A Change of Heart

Chapter 7 - Hidden in The Wardrobe

We had no idea what to do.

It was Saturday, the day after we were seen, and we were sat in Ryan's bedroom. We weren't canoodling or anything of the likes. We just sat. Ryan's usual light-hearted charm was absent, replaced by anxiety and grief. The silence was deafening.

There was nothing to say. We'd been spotted, and the way forward was riddled with misfortune - whichever path we chose. One thing was for sure, my friendship with Amy was obliterated. We'd known each other for eleven years: most of each of our lives. And since the day we met, we'd been two peas in a pod. Now that pod had been ripped open and the peas had tumbled out. At least Amy knew the truth - the only thing she deserved that she received.

I closed my eyes and found Ryan's hand. He gave mine a squeeze. There was nothing I could do to save the situation, but sitting around all day would be a pointless, and altogether painful ordeal. I got up, bringing Ryan with me, and together we went downstairs. We sat at the kitchen table, and I let Ryan make me a coffee. While he made it, I examined the paintings hanging on the wall.

They were grey and bland, so much so that it offended my eyes to look at them. They matched the walls, which were a similar colour. In fact, they matched pretty much everything in the room. All furnishings were immaculately placed and there was not a speck of dust to be seen. I hadn't seen all of the house, but the majority that I had seen was similar in appearance. Nothing frivolous or tacky, everything was neat. Whoever designed this house certainly didn't care to add much decoration. The paintings were the only inessential furnishing I had seen so far, and I can tell you for nothing, they were far from attractive.

Ryan returned with my coffee and we sat together, sipping in pensive silence. Ryan looked pale, and there were heavy, purple bags under his eyes. Looks like I wasn't the only one who couldn't get to sleep last night.

While we were drinking, the door rattled open and in came a woman in her forties. She was tall and surly. Her hair was tightly collected in a small, perfect bun. How she managed to put her hair up like that without wispy bits escaping, I had no idea. Deep wrinkles lined her face, making her appear much older than her age. They made her features appear to be stuck in a permanent grimace, the corners of her mouth twisted downwards.

She wore the type of attire expected of a female president. A below the knee pencil skirt and a hideous brown blouse. I could tell without looking that her clothing was not blemished by creases or stains. This was the sort of woman who required perfection. The only feature I didn't find unappealing were her eyes. They eyes were an intense green, like Ryan's, so though the idea seemed ridiculous, I resolved that she must be his mother.

"Well, hello there" she greeted, her voice thick with suspicion.

"Hi, mother, this is Hannah." Said Ryan.

"Who is... 'Hannah'?" She virtually spat my name, and I didn't respect the way she spoke as if I wasn't there.

None of us replied. Me and Ryan looked at each other.

"You should speak when you are spoke to" she scolded. "I am Magdalena. Seeing as you are here you can come and help me with the shopping."

Obliging, Ryan and I drank the last remnants of our coffees and followed Ryan's mother outside. The boot of her car was open, revealing about ten plastic bags stuffed with groceries. I picked up two of them and returned to the kitchen, noting as I did so that the one of the bags consisted entirely of packets of herbal tea. Cocking my head, I raised an eyebrow at Ryan. He nodded briefly towards his mother, indicating they were hers.

Once all the shopping had been collected, Magdalena dismissed us. We were returning to Ryan's room when his phone suddenly buzzed with a message. He stopped to read it and I waited patiently, picking at some of the paintwork on the bannister in the hope that it would annoy Ryan's mum. When I returned my attention to him, I saw his face had fallen. Intrigued, I tried to peer over his shoulder to read its content, but he was too tall.

"It's Amy" Ryan explained, picking up on my intention "she's outside."

We hurried up the stairs to his room. Her seeing me here would only make matters worse. I had one foot inside his wardrobe when we heard the door opening downstairs. I quickly rammed myself in the tight space, knocking hangers off the rail in my haste. Ryan had just closed the closet when the door to his room slammed open. I could vaguely see Amy saunter in, her eyes alight with mischief. She perched on his bed without being invited to do so.

Ryan stood with his back to the wardrobe. He was so conspicuous I almost reached out a hand and pushed him forwards. Thankfully, he moved a little to the left, allowing me a clear view through the slight gap in the doors. Amy looked at him menacingly, but behind her eyes I could see the hurt penetrating her heart. Her attitude was nothing but a pretence. She gestured for him to come closer, and he hesitantly complied.

She got up and paced towards him, her thumbs hooked in her pockets.

"Why?" It was a simple question. Just one word. As for the answer, there weren't enough words to say it. And there wasn't enough time in the day. So Ryan just stood there, tense.

"Answer me!" She cried. Ryan swallowed as though he was talking to a headmaster.

"I love her" was his simple reply.

"You love me" she argued, sounding kind of desperate.

"No, I-I...."

At this, Amy's shoulders slumped. Her confidence washed away.

"But I love you" she whispered, in a voice witness to her previously hidden emotions.

A silence followed, and I struggled to keep my breathing unheard. Amy appeared to be biting her lip, a habit I had seen from her so many times before.

"You l-l-loved me, though, d-didn't you?" She stammered.

Ryan nodded faintly.

She fell silent for a long moment, thinking. "Hannah stole you. We were happy. How could she take advantage of me like that? I gave her help and she gave me shit." Amy's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and she started pacing the floor. "I wish... I wish I'd never even tried. Its not your fault. I know you loved me. It's all on Hannah, she was the siren that used me and forced you to love her. She's a liar, she doesn't deserve you. She needs a wake up call."

"Amy-" Ryan started.

"Shut up, Ryan! I'm not yours anymore, remember? I can do what I want. Tell Hannah she's a bitch from me, okay?" She fumed and stormed out.

Once she had gone, I let my emotions get the better of me. Amy had pretty much summarised everything I had feared she would say.

I opened the doors, looked Ryan in the eyes.

And broke down.