The Handcuff Effect

15

'Burg?' I heard late Thursday night. I was tempted to ignore Nathan, pretend I was asleep, but the fact that he was instigating a conversation, especially after having an awkward silence descend on us since Monday afternoon, made me curious. And terrified.

After a longer than acceptable pause, I answered. 'Hmm?' I grunted out, keeping my eyes shut tight. I didn't want to know what time it was. And I also didn't want to see his face when he asked whatever was clearly bothering him. Because if he was going to ask if my liking him was true, I might just crawl into a hole and die.

'Is something wrong?' He asked. 'You've been scarily silent the last few days. You're not...' He paused and cleared his throat awkwardly.

Oh.

Oh.

'No, no.' I replied quickly. 'No, I'm fine. Not that. Um.' How awkward. 'No, I was just worried about my mum.' I fibbed.

Nathan hesitated, but bought it. Sometimes being a smooth liar was really very helpful.

His voice sounded closer when he spoke next, so I assumed he'd come up onto his elbow or sat up entirely or something to speak. 'Call her.'

I shook my head, even if he couldn't see it. 'I think we just need some space.'

I heard Nathan sigh. 'Emma. Its been nearly a month. I think you have had enough space. If you're worried, call her. Its not going to kill you.'

Damn. This lie was certainly going to hell in a handbasket. Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, I decided Nathan was right and that I needed to check up on my mother.

Feeling blindly around my bedside table for my phone, I cringed into my pillow when the screen light clicked on and temporarily blinded me. '2am?' I screeched. 'Why weren't you sleeping, like a normal person?'

Nathan ignored me. 'Just call her.'

Dialing the number, I pressed the ringing phone to my ear. Mum answered on the third ring. 'Em?' She whispered softly.

I didn't know what to say. 'Hi.'

'Are you okay? What's wrong?' She asked, immediately making me feel like a terrible daughter for not calling for three weeks.

'Actually, I was calling to see how you were going.' I rubbed my eyes tiredly.

I heard her sniff a little. 'I'm better now.'

'Good.'

The silence was deafening. I didn't know what else to say to her. I was still mad that she wouldn't leave. After a few more torturous minutes, she spoke again. 'Well, it's late.'

'Yeah,' I replied lamely. 'I'll call you at a better time.'

The silence was heavy and awkward. I think we could have cut it with a butter-knife. 'Honey?' Mum whispered finally.

My gut pinched a little at the raw vulnerability I found there, in that one word. 'Yeah?'

'I love you.'

I felt a keening disappointment surge through me. She hadn't said our little rhyme. Our thing. That's when I felt loved. Not this shoddy 'I love you' business. Silently, I heaved in a shaky breath. 'Yeah. Love you too.'

I hung up before that conversation could get any worse than it already had.

Nathan watched me carefully. I could see the outline of his body, and his eyes shone in the darkness. I found myself latching onto those eyes like they were a lifeline.

He didn't say anything, but I really don't think he had to. That conversation held all the uneasiness of a conversation between exes on a reality show. I shifted on the bed uncomfortably. Before I knew it, Nathan had sprung up, shoved me over and was reclining against my pillows, pulling me close to him with his free arm.