Waiting For Ships

20 - Joe

I didn't intend to let myself go with Billie. I knew the clock was ticking. Knew deep down what my parents' early return meant, even if I wasn't ready to admit it. Instead of holding back, I filled every hour I could with her. She came to The Chapel – now the official name of my house- while Gracie was out and we passed the days together, going for walks, swimming in the pool, watching movies in the evening. We talked until we were exhausted, never seeming to run out of stories to tell or things to discuss. We listened to music and talked about the bands, getting brave enough to sing along once we'd had a few ciders or beers (courtesy of Gracie stocking up the house). Only when our throats were hoarse and our eyes were tired would we go to bed, exploring physically what we could no longer express with words.

And still, I felt there was more to know. Instead of learning everything about her, she became more of a mystery the more she shared. Like a never-ending web, the pattern growing more intricate the more detail she let me see.

I let myself get used to her. The initial awkwardness faded and with it the fear that something would go wrong. That something would trip us up. Reveal what we'd found was just an illusion. Once that was gone, I started to see her as a certainty. She would always be here. .Whenever I rolled over in the night, her body would be next to mine. Whenever I picked up the phone, her voice would be at the other end. The sound of her bike wheels on the dirt track outside would always accompany mine. There'd never be a silent breakfast again. The sound of her singing in the shower would start every morning. I didn't realise I believe all these things until it was too late. I had let my guard down. Convinced myself the pain would be worth it. It's easy to do that when you forget how the pain feels. In the same way we forget the stinging bite of cold in the summer, it's impossible to remember heartbreak in the height of happiness.

For me, heartbreak came in the form of two people I loved. Two people I'd have given anything to bring home early before Billie. Before her, the message I knew they were bringing would have meant joy. Healing. The thing I'd wished for since I was a little boy. But 'before her' was gone. I could never be that person again. And suddenly joy was terror. Wishes were nightmares. Excitement was fear.

The day they returned was a normal day. The sun shone in its usual way. I woke up next to Billie, pressed myself against her, and listened to her sigh. For the first few seconds of consciousness, everything was right. The birds sang. Our legs intertwined. Gracie's footsteps sounded from somewhere inside the house, reassuring me she was safe. I held onto the contentment as long as I could, but it slipped away with sleep, making room for a heaviness in my gut that didn't make sense until I snapped my eyes opened and remembered the date.

I dropped Billie from my arms and got up, dressing as if I had somewhere to be. I kept my back to her, sensing her eyes on me as I pulled my t-shirt over my head. I knew she could tell something was wrong. It was in the air, something shifting, as if summer had come to a sudden end, the cold snap of autumn turning up unannounced and far too early.

"Breakfast?" I said. I tried to sound normal but my voice stuck in my throat, making me sound strangled.

"Are you okay?"

Her voice was so light-hearted. Amused and oblivious. She thought I'd make a joke and go back to normal. She thought there was nothing to worry about. That my being weird had a simple explanation.

I still couldn't look at her. I couldn't pretend she was right. It would only make it worse later. She'd never forgive me for giving her false hope. I'd hurt myself too if I started to believe it.

"I'm fine," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling on some socks. "My parents are coming back today. I just... it might be good if you go soon."