the unforgiven | james hetfield [2]

fourteen

chapter fourteen: walking on eggshells

Their argument had only set them back. Everything they worked towards went down the drain once they had that minor disagreement.

That was all it took. It was something so minor, who knew what else was going to make them go through this over and over again?

They remained distant after that day, refusing to say a word to each other. All of those days they had spent together in her living room talking were long gone.

The very few days they had spent together in peace were slightly comforting. Even though there was always some tension in the air, it disappeared whenever Iris let her guard down.

When Iris got ready for work, she didn't even bat an eye at James. She was the first to leave and he was usually in the apartment while she was getting ready. He wouldn't say much either.

They were walking on eggshells around each other, not wanting to say the wrong thing. Of course, they wanted to try and work things out, but it was hard when neither of them wanted to make the first move.

Things shouldn't have become this difficult. They had known each other for years, couldn't they get over this one little setback and move on with their lives?

James was finding ways to distract himself at least. He figured that after arguing about moving back in, the last thing Iris wanted to see was his presence so often.

He left for days at a time, and Iris would sometimes worry about where he was. She knew he had the privilege of having another place to stay, but that didn't mean he was completely fine.

Going to the studio was a good distraction. After all, the band had been working on Garage, Inc. for some time now and was in the final stages of putting it out before taking a break. 

What was not a good distraction was when he went home. Not home to Iris's apartment, back home to his own place that he was in the process of moving out of.

All that was left in his soon-to-be old home was a couple of boxes and a couple of bottles. It was empty, cold, and missing the comfort of Iris's presence.

There was only one thing that could cure his longing for her: the bottle calling his name on the counter. He didn't want to take it, but it was something to distract him from the long night ahead.

Iris worried about where he could be and what he was doing. She was always going to worry and care about James even during their worst moments, and this was one of those times.

After he had admitted to her about his problem and she promised to help him, she couldn't leave him on his own when he would be at his most vulnerable.

However, she only worried at night. During the day, she had her job to distract her from the constant worry and hurt she felt from their disagreement. 

But once she came home and she was free from the stress of work, her stress would only be redirected to what was going on with James. He didn't want that for her. 

She had no one else to blame but herself. Was it really that necessary to get mad at him over something as minor as moving back into the apartment?

She thought about why he would feel the need to come back in the first place. Maybe he needed to be close to her again, as if she would be his saving grace during such a difficult time. 

So his attempt to move back in was a pleading cry for help, and Iris simply kicked him to the curb instead of hearing him out. And now she felt bad that she kept her defenses up in the first place.

But for the days that James did happen to stay over at the apartment, every day was the same. She would come home from work, eat, and stay in her bedroom for the rest of the night.

The times when James did stay over, he usually had the living room to himself. Iris always kept the door closed in her bedroom, and he knew she did that for a reason. She didn't want to be bothered.

He never wanted it to get to a point where they had to sleep in different beds. Once that happened, it was most likely getting to a point of no return. 

Some days, James could hear Iris crying in the other room, his heart aching at the sound of her sobs. Some nights she sounded like she was in pain more than other nights.

Iris tried her best to keep it down, and considering James never said anything the next day, she thought she was being quiet enough. But he knew.

What he would give to go in there and tell her that everything was fine and not her fault. He knew whatever she was crying about had to do with them.

He wished he could get up from the bed and hold her close to him all night, reassuring her that everything was okay and they would get through this together.

But he didn't budge and stayed awake the whole time, listening to her cry before finally falling asleep.