All I hide

Chapter 17

It's a late evening in early February, the sky outside darkening and the city quieter now that most people are home from a busy working day. I'm reading the storybook John and I wrote, nostalgia and amusement hitting me with each page I turn.

"Hey, this chapter features you," I say to Catherine and move to her bed so we can read it together.

"Why am I dressed as a ballet dancing toucan? I've never liked ballet."

"Because we were forced to go to ballet lessons, remember? But I don't know where the toucan costume comes from."

"Did John write this chapter?" she snickers, "I keep being referred to as 'her cousin' and the narrator seems slightly jealous."

"I think so. He didn't like you at first because you kept stealing my attention."

"Huh so the toucan outfit was him being petty."

"Maybe."

The door to our room opens and Alex walks in, heading straight towards me. Without a word he grabs my wrist and takes me to his and Jacob's room. Then nothing. He just stands silently in the middle of the room while I lean against the bunkbed, watching him and waiting to see what he wants. The seconds drag by and I don't realise I'm holding my breath until he looks at me, his eyes unreadable but not coldly indifferent.

"You're scared," he observes.

Why wouldn't I be? But I don't know if its fear of him or for him or a bit of both. I can feel my heart racing but the lingering hurt is there too. How should I reply? I don't trust my voice to come out properly.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

Say what? You didn't believe me when I tried to explain and didn't want to know every time after that. Even though I don't blame you and understand where you're coming from, I don't know if anything I potentially say would make it better.

"Sam." His voice is softer this time and he takes a step towards me. "Please talk to me."

I was waiting for him to approach me first but now that it's happening, I have no idea what to do. No matter how prepared I think I am, the universe likes to tell me otherwise by throwing things on me when I least expect it. Maybe that's the point. One can never be fully prepared for anything but the outcome lies in whether we go for it regardless or run away.

"I'm sorry. I said so many terrible things but I meant none of it." He looks away from me for a second and when his eyes return to me, whatever veil had been hiding his emotions is gone. I see it all. Hurt. Sadness. Regret. Longing. Fear. It's all there in front of me and I'm certain he can see the same in me. "When you went out that day, I'd convinced myself that you'd left me and that it was all my fault."

"I can't leave you," I say quietly. This is one thing I know for certain, even if I'm unsure about everything else. "You're still my favourite person."

"Even though I hurt you this much?"

"I hurt you too."

"But what I did was worse."

"Doesn't matter." This time I look away, no longer able to bear the intensity in his expression.

"Do you forgive me?" The uncertainty in his tone breaks me, as if he feels he's not allowed to ask.

"Yeah." I can't bring myself to face him though, my thoughts reminding me of what he said and the way he looked at me. That night I became so desperate I was looking for pills. Forgiveness is one thing. Healing from the damage is another. It still haunts me from time to time. I've become conscious of not accidentally angering him and I don't go near the medicine cupboard, the fear from seeing Mum's body doubled when I realise I could've ended up the same...even if I keep telling myself I only would've taken one.

"Sam, what is it? Why do you seem so scared?" Alex closes the gap between us and reaches for me but I step back, the ladder of the bunkbed digging into me. "Sam," he swallows, his eyes becoming glassy. "Sam it's me. Alex. Your Alex. Your favourite person."

But all my memories of you from the past month are of you avoiding me even though I tried to reach out many times before giving up. Had I not had anyone else, I really don't think I could've managed. I might've considered leaving even if it would've killed me to do so. And yes it was my fault that you snapped and said things you didn't mean but it hurt. It hurt so much.

He tries reaching for me again since I can't back away any further. "I came back to you. I'm sorry for making you wait all this time." His soft touch along with his gentle words are like silk being brushed against my soul. "Things were slowly getting better for you." He steps closer and wraps his arms around my waist tightly like he's trying to put all my broken pieces back together. "I hate that I ruined that and made it worse but I'm so glad to see how much happier you've been recently."

I want to believe him. I so desperately want to believe him and for things to be okay again. His pounding heart and uneven breaths tell me he wants the same.

"Are we okay?" he mumbles into my shoulder.

"...we're okay."

My delayed response doesn't go unnoticed. "Then why won't you hug me back? Why weren't you looking at me? It feels like you're not really here."

I don't know. I thought this would be easier, that we'd just talk it out and things would go back to normal, but it's not. There's too many thoughts and too many feelings, all blaring discordantly in an inharmonious mess. I don't know what I'm meant to do.

"Sam please." He pulls back a little to look at me, his tear-filled eyes searching for something familiar, something that will tell him we'll get through this like we've gotten through everything else. "If this has taught me anything, it's that I'm an idiot and I really need you. I need my big sister."

Slowly, with shaking hands, I pull him back to me and hold him as he starts crying.

"I'm so sorry," he apologises again and again, sobbing so heavily I can feel him trembling in my arms. "I'm here now and I'll be with you always."