Many Miles Apart

49. Zoe

Alfie gave me one last, desperate look, before he turned away and walked off into the night, swallowed instantly by the darkness and the rain, disappearing from sight.
It had all happened so quickly, one minute I'd forgiven him, I'd told him that we'd be ok in the end, and the next he was accusing me and then he was gone. Just like that.
It was so sudden I hadn't even had time to feel anything at all. I was almost in shock. I just stood there, my hair plastered to my face, stuck in my eyes so that I could barely see, staring, dumbfounded into the distance.
The lights on the pier glistened in the rain, the only thing I could see in this endless swirl of water. I was so mixed up, like I didn't know what to feel. It was such a strange concept, like I was floating in water, my head in the clouds, unable to think at all.
But slowly the nothingness started to fade, and emotion began to seep into me. I began to feel how I should in this situation. Instead of being in the clouds, I felt like I was falling. Instead of floating, I began to drown.
Guilt flooded my system, raining down from the sky above me and pelting me with its sharp pain. I started to hurt, like my insides were being twisted in someone's fist.
And I suddenly felt how Alfie must have been after everything. Because before I had felt betrayed, but our relationship was in my hands, now I was the reason we were stuck like this again, and I didn't know how to fix it. Not this time.
I turned and started to head back to my car, each step jolting at my insides. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't bring myself to. My heart ached, and I just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. I couldn't face this anymore. Because we were over. I couldn't trust him and he couldn't have faith in me. He'd made it clear that we had no chance anymore. Alfie and I were officially through, and I couldn't do anything about it.
Then I was next to the car. The rain had begun to ease, unlike the stabbing pain in my chest. I clambered in, not looking at the house ahead where Alfie was more than likely in right now, oblivious to the fact that his ex girlfriend was right outside.
As I drove away, I couldn't help but see how ironic this whole situation was. He'd messed up, I finally forgave him, then I messed up and we were back at square one.
The strange thing was that I didn't feel the same, crippling pain that I'd felt before. I didn't want to break down and cry. Instead it felt like someone was throwing knives at my chest, over and over, and I was so worried about what was going to happen now. No tears threatened to spill down my cheeks. No sickness rose in my stomach. Instead I was really frustrated about how much pain we were going through. I just wanted things to back to normal, but I knew they never would, because one of us would mess up, and it would be ruined again. Just like it was now.
Without realising it, I was suddenly back at the house. I got in and got ready to go to bed in a kind of trance. I was overwhelmed with a wave of tiredness, and all I wanted was to go to sleep, where my problems were gone, even if, when I woke, they'd come flooding back.
I climbed under the sheets, pulling them tight around me. Cocooning myself further under the duvet almost felt like a hiding place, but sleep wouldn't come and relieve me of my troubles. Instead I was left alone in a bed that felt so cold, and so empty.

The next morning came, and then went, and it was midday, and then the sun began to set and it was night again. I couldn't remember where the day had gone, or what I'd done with it, but it was over like that and I was back in my bed, alone again. I felt no sadness anymore, no desperate ache. Just a sharp, endless pain, that was hard and cold and numb. It was as if someone had ripped out my heart and thrown it away, leaving me with a huge gaping hole in my chest.

Five days later and nothing had changed. I was still in this weird, cold, numb state, and however hard I tried to move on with my life, I couldn't. Everything that I did was a chore. I had to make myself eat, not because I was hungry but because I knew I needed the food. Instead of feeling dirty, I had to force myself to wash, instead of feeling tired, I had to make myself sleep. It was like my body had forgotten how to function, and I was having to take over and make it work.
People tried to talk to me, tried to get me to go back to my usual self but I couldn't. It wasn't working. It was like a part of me was missing. I was a shell of my former self, destined to be left like this, empty and alone.

It was around 10am, and I'd just finished forcing myself to eat breakfast when the doorbell rang. It sounded through the quiet house, echoing off the walls. I just assumed that it was the postman or another one of my friends trying to persuade me to come out and do something.
I trudged over to the door and pulled open the handle with a sigh.
Joe was standing on the other side. He had a smile on his face and a bunch of flowers in one hand.
"Joe, wha-"
"Shh", he said, gesturing like he was zipping his mouth shut. "I thought I'd pay you a visit. Didn't need to check whether you were in, of course you were. I'm here to take you out so you'll stop moping and accept that this how things are going to be." He put it in a way that almost made me ashamed of doing nothing. He never had been good at emotions. "Oh and these are for you, he said, handing me the flowers. I took them, really confused about what on earth was going on. Clearly he sensed that by the look on my face, as he added, "they were Caspar and Ollie's idea. People like flowers." He looked over my shoulder, and I saw him taking in the bunches dotted all around the hallway and on the kitchen. table. In my defence they were mainly from other friends, but I guess he was right about me liking flowers. I'd give him that one.
"Thanks", I murmured, suddenly overwhelmed with an odd sort of happiness at seeing my brother try to cheer me up, but it didn't stop me from wishing I could be left alone with my pain.
"Shall I come in then?", he said, signalling at me to let him through.
Begrudgingly, I moved aside so he could enter.
I shut the door and turner round to find that he'd already disappeared into the house.
"Joe?", I moaned. "Where are you?" I felt so rude and out of character but I didn't care. I couldn't care.
"Jesus Zoe, I knew Alfie was always the tidy one, but this is a new level of messy", he said as I entered the room. I couldn't help but feel another pang at his name.
I looked around. Bowls and plates covered the surfaces, and books and to remotes littered the coffee table. There were cushions all over the floor and the rug was wonky. Jumpers and blankets sat in heaps on the sofa and the sink was overflowing with dirty crockery. There were random items everywhere, and the room looked like a bomb had gone off. A bomb that was my heart.
"Yeah.", I said, not up to defending myself.
"You're not you. Are you going to be ok?", he asked, suddenly serious, his eyes focused straight at me.
After a pause, and a long moment of not knowing what to say, I told him the truth. "No."
"Do you want to talk about it?", he said. I could tell he was feeling awkward at the emotion, and the fact that he'd actually asked whether I wanted to share my feeling showed how worried he actually was about me.
"It's fine", I replied, suddenly busying myself clearing up a pile of plates.
"Ok", he said, and then the moment was gone. "Right Zoe, we're going out. Go get dressed, I'll meet you down here in ten minutes."
"No Joe", I said bluntly.
"Yes Zoe. Come on. This is the first day of the rest of your life and your ruining it my moping around"
"Technically so is tomorrow. And the day after", I put, being pedantic.
"Whatever, just go and get changed, unless you want to go out in that?", he questioned. I looked down at the stained leggings and oversized sweater I was wearing.
I didn't feel like arguing, so, with a sigh, I tramped up the stairs and changed, brushing my hair through and adding a tiny bit of makeup to my naked face.
"See! Better already", Joe said over enthusiastically when I came back downstairs. The kitchen already looked better, the dishes already in the machine and the table half clear. Joe was not tidy person, so this was a phenomenon. I just pulled a face.
"Right lets go", he said, heading for the door.
"Where?", I asked, rooted the the spot.
"Just out. Let's get some food or something", he replied, already opening the door.
I sighed dramatically again, before following him out.