Love/Fail

Chapter 18

Annoying Pinspiration Quote #18

"What happened to you was not your choice. Your recovery is."

The next week passed in a blur. Sometimes, I was perfectly fine, laughing with Rupert, working with Dad. Other times, everything would seem overwhelming and I'd find myself shaking and unable to speak.

One night, I woke up to Rupert shouting in pain. "Owie!"

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said, rubbing his arm.

"Rupert, I heard you yell. What happened?"

"It's just... You were a little... punchy."

"Punchy?"

His face tilted empathetically. "You were trying to fight me in your sleep, love."

"Oh... Crap."

I started crying, which seemed to be my go-to move for everything lately – the toilet roll being empty, slicing open an avocado only to find it brown all the way through. I couldn't tell you if I was upset for Rupert or myself. Maybe both.

"I'll sleep on the couch," I said, tears streaming.

"No, you won't." He wrapped me up in his arms. "I knew from the first day I met you that you were the second coming of Tyson. I can't bail now, can I? It's a shame you don't have his lisp – speech impediments make my balls tingle."

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to deal with this."

"Neither should you," he said simply. "But we're dealing nonetheless. Maybe we should give the psychologist a ring in the morn-"

"No." I shut him down, just as I'd been doing every time Dad, the doctors or Rupert recommended seeing someone.

"Love, it's not going to be Savannah," said Rupert. I'd filled him in on that situation briefly.

"Still no. It's not about her."

"Then what-"

"I'm tired. Let's get some sleep."

Work kept me moving. I was grateful for the café, for the busy days that occupied my mind and body from open to close. During a morning shift, I was clearing tables in the garden when Dad strolled over. "What's up, old man? Who's on the counter?"

"Gemma's got it covered." He extended my phone towards me. "This was ringing in the kitchen."

Cody's name showed on the screen, along with the five other missed calls from him since Sunday.

Even though I'd been avoiding my phone and my emails and social media of any kind, I'd seen the calls. Every time I saw Cody's name, my heart tore away from its moorings a little more. What the hell am I going to say to him? I'd declared my desperate love over the phone while he was in bed next to his girlfriend and I was trying to drink away his memory in an illegal rave. I might as well buy a bunny and put a saucepan on to boil.

I wished that part of the night had been erased by the drugs in my system, but the moment stayed clear and agonising in the movie of my mind. I love you. How could you not know...? I shuddered at even the thought of trying to explain that away. Avoidance would work for now. Surely, I'd earned a few days off having to deal with anything else.

Grunting at Dad, I said, "'Kay, thanks." I stuffed my phone in my back pocket and kept stacking plates.

"Are you going to speak to the man who saved your life?"