The Things You Did For Me

Chapter 7: IF I MOVE ON

She was still asleep when Alex woke up. He smiled at the sight of her. She was as peaceful as she ever could be. She was safe. He wished it was always this way. But he knew it never would be. Soon enough she'd wake up and everything would fall apart again. They could never catch a break. She was just as trapped as he was...maybe even more so. He stood up from the bed, searching the floor for the shirt he had discarded in the night. He found it lying against the closet door, cold from the night. He slipped it on and quietly made his way to the window, glancing back at her before sliding it open and climbing out.

The sun shined down on him, piercing his eyes. He squinted, rubbing his temples. He regretted finishing off that bottle of whiskey. He regretted everything. He was slowly becoming a bigger mess than he ever was. He was helpless. His heart began to pound as he neared his house, but he entered anyway, stopping dead before his father. They stared silently at each other for a while. He could feel his limbs become numb with fear.

His father was the first to move, sipping his cup of coffee. He wasn't going to apologize—he wasn't that kind of guy. But the pain and anger had left him, and all that was left was grief. He glanced down at his son's bloody shirt, a look of confusion grazing his face. "What happened?"

Alex's eyes fell to his shirt. He felt somewhat safer today. He wasn't at all surprised that his father didn't remember what had happened—he was drunker than he'd ever seen him. But Alex didn't feel like fighting anymore. He didn't have it in him. "It's nothing." It was best not to bring it up. Their relationship was already ruined as it was. He turned and made his way down the hall to his bedroom, hoping that that was as far as their conversation would go.

"The funeral's Friday," his father called after him.

Alex knew it was coming. He could feel the sense of unease the second he walked through the door. He stopped in the doorway of his room, glancing over his shoulder at the man. "Okay." There was nothing else he could say. He'd lost the only person who'd ever really cared about him. He could feel his insides tighten. Grief. It would never leave him. He sighed and shut the door behind him. It was best to ignore everything from now on. He didn't ever want to feel this way again. Nothing was worth this pain...not even her.

He found her waiting for him as he walked out to his car. "Hey," he muttered. Norma smiled back at him, climbing into the car. He couldn't stand to lose her, so he'd have to forget her. He climbed in and started the engine, pulling into the street.

He could feel himself distancing from her. The one person he desired comfort from hadn't offered it. He wasn't sure what he wanted from her. And what he thought he wanted scared him half to death. They were halfway there before she finally said a word. She stuttered softly, unsure of whether to say something or not but she had already committed to it. "I'm sorry."

He glanced at her then back at the road ahead. "Sorry for what?"

She sighed, turning her gaze out the window. "Alex." She knew how he was. She knew she'd never get him to open up, especially when it came to his mother.

"I'm fine," he lied. He could feel the tension set in. He was building up a wall between them, and she'd never be able to tear it down. They sat in silence for the rest of the ride. He could feel himself losing her, but he had stopped fighting for her a long time ago. He pulled into a parking space and parked, shutting the engine off. He sighed a bit, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "The funeral's Friday."

She turned to face him, nodding softly. "Okay." She wanted to help him, but she didn't know how. She was afraid of hurting him...she was afraid of losing him. But deep down she already knew she had. She thought about reaching for his hand, but stopped herself.