Oblivious Hearts (Phan)

Chapter Twenty Five

Word count: 2030

               

"Those who have courage to love should have courage to suffer."

- Anthony Trollope

Phil fell to the floor, the gravel digging into his knees as he watched Dan drive away, his lights growing dimmer until they were gone.

Dan was gone.

Phil sat in the road, staring straight ahead, hoping Dan would come around the corner and scoop him into his arms again.

But he didn't.

Phil waited in the cold, the evening sky pressing down on him, biting at his exposed skin.

He waited and waited but Dan didn't come back.

Finally Phil dragged himself up and trudged into Tommy's house.

It was all Tommy's fault...

He found Tommy in the living room and walked up to him.

One good swing and I could break his nose. I could feel the bone snap under my fingers, see the blood pour from the wound and he would feel pain like me... He deserved it.

"Tommy," Phil said quietly.

"Oh Phil, I thought you'd gone home with Dan." Tommy said, smiling.

Dan... Just hearing the name stung Phil. It was as though barbed wire was being ripped through his heart.

No. It was all my fault. Dan would have found out eventually, I even wanted to tell him.

"Yeah, we're just about to go actually. I just wanted to say goodbye and thank you for a lovely afternoon." Phil said, painting a fake smile on his crumbling face. Tommy was too drunk to notice the lie. But perhaps it was just because Phil had years of lying and covering up.

"I hope I didn't cause an argument between the two of you?" Tommy said nervously.

"Oh no, not at all. He did know about them." I think I'm going to throw up. "It was a simple miscommunication." Phil said, lying through his tightly clenched teeth. He had to get out of there quickly or he would break into a million pieces on the beige carpeted floor.

"Thank God, okay. Well it was nice to see you and to meet Dan." Tommy said.

Shut up Tommy. I have to get out of here.

Phil felt panic begin to build up inside him. He smiled one last time and then pushed his way out of the house, hoping Tommy was too drunk to notice anything abnormal.

Finally stepping out into the cold evening air Phil rushed down the driveway and threw up all over the delicate pink flowers at the end of Tommy's front garden. The acidic mixture burnt Phil's throat as it ripped it's way up. His nose began to run and his eyes prickled with fresh tears. He dragged himself up from the hunched over position he found himself in and ran to the end of the road, his eyes were fuzzy with panic and the stars above seemed to be falling from the sky and landing in the puddles the days rain had left.

He stopped.

Phil took a deep breath, wiped away his tears and composed his face, the bitter bile still swirling in his mouth, making his cheeks sting. He swallowed and wiped his nose with his shirt sleeve.

He walked to the bus stop where he waited.

He felt nothing; not the movements of the bus, not the screeches of the babies throbbing in his ears, not the cold as it whipped his face when he finally stepped off the bus.