Paper Hearts

NOW

“I WAS A FUCKING STRIPPER!”

That shuts him up. The picture falls to the floor; his mouth gapes open.

“You – you did what?”

Hot tears of anger spill over my eyelids, “I worked two jobs to give him everything that all of his little friends had – they already picked on him for not having a Dad, and I was not going to let him lose out because of me. So yeah, I became a stripper” I took a few steps closer to him, glaring up into his face, chin jutting, “I stripped off my clothes and danced for men I’d never met – and yeah, if money was short that week and George needed new school shoes or money for a trip, I let them touch me. I let those fucking perverts put their hands on me to support my son. So don’t you dare turn this round and put it all on me. Because I did the best I could for that boy and I will not let you turn me into a villain”

He is quiet for a long time.

“His name is George?”

“Yes”

“Like my Dad”

“Yes”

He sits down again, buries his head in his hands. I pick up the photo and smooth out the creases, then sit down beside him, laying the photo on my knee.

“Were you really a stripper?”

“You think I’m lying?”

“No! No, I...are you still?” he looks at me then, and the anger in his eyes has been replaced with a hurt that I don’t understand.

“No. Not anymore” a tear trickles off of the tip of my nose and lands on the photo.

“Did – did any of them ever – “

“No. They used to touch us though. They thought because they paid, they could do whatever they like – even though the manager promised us it wasn’t allowed” I gather the courage to look him in the eye, “I used to wait for them to try stuff like that, though. I was always scared that it...that it could happen”

He buries his head in his hands again and groans, “Oh God, Ede”

When he looks up again several minutes later, I am surprised to see a wetness in his eyes, “I still screwed you up just the same as if I’d stayed, didn’t I?”

“What do you mean?” I frown, alarmed.

“I ended it so you could move on with your life and do all those great things you dreamed of – study and go to uni and travel and – and write a novel – “he gulped back tears of his own, “And I still screwed you over because I left you with no way out. I left you with a responsibility you would never have unburdened yourself with”

And he starts to cry.

I wrap my arms around him and he holds on to me, desperate as a drowning man, and sobs on my breast. It makes me cry too, hot and angry and regretful tears that dampen his dark hair.

He gets up eventually and disappears for a while, returning with two steaming mugs of coffee. He sits back beside me. We blow on the drinks in unison and smile warily at each other.

“He was never a burden” I say at last, “It may not have been to plan, but I would never have it any other way”

“Did you finish your A-levels, at least?”

“Yeah, I did. I hated being away from him though” I smiled at the photo, “You could never have given me anything better than him. He saved me”

“Is he – “ he hesitates, “Does he – know about me?”

“He knows everything about you. I told him every little tiny thing I could think of. I took him to visit your parents’ graves when he was really small, but obviously he doesn’t remember that. He knows that they’re not around though”