Fix You ~Completed~

Act Eighty-Two

Day seven.

Eddie came home late from work. He had been working more the last three days and I would be lying if I said it didn't upset me. I knew he took extra hours to avoid me. Even if we weren't in the same circle, I wanted him home where I could at least see, hear, or even smell him. (His cologne was so strong. I had never realized that before.)

Dressed in a plain green polo and tan khakis, he looked like a picture perfect retail sporting goods salesmen. He also looked tired and as though he hated life, but that was okay because I was gonna make it better. For once, I was going to be the one putting someone's pieces back together.

"Hi!" I squeaked, freezing in front of the kitchen table. A candle wiggled inside its glass holder, causing me to wince because it came so close to blinking out. I thought it did, at least, but maybe I was just a little paranoid.

Eddie blinked at me in surprise, scoping out the room. "Holy," he stammered, taking inventory. "Candles, dim lighting, food... What's going on, Clem? This looks suspiciously romantic."

I could have cried. His banter was so normal, so loving. It was as if I hadn't chilled him out for seven days. "Well," I began, reaching across the table to show off the spaghetti I had cooked up, "since we live together, I knew it would be im-pasta-ble for us not to be on speaking terms."

"Damn it, you're cute." The sob in his voice made my own eyes water a bit. Hesitantly, he rounded the table, laying his hands on my shoulders. That touch was what I needed. "Is this your a-adorable way of forgiving me?"

"Uh-huh," I nodded.

"You really forgive me?" he whispered in disbelief.

"I forgave you two days ago, actually."

"What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I-I didn't know how to... how to make up or anything. I wasn't sure," I sighed, "about anything really."

When Kyla and I fought, there typically was only two real ways we made up: we'd ignore the issue or have sex. I hated both of those and I knew it wouldn't work with Eddie. I didn't want those to work with Eddie.

As he said, our relationship was going to be different than my one with Kyla. We loved each other in a semi-healthy way, therefore we could work out our problems like civil humans.

"Baby," Eddie breathed out, taking my face and kissing me like his life depended on it. I clutched my Ed, bringing him to me. "Don't do that again, okay? I honestly am sure I couldn't last that long without you a second time."

"You won't have to," I promised, peppering his pale face in about a hundred kisses. My mind had forced out the thoughts of Kyla, of his death, of Eddie's part in it. It wasn't as though Ed would have killed Kyla if he'd been given another choice, like he said. I gave him no other choice.

"I refuse to," he chuckled sadly. I wiped some of his tears sweetly and gestured for him to sit down. When he did so, he tugged me along with him and I curled up comfortably in his lap. "How are you? It's been so long since we've really talked."

My answer was vague, but as honest as I could be: "Better."

He traced an old scar on my cheek. To be honest, I couldn't even recall how Kyla applied that one to me. It had been there for so long, its existence was just accepted. "That's good, baby," he nodded, pressing our foreheads together. "I didn't wanna hurt you. What I did was in your best interest. It was all I could do to keep you safe."

I'd come to realize that. "I know," I assured him gently, caressing his chin. We locked eyes and he sighed deeply. "My head wasn't in the right place. Kyla had me locked pretty tight under him and I never would have been able to move without you. I get that the situation was insane so, of course, you had to take some insane measures to protect me. You did it out of love."

"Exactly."

"I-I had a lot of time to think about it and... and I get that Kyla never loved me. It never completely sank in before. This whole time, it's just been this big freaking war inside of me with my heart trying to convince my brain that Kyla loved me but just struggled with that emotion, while my brain was thinking logically and knew Kyla just liked that I was easy. I let him do whatever he wanted and all I asked for was attention. It was sick. What he and I had was a sick mess and I-I love you for helping me see that."

The time we spent together was comfortable. We sat at the table, me in his grasp, and we ate the spaghetti. Eddie kept brushing his thumb under my eye, cooing that I needed more sleep, and then he offered to me pick me up some sleeping pills later. "I don't like pills," I admitted to him, twisting a huge wad of pasta around the tongs of my fork. Kyla took so many pills. I didn't want to be like Kyla. I never wanted to be like Kyla.

"There's liquid sleep medication if you'd prefer that. It will help you, baby." His hand was so warm and it fit perfectly against my cheek.

"I think," I hummed, nuzzling my Eddie, "just getting to sleep with you again will help me."

"Oh, definitely," he agreed with a shy grin. We shared a quick kiss and then went back to our dinner, grinning like absolute fools.

It was easier to forgive Eddie and go back to being happy- ignorant- than it was to pretend to be angry any longer. My upset over his admittance lasted only those first few days, then it disappeared into thin air. I think that anger was less towards Eddie and more towards myself for having practically caused the death. Ed was being a good friend and trying to take care of me. It was in a twisted way, yeah, but I knew his intentions were pure.

He did it because he loved me. Kyla died because I met Eddie and Gale that night in the café and kept coming back to them. I let someone care about me, I let them love me. I was honest and it landed him six feet underground... and I didn't even care anymore.

That fucking bastard deserved exactly what he got.

And I'd like to think I deserved what I got. I deserved to be laying on the couch with a person that loves me, not my need, and I deserved not to be beaten into submission or tricked into mistaking forced sex for love. I deserved to feel happy. I deserved to feel safe.

I lied earlier. Kyla didn't die because of me. Kyla died because of Kyla.

He was the one who kissed me, which lead to that whole ugly affair.

He was the one that set-up our living arrangement at Sawyer.

He was the one that beat the shit out of me.

He was the one that never loved me and made that blatantly obvious.

He was the one that pissed Eddie off.

He died because of his own nasty choices, not because of me. If Kyla had just been a good friend, or even boyfriend, then he'd still be here. Maybe we'd be content together as friends or boyfriends or whatever. That prick could have saved himself, but no. He decided, instead, to try and destroy me.

It was over. All of that was over.

I had Eddie and I was happy.

Eddie loved me. Eddie wouldn't hit me if his life depended on it. I would never have to truly be scared of Eddie, even if he did kill a man. It was in defense of me. My Eddie did it because I would have died if he hadn't.

It was Kyla or me, just as I'd said. I was still relieved it wasn't me.