The Wrong Best Friend

Chapter Sixteen: Take Me Home

CHAPTER 16: Take Me Home .

"I'd like to make myself believe that planet earth turns slowly
It's hard to say that I'd rather stay awake when I'm asleep
'Cause everything is never as it seems."
- Owl City.

There are certian conversations you wish to never have, no matter how close that person is or how badly you do want to talk about it. All you wish is hope you can put it all behind and never look back.

Never talk about it.

Just forget it ever happened.

But that's never the case.

I know sitting beside him eating his favourite chocolate pastry isn't going to make the conversation that is bound to happen disappear. No matter how undesirable it seems I know I have to explain myself. So I straighten up and quietly keep my small spoon down.

"I'm so sorry." I quietly begin. He pauses, then keeps the box to his side.

"You don't have to feel like you're obligated to tell me. I'm sorry if I was hard on you before, I was just worried." He kicks an invisible pebble and I sigh.

Hard?

Is he kidding me?

He has been anything but hard on me tonight.

More like gentle is the word.

Now this is just turning the wrong way.

"I want to." I say my voice strong.

"What?" He asks surprised.

"I want to." I repeat but he shakes his head.

"I heard you the first time but why?"

"I don't know why you're so surprised? Do you not want me to tell you?"

"I do!" He exlaims but quickly tries to cover it.

"I mean, yeah whatever."

I smile deeply this time and he blinks a few times before looking away.

"Tell me." He urges quietly and I breathe a few times.

So I tell him.

Everything.

From my parents first fight to the last one where my Dad almost, almost raised a hand on her but I got in them and took the hit. It was almost nothing. He would never hurt her. But the fact that he reached the point where it made him want to raise his hand on her was a deal breaker. And since I was the one who got that slap ( I'd barely call it that knowing how light it was) mum was determined to get us out of there.

I tell him about today.

About the divorce.

Emma.

He listens everything quietly without interruptions. And somewhere in between when the waterworks starts he holds my hand in his big ones gently rubbing small circles so soothing it makes me want to close my eyes and fall into a deep slumber.

On his shoulder.

When I'm done he pulls me in a hug murmuring comforting things but his words can't offer me the comfort the way his chest does. I rest my head on it and feel everything else fading away except the fatigue of a long day kicking in. I close my eyes when he keeps running his hand through my hair and my back slowly, gently. Its so quiet, I hear his hushed breaths, the way it softly hits my skin, the night insect's loud voice, the crisp air making me snuggle deeper within his arms.