Forked Roads Back

59 - ARCHIE

IT'S BEEN A REALLY odd these last few weeks.

Despite still living here, because I didn't want her to go back to Billy's for her own safety, I haven't really spoken to Lara. The most I've asked is if she wanted a drink.

I really am trying to find it in myself to forgive her, but whenever I look at her, that betrayal comes straight back. The only thing I could see was how she had been so quick to believe Billy that she wasn't even prepared to take anything I said into account.

It had completely shattered my trust in her, as well as the small amount of confidence I had gained in myself again. I had finally let someone in. I had finally learned to rely on someone again, and now it was all gone. I had lost that crutch, just when I really needed it the most.

College was finished for summer, and with me only needing to take one more extra class in the Fall term to have enough credits to graduate in December, I tended to spend most evenings at work... which had been strangely enjoyable.

We have a games hall now, with a pool table, table tennis with a restaurant and bar for those entertaining clients. If I went home, I was always aware that she was there, whereas at least at work I felt like I could relax a bit more. It sounds strange to think that, especially after how I first felt about WEH.

It was better for Lara too, as she had the apartment to herself... It was a bit odd, yes, but when the only other option for New York was her living with Billy, I didn't want her to leave. Her dad was now in Sacramento, but when I knew how uncomfortable she was around her dad, I didn't want to force her there either.

It was all a bit rubbish to be honest, but what happened had solidified the decision of moving home in my mind.

I was graduating in December, and with Millie and Greg landing in a week for their five-month trip, I had the opportunity to head home with them. But as much as I wanted to deny I cared for Lara, I knew I did. Or at least I cared enough that I couldn't just up and leave her.

It's nearly ten now, past when I usually get up and go out, and I'm lying here, the heat stifling as the blackout curtains help the sun broil me alive. I can hear her doing something in the living room, moving from side to side, but instead of ignoring her and waiting until she goes out, I get up and grab some shorts. Pulling a top on, covering my still-bruised ribs, I hear the TV turn on and the unmissable theme tune from Friends.

I head over to the wardrobe on my way to the door, examining the damage on my face.

The plate had now been implanted in my cheek, so my cheek didn't look so deflated now, but the swelling was still quite bad. I touch the skin below my eye, where the new scar has replaced the old one, and wince. Cruz had said it would always be a bit tender, and prescribed an ice pack for an hour each evening until the swelling goes down fully. He says it will scar, but the one thing I'm grateful to Billy for is the fact this new scar is covering up the old scar. I'm trying to see it as a positive, and not the fact I'm scarred even worse.

When I come out into the living room, Lara is sitting on the sofa watching the TV with a bowl of cereal on her lap. She hasn't seen me, so I watch her for a moment.

Her hair is down, still messy around her shoulders as she hasn't brushed it yet, and as she laughs, she tips her head back and her laughter fills the room. It makes me laugh too.

She turns around with a gasp, flailing, only just saving the cereal in her lap and I feel bad she's clearly so uncomfortable.

I walk to the kitchen to get my own bowl and decide it was time I had to forgive her, as I don't like the way the atmosphere feels in the room. And I'm better than this.