All The Mixed Feelings (Van McCann)

Part 47

Abby

I was in free-fall. Suspended somewhere between disbelief and the knowledge that at some point I would have to face up to the terrible truth.

"Did he... did he actually sleep with her?"

Michelle's face twisted with the discomfort she felt in being the bearer of the news which had in truth completely knocked the wind out of me.

"Abs I'm so sorry but it sounds that way. Bob's really pissed off with him. He says he doesn't know what's got into him."

I stared at my bedroom wall, not seeing it but instead seeing Van and I lying in bed together, him telling me all about how he'd grown out of his womanising ways and was looking for something meaningful.

The hurt cut me so deep it was like a blade through my heart. I'd listened to him intently, daring to believe that although I was scared to take the chance right then, maybe one day I could be that special person to him. In reality I was no more than a notch on his bedpost. And how many more would he rack up whilst he was away?

A huge gasping sob suddenly rose in me and I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to swallow it down. Michelle was there in an instant, wrapping her arms around me, rubbing my back, whilst my tears fell.

"I don't know what to say Abs, I really thought he was one of the good guys. And to think I even stuck up for him when Eve was slagging him off."

"I can't believe all the stuff he said to me," I sobbed into Michelle's shoulder. "I believed every word."

Michelle pulled away eventually, crossing over to the dressing table to grab a tissue which she handed to me.

"What a complete bastard, after all the shit with Chris and then he does this to you."

My head felt in a fog, with so many thoughts swirling around I felt dizzy. Snatches of conversations I'd had with Van, images of the two of us together, the feel of his lips on mine. He'd made me feel so special but it was all a ruse. The thought of the lies he'd told me tripping so easily off his tongue made me feel physically sick. Chris's rant about me being naive and Van only being nice to me to try and get me into bed replayed in my bed.

"Michelle, I'm sorry but I think I want to be on my own for a bit," I managed to croak out through my tears, and she said she understood, giving me a hug and making me promise to call her the next day before slipping out.

It was only early evening but I peeled off my clothes and climbed into bed, burrowing under my duvet and squeezing my eyes shut. I felt like a tornado was raging around me and I was in the eye of the storm, small and helpless, clinging on to something, anything, so I didn't get swept away. I knew it was futile. This storm wasn't going away before it claimed me. I cried and cried until there was nothing left to come, and my empty sobs echoed around my room. When I finally slept I dreamt of Van.

* * * * *

I woke early, rubbing the sleep out of my puffy eyes and sitting up slowly, my dreams slowly falling away to leave me with my stark reality. The last few days had taken their toll on me, and I wondered how on earth I'd be able to slap on a brave face and go to work, just acting normally, whilst under the surface I felt like I was falling apart.

I slipped into my dressing gown and made my way downstairs. Eve was already in the kitchen, busying herself with making tea and toast but she stopped what she was doing when she saw me and rushed over. She gently took my face in her hands, inspecting my cheek and pulling a face.

"That bastard must have really whacked you, you're all the colours of the rainbow this morning. How's it feel?"

"A little better."