I lay there, stock still, wondering if I’d dreamt it or if I really had heard a noise.
Then it started again. Insistent, loud, relentless hammering. Ignoring the mild feeling of panic that was about to engulf me, I forced myself to get out of bed. There was someone was at my door. It didn’t mean that something bad had happened to anyone that I loved. This wasn’t the middle of the night. It was a perfectly respectable hour of the morning and I was just being lazy – something that I didn’t think was such a bad thing on my Saturday off…
Frowning, since the person outside of my door wasn’t about to give up any time soon, I made my way to my apartment’s front (only) door. I peered through the peephole. “What the fuck?” I muttered as I saw who was on the other side of the door.
I undid the bolts and turned the thumb lock and opened the door.
“Hi.” Robson smiled nervously at me.
“Hi.” I replied, “What do you want?” Yes, I was being churlish. But I felt completely justified. I hadn’t heard from him once since I’d married Guy. He and Freddie hadn’t been able to come to my reception that Mum and Dad had kindly thrown for me and Guy and the last time I’d spoken to him, he was warning me not to rush into something that might still be just a rebound thing.
Well, hadn’t that been the truth? But I wasn’t about to admit to it now. I was definitely in a mourning of sorts – not of Guy per se. I think I was actually in a delayed mourning of the life I could have had with the lovely guy in front of me, who was looking at me with such a look of concern on his face, I wanted to cry.
All I’d wanted in life was someone who didn’t have any skeletons in the closet – or additional boyfriends that I hadn’t ordered…
“Can I come in?”
I shrugged, “Where’s faithful Freddie?” I asked sarcastically. We both knew that the words ‘faithful’ and ‘Freddie’ didn’t belong in the same sentence…
He grimaced, “We’re uh, on a break.” He said, “He says he needs some space – he reckons he needs time to work out what he really wants from a relationship.”
“I’ll bet he does.” I snapped, “Bastard.”
Robson sighed, “Look, Brad,” he said, “I’m not here to cry on your shoulder about Freddie’s misdemeanours. I’m here because I’m worried about you – and I want to help.”
I blinked, “I don’t need help.” I said indignantly.
He looked around my apartment and then back at me, “Don’t you?” he asked.
I followed his gaze and my jaw dropped. Fuck’s sake. How long had I been walking around with my eyes wide shut? There were boxes on boxes of take out leftovers spilling out all over the coffee table. There were others stacked up on the floor next to the kitchen bin, where I’d obviously tried at one point to make an effort to tidy up the place before crawling off to bed, emotionally exhausted with everything. The sideboard was covered with unopened mail, there were pots in the sink from weeks ago that I hadn’t gotten around to. “It smells like someone died in here.” Robson said, making a face.
“That’s because someone did.” I said, “I did.” I added dramatically.
Robson threw his arms around me and hugged me to him. “Oh, baby.” He said, his voice cracking, “I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through.”
In that moment, everything I’d been keeping in, holding back and trying to keep a lid on, while trying to make sense of the fact that my total shit of a husband had left me almost penniless and in a worse situation than I had been in before I met him, all came to a head and I let out a sound no human should ever be allowed to emit. It was pain personified.
I clung to Robson as if he were my lifeline, “I’m sorry,” I managed through my sobs, “I’m sorry to be such a m-m-mess.”
He shook his head, ushering me to my sofa, “Oh, my God. I should have come around sooner.” He fretted, “Some friend I am.”
I wiped my hand over my face, streaking a line of snot across my cheek from my nose but not even noticing, “You’re here now,” I hiccupped, “That’s enough.”
He smiled at me sadly, “It’ll never be enough.” He said. “But you’re right. I am here now – and I’ll stay with you for as long as it takes to make you better.”
I sighed and nodded, “I’m not sure I’m fixable.”
He smiled, “Sure you are,” he said, giving me a hug, “you’ll bounce back from this, mate – I know you will.”
Out Now!
