The Ending I Want
Page 63
“Yeah, I guess I’m kind of used to it.”
“Seasoned drinker?” I jest.
“Nah, brandy is just Grandpa’s answer to everything. Fall over and scrape your knee? Glass of brandy. Girlfriend dumps you? Glass of brandy.”
“He gave you brandy when you were young?” I’m guessing he meant young from the scraped knee comment.
He laughs. “Only a toddy.”
“He did have you flying planes when you were barely out of diapers, so I shouldn’t be surprised at the hard liquor.”
“I told you that he was a little unconventional.” He grins.
“But it works for him. He’s a wonderful man. He loves you a lot.”
“I love him a lot, too.”
Hearing him say that about his grandpa sets off an ache deep inside my heart. The one that reminds me that I used to have that. I used to have people who loved me in that way.
And, now, I don’t.
Liam clears his throat. “Boston, I’m sorry that my grandpa asked about your parents at dinner. I should’ve thought ahead and told him it was a no-go area.”
“It’s fine.”
And it was. It could have been a lot worse. But I handled it better than I had before.
That’s because of Liam. Because he was there beside me. His strength gave me the strength to talk about them.
A bunch of framed photographs on a table over by the window catches my eye. Leaving Liam, I walk over to them. I put my glass on the table by the pictures and start looking at them.
There are pictures of Liam with his grandpa and ones of a young Liam dressed in his school uniform.
“Aw, you were really cute when you were a kid.”
“Hot, I think is the word you’re looking for, Boston.”
I glance at him over my shoulder. He’s sitting on the arm of the sofa.
“Um, no, I definitely mean cute. Pedophilia isn’t my thing.”
“Ah, yeah, good point.” He chuckles before putting his glass to his lips.
I look back at the pictures. I see one of Liam, Cam, and Eddie. They’re dressed in rugby uniforms, standing in a line, and they have their arms around each other.
I spy a picture at the back. It catches my eye because it’s a picture of Liam with a girl.
I pick the photo up and stare at it.
Liam and the mystery girl are standing in front of a small airplane. The plane has Liam’s company logo on the side.
He looks younger than he does now. I’d say he’s in his early twenties in the picture. The girl looks to be about the same age. And she’s pretty. Really pretty. Long pale-blonde hair. Eyes so blue they stand out in the photograph. And she looks tall, standing next to Liam.
I turn to him, the picture still in my hand. “An ex-girlfriend?” I say the words calmly, but the jealousy I feel is shocking in its intensity.
The expression on Liam’s face freezes when his eyes meet with the photograph.
I feel an uncomfortable twist in my gut.
His eyes darken. “I didn’t know that was there.” The tone of his voice is hard and unyielding.
I’ve never heard him sound that way before.
He puts his glass down on a small table by the sofa. Then, he comes over and takes the picture from my hand. He stalks over to a cabinet and opens the drawer in it. Liam puts the frame in the drawer and shuts it so hard that the cabinet shakes. He walks back over and picks his glass up from the table.
My heart is beating hard. I’m not sure what just happened. And I’m not sure what to say.
But I do know that I feel rattled that a picture of his ex-girlfriend could elicit such a strong response from him.
“Who…is she?” I tentatively ask the question.
Liam doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at the liquor in his glass.
I figure he isn’t going to answer, so I’m surprised when he does.
“Kate.” The word comes out coarse and angry, and it’s all he says.
Kate? Why does that name sound familiar?
I search around my mind, trying to recall why that name sounds familiar, when Liam quietly says, “She was my fiancée.”
Oh.
Oh, wow. That hurts.
There’s an actual pain in my chest, and my stomach feels like it’s just bottomed out.
For a moment, I feel cheated. Like he’s lied to me. He didn’t tell me something as important as the fact that he once had a fiancée.
But then again, why would he? It’s none of my business. He’s just fucking me.
And it’s not like I’ve been truthful with him.
I’ve told him that my family died, but I haven’t told him that the reason they died was because of me. Because of my selfishness.
I haven’t told him that I’m dying. That I’m letting this brain tumor kill me, so I can pay penance and be with them.
It’s not exactly like I can get up on my high horse about this.
So, I just simply say and do nothing.
Liam seems to break from the trance he was in. In an angry movement, he downs the brandy in one gulp and slams the glass back down on the table.
“Let’s go to bed,” he speaks to me without looking at me, already moving for the door.
I don’t answer. I just quickly finish my own drink.
Liam is already a good way down the hallway, striding in the direction of the staircase. I have to hurry to catch up with him. When I do catch up, he doesn’t acknowledge my presence.
The walk to his room is painfully silent and filled with confusion on my part.
I feel like we’ve had a fight without actually having had the fight.
As soon as we get into his bedroom, I grab my pajamas and toiletry bag, and I head straight for the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
“Seasoned drinker?” I jest.
“Nah, brandy is just Grandpa’s answer to everything. Fall over and scrape your knee? Glass of brandy. Girlfriend dumps you? Glass of brandy.”
“He gave you brandy when you were young?” I’m guessing he meant young from the scraped knee comment.
He laughs. “Only a toddy.”
“He did have you flying planes when you were barely out of diapers, so I shouldn’t be surprised at the hard liquor.”
“I told you that he was a little unconventional.” He grins.
“But it works for him. He’s a wonderful man. He loves you a lot.”
“I love him a lot, too.”
Hearing him say that about his grandpa sets off an ache deep inside my heart. The one that reminds me that I used to have that. I used to have people who loved me in that way.
And, now, I don’t.
Liam clears his throat. “Boston, I’m sorry that my grandpa asked about your parents at dinner. I should’ve thought ahead and told him it was a no-go area.”
“It’s fine.”
And it was. It could have been a lot worse. But I handled it better than I had before.
That’s because of Liam. Because he was there beside me. His strength gave me the strength to talk about them.
A bunch of framed photographs on a table over by the window catches my eye. Leaving Liam, I walk over to them. I put my glass on the table by the pictures and start looking at them.
There are pictures of Liam with his grandpa and ones of a young Liam dressed in his school uniform.
“Aw, you were really cute when you were a kid.”
“Hot, I think is the word you’re looking for, Boston.”
I glance at him over my shoulder. He’s sitting on the arm of the sofa.
“Um, no, I definitely mean cute. Pedophilia isn’t my thing.”
“Ah, yeah, good point.” He chuckles before putting his glass to his lips.
I look back at the pictures. I see one of Liam, Cam, and Eddie. They’re dressed in rugby uniforms, standing in a line, and they have their arms around each other.
I spy a picture at the back. It catches my eye because it’s a picture of Liam with a girl.
I pick the photo up and stare at it.
Liam and the mystery girl are standing in front of a small airplane. The plane has Liam’s company logo on the side.
He looks younger than he does now. I’d say he’s in his early twenties in the picture. The girl looks to be about the same age. And she’s pretty. Really pretty. Long pale-blonde hair. Eyes so blue they stand out in the photograph. And she looks tall, standing next to Liam.
I turn to him, the picture still in my hand. “An ex-girlfriend?” I say the words calmly, but the jealousy I feel is shocking in its intensity.
The expression on Liam’s face freezes when his eyes meet with the photograph.
I feel an uncomfortable twist in my gut.
His eyes darken. “I didn’t know that was there.” The tone of his voice is hard and unyielding.
I’ve never heard him sound that way before.
He puts his glass down on a small table by the sofa. Then, he comes over and takes the picture from my hand. He stalks over to a cabinet and opens the drawer in it. Liam puts the frame in the drawer and shuts it so hard that the cabinet shakes. He walks back over and picks his glass up from the table.
My heart is beating hard. I’m not sure what just happened. And I’m not sure what to say.
But I do know that I feel rattled that a picture of his ex-girlfriend could elicit such a strong response from him.
“Who…is she?” I tentatively ask the question.
Liam doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at the liquor in his glass.
I figure he isn’t going to answer, so I’m surprised when he does.
“Kate.” The word comes out coarse and angry, and it’s all he says.
Kate? Why does that name sound familiar?
I search around my mind, trying to recall why that name sounds familiar, when Liam quietly says, “She was my fiancée.”
Oh.
Oh, wow. That hurts.
There’s an actual pain in my chest, and my stomach feels like it’s just bottomed out.
For a moment, I feel cheated. Like he’s lied to me. He didn’t tell me something as important as the fact that he once had a fiancée.
But then again, why would he? It’s none of my business. He’s just fucking me.
And it’s not like I’ve been truthful with him.
I’ve told him that my family died, but I haven’t told him that the reason they died was because of me. Because of my selfishness.
I haven’t told him that I’m dying. That I’m letting this brain tumor kill me, so I can pay penance and be with them.
It’s not exactly like I can get up on my high horse about this.
So, I just simply say and do nothing.
Liam seems to break from the trance he was in. In an angry movement, he downs the brandy in one gulp and slams the glass back down on the table.
“Let’s go to bed,” he speaks to me without looking at me, already moving for the door.
I don’t answer. I just quickly finish my own drink.
Liam is already a good way down the hallway, striding in the direction of the staircase. I have to hurry to catch up with him. When I do catch up, he doesn’t acknowledge my presence.
The walk to his room is painfully silent and filled with confusion on my part.
I feel like we’ve had a fight without actually having had the fight.
As soon as we get into his bedroom, I grab my pajamas and toiletry bag, and I head straight for the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
