Still Human

Chapter Eight Danny I wanted your opinion on some wallpaper samples.

My fingers type quickly. I’m using the morning to catch up on work. It takes my mind off the fact that Max and Charlie are having brunch with Liv, almost certainly discussing me, and I have to keep away. I’m no longer in hiding, but I want to maintain a respectful distance until she tells me otherwise. Until I’m invited, I will carry on with my previous routine. She will never know I’m here.

I yawn as I wait for a file to load. I’m so tired. I guess I haven’t caught up with my jet lag yet. I’ve changed time zones so many times lately, I’ve no normal to try to return to. Before I came back, I was keeping terrible hours, working hard, trying to forget Liv. Then I was sick with worry and hit the ground running when I arrived. I’ve been doing two jobs, both with demandingly long hours and I’m spending every spare second attempting to get through to Liv. It has been exhausting. I hardly slept last night, going over everything in my head. My body aches from tiredness.

I push away from the desk, stand up and stretch. I look longingly at the cosy bed. I should try and sleep. I’m not needed anywhere and if Liv does want to talk later, I won’t be up to it if I’m this tired. I look back at the computer guiltily, how productive am I really being? I’ve done plenty and I’m way ahead. I crash onto the welcoming bed but just lay staring at the ceiling. This is the problem. I go to bed but nothing happens. That’s why I’ve been working so much, because if I’m awake I need to be occupied or I start to think, then I just beat myself up for the giant fuck-up of the past few weeks.

Here it comes… First, I kick myself for not being totally honest with Liv about Brooke. If I had, she would know I have nothing to hide and we wouldn’t have a problem now. Next, I beat myself up for adding to the problem, by not admitting I’d made a mistake and continuing to hide more and more stuff about Brooke from Liv. That is why she doesn’t trust me, it’s totally my fault. Then I curse myself for being so self-centred that I couldn’t or wouldn’t see the real reason she left me. I wallowed in self-pity for a week and didn’t give her feelings a single thought. I felt wronged so I wasted time. I should have been here and the accident would never have happened. Yes, the accident is my fault too and then, despite the fact that I rushed to be by her side, I’ve not actually had the guts to force my way back in. Max has been really supportive, but he’s been insistent on me, giving Liv enough space. I should have been by her bedside when she woke up instead of sneaking out like a criminal.

I stare at the ceiling. The pity party passes fairly quickly, after all, I’ve been rehashing it all for days and days. I can go through the motions in record time now. But then I’m left empty. I feel no better for taking responsibility for it all. It means nothing unless Liv forgives me. If she won’t, I’ve no idea what I’ll do with my life.

I wish I could talk to Jen. She’s well-practiced at the pep talk I need right now. She’s been doing it every day, since I got here. She knows what to say to pick me up. She was over the moon last night when I called after my shift to tell her that I’d seen Liv. She thinks I did the right thing leaving her to process everything and she agrees with Max that I should let her come to me now. But it’s eating me up, what if she doesn’t? I need Jen to convince me again now, but she will be sleeping. God damned time differences. Why does life have to be so hard? I haven’t questioned coming here to be with Liv. But now that I’m here and she won’t see me, I miss Jen so much.

Max and Charlie have been so great. They’ve really welcomed me and that has made things easier. They’ve put me up and made sure I feel at home. I have a nice room, which is more like a hotel suite and you can tell that they love having guests to take care of. I think Max is a great friend to Liv, but he’s become my friend too. It’s meant the world to have him behind me through this ordeal. As my thoughts spin in their irritating circles, I finally drift into a distressingly anxious sleep.

Stirring awake, I suddenly sit up. I glance around the room, although for what I don’t know. I feel like the whole atmosphere in here has changed, like while I was sleeping, someone came in and shook everything up. I jump up, in search of the source. What has changed? Charlie is working at his desk when I walk past his office.

“You’re back?” I look at my watch. It’s almost 16:00, of course he is back. “How is she?” I ask hesitantly, fearing his answer.

“She’s okay,” he replies just as hesitantly.

“What? What’s happened? What did she say?” I feel the panic rising.

“We just talked it through,” he says simply. “Don’t panic.” He smiles slightly. “Talk to her.”

“I wish it were that simple,” I say, running my fingers through my hair. “Where’s Max?”

“He went back in early. Do you want something to eat before you go?” I give him a tight smile, I really appreciate his hospitality.

“I’ll grab something there.” I shake my head. “Thanks though.” I wander into the living room. The air is different in here to. More positive I think. Maybe it’s just having a sleep, but even as I think it I know that’s not true. I’ve had dreadful, restless sleep with hopeless dreams since she left. I dream that she is just out of reach, different scenarios all with the same result play out every time I manage to close my eyes, so I know I can’t thank any amount of sleep for making things feel lighter this afternoon. I shrug it off and pour myself a glass of water in the super-modern kitchen. I keep forgetting the ice-cold filtered water dispenser in the refrigerator door. I just go to the sink like a normal person.

I saunter back into my room to change my clothes for work tonight. I don’t bother showering, I will need one later anyway, Saturday nights in the bar leave a stain or two. I slide my Lady Luck’s shirt on and look at myself in the mirror as I pull it straight. It makes me feel close to her to wear this, I know that’s ridiculous, but when I think about being part of something she created I feel proud, whether she wants me to or not. Also, the fact that I’m proving that I don’t ever want to be anywhere but here with her, gives me a slight sense of satisfaction.

I pick up my keys and cell and say bye to Charlie on my way out, still feeling off balance because something I can’t put my finger on feels different and Charlie seems cagey. Turning left onto the sidewalk, I begin the ten-minute walk I do every day, to the place where I belong. I feel more nervous today though, because Liv knows I’m here. My guess is, she will stay out of the way and I will just have to wait, like before. I consider texting her, but I promised her I'd lay off and I remember the advice of both Max and Jen. Wait, they both told me. Let her come to you.

I push open the door to the bar and breeze through to the back, completely at home now. I pass the bar and call out “Hey” to the guys. Toby stands closest to me and gives me a nervous look as I pass. Just as I’m wondering why, something catches my eye in the corner opposite the bar. I turn and see Liv sitting on the sofa, her leg propped up, watching me intently. I stop in my tracks and stare at her. She doesn’t look the same as she did last night. She looks stronger. Her arms are folded across her chest, not in an angry, bossy way, but more for comfort. A half-empty glass of something sits on the table beside her cell and she just stares.

I don’t know what to do for the best, my easy feeling has evaporated and rather than being completely at home, I feel like an unwelcome intruder. Having said that, she knows I’m here. Max must have told her when I was due in, so perhaps she wants to see me. I curl one side of my mouth in a shy smile. Her lips press together, an acknowledgement of my expression, but obviously she isn’t in a smiley place just yet. Should I go over? I can hardly not.

I cautiously walk towards her and when I reach her she nods to the other sofa. I sit on the edge of the seat and eye her speculatively.

“I thought you weren’t going to show,” she says tentatively.

I frown. “You need me here, as if I wouldn’t show up.” I say defensively. “I won’t let you down again, Liv. I’m here to show you that.”

She looks confused. “Didn’t you get my message?”

“Message?” I ask, reaching into my pants pocket for my cell. I flip it over and unlock the screen. There’s a text from Liv. Fuck. I open it. Fuck, fuck! I call and I beg and I wait, then when she finally does contact me, I’m fucking sleeping. Shit!

‘Can we talk? I’ll be in the bar if you have time. Liv’

“Shit. Sorry, I was sleeping.”

“I know, I saw,” she says, cool and calm.

“Saw?”

She nods. “I came back with Max, but you were asleep.”

“You wanted to see me?”

She nods again. We have totally lost our flow when it comes to conversation.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

She thinks for a moment and shrugs. “I didn’t feel like it was my place.” Her expression is sad.

“What? Of course it’s your place,” I bark, then I realise that sounded a little more aggressive than I intended. “Christ Liv, why would you think that?” I put my face in my hands then look back up at her. I shouldn’t be taking this out on her, I’m just disappointed at the opportunity I missed while I was asleep. “So you came over to talk to me and saw I was asleep and just left?”

“I sat for a while,” she says with an unaffected tone.

“You sat?” Jesus, this just goes from bad to worse!

“Well I’m a little unsteady on my feet at the moment.” She scoffs. “I had to sit.”

“Where?’ I ask. Mystified at how this could have happened, I’ve hardly slept for weeks and she sits beside me the one time I manage some deep, unbroken sleep. The world is a cruel, cruel place.

“On your chair.”

I sigh. “I don’t believe it,” I say shaking my head. “Wake me next time for heaven’s sake.”

“You looked like you needed the rest,” she says with something bordering on fondness. Her guard is still very much up though.

“I haven’t been sleeping that well and I’m keeping terrible hours. Still, I’m surprised I didn’t hear you.”

“I was quiet…It was refreshing to see you and not hear you. It gave me time to think.” Ouch! I guess I’ve been hounding her.

“How long did you sit?” I ask, resigned now that I screwed up an opportunity.

“Half an hour, or so,” she says, as if it’s nothing. I was with her for half an hour, her choice and I wasn’t awake. That sucks! I’m suddenly buoyed by this revelation though.

A) She came to see me.

B) She watched me sleep for half an hour.

And…

C) She text me asking to meet.

I may be disappointed that I missed her being in my room, but these are all good things that have happened.

“You watched me sleep?”

She reluctantly nods…YES!! This is perfect, you don’t watch someone you hate, sleep!

I steel myself, I must not appear smug now, I’ll blow all my chances, but I feel great. No wonder the air had changed when I woke up. Liv was there, watching me sleep. Blowing out a long sigh and trying to save face, I focus on the injustice.

“It’s not fair.” I huff.

She furrows her brow. “Not fair?”

“There have been plenty of opportunities where I could have watched you sleep.” I pout. “But I wouldn’t take advantage of you being medicated.”

She laughs. “Well you weren’t medicated and besides you have taken advantage of me being in this state.” She points angrily at her leg.

“How?”

“You always called when I was at my weakest. Max was giving you the inside track. I’ve been well and truly played,” she spits.

We stop trading barbs for a moment. This is exhausting.

“So what did you want to see me about?” I attempt to steer us onto a more productive path.

She laughs and shakes her head, raising her eyes to the ceiling. “Oh, you know, I wanted your opinion on some wallpaper samples…What do you think?” That’s the first time she has really laughed since I can’t remember when. It was pure sarcasm, but my God it’s good to hear.

“You want to talk?” I almost whisper. My fragile state betrayed by my voice. She nods. I look down at my hands. “Good talk, or bad talk?” I know I sound pathetic.

She sighs and, instinctively I look up at her. “I want to hear it all. Start to finish, while I’m looking in your eyes. It’s the only way I’ll ever be sure.”

“That you believe me?” I ask daring to presume this is what she means.

“We will see won’t we?” Her tone is cold, but her gaze intense.

“So when do you want to do this?” I ask, thinking we would schedule some time.

“No time like the present.” She shrugs.

“But…” I stutter, gesturing towards the bar. “I’m working tonight.”

“It’s not even five, you have time.”

I was going to grab some food, but suddenly I’ve lost my appetite. “Okay, but not here.” I look over my shoulder at the guys at the bar. “Can we go upstairs?”

“Yeah, I don’t want to cry down here.” She begins to shuffle herself to standing. Cry?…oh God! I know I can make this right, but I keep forgetting that she’ll have to go to hell and back first. Once she is up, I feel I should help her in some way. It’s so strange, I’ve been going through this as if I’ve been with her the whole time. I know every detail, every appointment, the cans and cant’s. I know the physiotherapy exercises she has to do every day. But I haven’t actually been near her, or tried to help her. I don’t know how much help she even needs and now is not the time to get it wrong.

“Can I do anything?” I ask.

“No, I’ve got it. Can you bring my drink?” So, I pick up her glass and follow her out the back door, across the garden and watch while she puts the code into her door and wrestles it open, all without ever putting her foot to the ground. And that bandage looks really heavy. Ever the control freak. She hands me her crutches without a word and turns to sit on the first stair. Then she starts hoisting herself nimbly up each step.

“Shall I just carry you?” I ask before I think.

She shoots me a disgusted look. “God no! It’s humiliating enough that you have to see me do it this way.” Then she continues in silence, leaving me feeling terrible for humiliating her further. “I can do it you know… standing up.” She’s seething. I try not to watch her, I don’t want her to feel worse. She continues her rant. “Mum’s stairs were no problem, it’s just these. They’re really steep.”

“Sorry,” I whisper. She ignores me. After an excruciating couple of minutes she is on the top step. She holds out her hand for her crutches and uses them to hop up the last step. Once we are in I relax. I set her drink down on the table and wait while she settles in.

“Alright,” she says as I sit in the armchair, “let’s hear it.” She looks at me with pleading eyes. Pleading me not to hurt her further. I can do that.