Hold On Tight (Take My Hand) (18 page)

~Emily~

I
started missing Chris about ten minutes
after he left for the airport yesterday. I offered to go with him and wave him
off but in his words ‘he’s not got time for all that soppy shit’.

In a pointless effort to take my mind off things while Sarah was working
I went on a serious cleaning mission. I wiped, vacuumed, mopped and polished
every available surface before reorganising all the kitchen cupboards –
putting everything in size ascending order and making sure all the packets and
tins were facing forwards. Of course, in a flat this tiny it only took me an
hour and soon enough I was back on the couch twiddling my thumbs.

Sarah and I stayed up late last night making plans. She seems to be
giving the whole moving to the UK idea some serious thought and has even looked
on the internet for midwife vacancies and all the rules and regulations that go
along with emigrating. From the information she gathered we’re pretty sure
she’d have to attend some refresher courses or maybe even go back into
part-time study but she’s more than willing – excited even – to do
that.

There’s one humongous obstacle in her way of course.

Dexter.

Neither of us can make any definitive plans until we know whether Dexter
will be on board. Obviously this is proving difficult seeing as he’s still
refusing to see us. I swear if I didn’t love him so bloody much I would hate
him right now.

Resigning myself to yet another day sitting in front of the TV I changed
into my pyjamas, popped Sarah’s Titanic DVD in and slumped back into the
mountain of cushions I’d piled up on the couch. I’d just pressed play when my
phone dinged. Leaning forward I plucked it off the coffee table, expecting it
to be Sarah, and then gasped when I saw it was in fact Jared.

Jared: Rach misses u.
She’s just too stubborn to say it. WTF’s gone on with u 2?

Jared: P.S. I miss u
too

Gripping my phone a little tighter, my heart felt unbearably heavy.
Tears pricked the back of my eyes and I brought the phone to my chest and
hugged it as though it were Rachel herself. WTF’s gone on with us, he asked. I
don’t even know. And you know what? I don’t even care. Jared was right. It’s
gone on too long. Rachel has always been too stubborn for her own good and I’ve
always been a wallower which is what’s turned this situation into the mess it
is. Rachel’s pride won’t allow her to back down, and my over-analysing has made
me too afraid too make the first move.

Enough is enough. I want my best friend back.

Releasing my firm grip on my phone, I swiped across the screen and went
to the last conversation between Rachel and me.

ME: I miss y

I stopped mid-type when a call interrupted me. It was The Springs
– Dexter’s rehab centre – and in the two seconds it took me to
answer a thousand different scenarios raced through my head. Was he sick? Had he
discharge himself? Ran away? Got hold of some drugs somewhere? Dear God was he
back in the hospital?

“Hello?” I answered quickly, my heart crashing against my ribs. “
Hello
?” I repeated agitatedly when I
didn’t get an immediate response.

“Hey, doll…” I gasped inwards and my lungs refused to let go of the air
until I started to feel lightheaded. “Emily? You there?”

“Y-yes. I’m…I’m here.” For what could’ve been hours after that sentence,
the only sound penetrating the dense air was that of our slow, heavy breaths.
“Are you… okay?” What a ridiculous question. Of course he wasn’t ‘okay’. If my
hand wasn’t shaking so badly, I would’ve slapped myself across the face.

“I’m getting there,” he replied sombrely. The sadness… the regret, in
his gruff voice cut deep into my chest like a razor blade. I didn’t need a
physical wound to feel such intense pain. “Emily, I’m…” he began but then
seemingly needed a moment to compose himself. I heard him sniff in his tears
and my hand instinctively reached out to touch him, to soothe him… then it
balled itself into a fist mid-air when it realised his smooth skin wasn’t
waiting at its destination. “I miss you.”

I tried to speak but all that came out was a sob. I tried to stifle it
with one hand over my mouth, the other struggling to keep a grasp on the phone
by my ear.

“Don’t cry, doll,” he soothed. “Please don’t cry.”

“Can I see you?” I asked shakily, terrified of his answer.

“Yes.” Yes? As in…
yes?
YES?

“Thank you. Dear God, thank you,” I whimpered down the phone.

“Don’t thank me, Emily. Just… just get here.”

“Now?” I asked – feeling surprised, hopeful, excited, petrified…

“Now.”

“I’m on my way.”

After hanging up the call I raced to my temporary bedroom and changed
into the black jeans and cream tunic with silver sequins sewn around the waist
and cuffs that were in a crumpled heap on the floor. Shoving my phone into my
pocket, I pulled on my trainers, threw my handbag over my shoulder and bolted
out the door – slamming it behind me.

I ran to the main road and hailed the first taxi I came to. God I missed
having a car at times like this. I’d have been at the centre before I’d even
said goodbye. I gave the driver the address and I’m sure I caught his
judgemental eyes narrow in disgust. Dick head.

My mouth dropped open when the driver pulled our taxi into the grounds
of The Springs. I was expecting it to be clinical looking like a hospital.
Instead my eyes were greeted with vibrant flowerbeds, vast manicured lawns and
a mansion-like building that resembled a gazillion star hotel. The driver
grunted something inaudible and pointed to the fare meter. I handed over a
twenty-dollar bill and told him to keep the change – not because he
deserved it, but I was too desperate to get inside the building to wait.

My fast-paced strides waned into slow, anxious steps when I approached
the gleaming glass doors. I walked inside and approached the polished wood desk
that span across the whole wall in front of me. A woman with purposely-curled
blonde hair and a sickly sweet smile look up at me over the top of her designer
glasses.

“Can I help you?” she asked with a nauseatingly high-pitched voice.

“I’m here to see Dexter Michaels. My name’s Emily. Emily Barton.”

“Emily?” I looked around to the sound of my name, recognising the voice
as that of Jeff – Dexter’s therapist. His Geordie accent was
unmistakeable. I reached out and took the hand he was offering. “Great to
finally meet you, pet. Can I borrow your ears for a minute?”

“Sure,” I agreed, forcing a smile. All I wanted was to get to Dexter.
Jeff cocked his head for me to follow and I trailed behind him as he led me to
what I assumed was his office. He gestured for me to take a seat in a big brown
chair, so I did. Then he perched himself on the edge of his desk with one foot
firmly on the floor and the other hanging from the table. It looked awfully
uncomfortable but hey, whatever floats his boat.

“So… how do you feel about seeing Dexter today?” he began.

“Ugh,” I breathed a frustrated sigh. “Excited. Nervous. Worried.
Hopeful…” Jeff nodded sympathetically.

“That’s to be expected. You should know he’s come a long way the past
few days. He’s making really good progress.”

“That’s so good to hear.”

“But I need you to be aware that this is a
long
process. Dexter is far from being healthy – physically
and
mentally.”

“I know that. And I’m willing to support him however I can. It’s all
I’ve ever wanted. He just wouldn’t let me.”

“Yeah. Stubborn bastard isn’t he?” My eyebrow shot up. Nothing about this
man said ‘professional’. I liked it, and I imagined Dexter would too. “I
believe you. I think you’ll be good for his recovery. But don’t take on too
much by yourself. This could be a hard road. You need to take time for
you
. My role isn’t just to work with
Dexter. I’m here for you too, and anyone else involved in his recovery.”

“Um… thanks?” Unintentionally, it came out like a question. Was he
saying
I
needed therapy too?

“Don’t look so afraid. I don’t bite,” Jeff teased. “Hard,” he added with
a wink. My whole life flashed before me when I almost choked to death on my own
spit. “Haway,” he said, cocking his head as he slid off the edge of the table
to his feet. “He’s waiting for you in the visitor’s lounge. I’ll take you to
him.”

Sucking in a heavy breath, I got to my feet and followed Jeff out of the
room. He led me through a huge lounge with plush couches, padded chairs and a
TV bigger than Sarah’s flat. Then we walked down a long hallway with floor to
ceiling windows overlooking a sports courtyard and a bit further down… get
this… a bloody swimming pool!

I didn’t realise my tongue was hanging out until Jeff stopped abruptly
and I slammed into him.

“Sorry,” I muttered automatically.

“Don’t worry, pet. It’s a lot to take in, eh?”

“Yeah,” I agreed, my fingers twitching by my side in anticipation.

“Just listen,” he added reassuringly as I reached for the door handle.
“Talk… Be patient. Gizza shout if you need me.”

“Thanks, Jeff,” I uttered sincerely. Nodding, he turned and walked back
along the hallway the way we came.

Placing my hand on the cold, round doorknob, my breathing had quickened
despite my decided efforts to control it. I turned the knob and choked on the
involuntary sob that took over my body when I saw Dexter sitting on the edge of
a cream-leather bench seat with his hands clasped together across his knees.

“Emily,” he breathed, rising to his feet and tucking his hands into his
pockets. He walked a step towards me and froze. I did the same. Then we just
stood there staring at each other like we were both unsure of the other’s
intentions. I knew all I wanted was to wrap my arms around him and never let
him go, but I couldn’t help worrying if he’d push me away. As I stared into his
troubled denim-blue eyes, I wondered if he was thinking the exact same thing
about me.

Seconds later, without warning, Dexter lunged forward and crashed his
body into mine – wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me so
tightly into his chest it was verging on painful.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered into my neck - his warm breath
swept over the sensitive flesh, sending aching shivers down my spine.

“I’ve missed you too,” I croaked, the tears welling around my swollen
eyes once again. “So much.”

“I’m gonna make this right, doll. I swear to you. I swear I can take
care of you. I’m serious, doll… this place,” he said, releasing me slightly and
gesturing one hand around the room. “It’s changing me. Jeff? He’s… well I’m not
sure how, but he’s finally getting through to me. For the first time in my life
I
believe
I can do this. I need you,
Emily. I love you and I swear on my mother’s grave I won’t
ever
let you down again.”

My throat was too swollen, too clogged with tears to reply. Instead I
just wept into his chest and swayed back and forth with him. I’d waited so long
for this moment and I gripped onto him as hard as I could. When he tried to
pull back I tightened my hold on him – terrified if I let him go I would
lose him again.

“Doll,” he murmured. I shook my head – refusing to acknowledge
him. I
wouldn’t
let him go again.
“Emily,” he pressed again as he gently tried to pry my arms off him. “I’m
here,” he whispered. “I won’t push you away again. I promise.”

God I wish I could believe him.

“I’m afraid, Dex. I’m so scared of losing you again,” I whined into his chest.

“Doll, look at me,” he ordered in a soft, pleading voice. Nervously, I
looked up to meet his eyes – never releasing my grip of his shirt. “I
want to earn your trust again. I don’t care how long it takes… hour by hour,
day by day – I
will
prove myself.
I can’t promise you the earth, Emily… but I
can
promise that I’ll never stop trying to show how much I love you.”

“I
want
to believe you,” I
snivelled.

“I don’t need you to put your faith in me, doll. Not yet. All I need
from you right now is time. Say you’ll stay long enough to let me try and make
this better.
Please…
”

It only took a momentary glance into his eyes to know my answer. So far,
there have been more downs than ups between us – more tears than
laughter… but it seems I’m suffering from my own addiction.

Dexter.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted from you. To
let
me be here for you.”

I buried my face back into his chest and he pressed one hand to the back
of my head and rubbed up and down my spine with the other.

“Don’t ever forget that I love you,” he whispered into my hair. And just
like that, all the sadness, tears, heartache and worry… disappeared into
insignificance.