Hold On Tight (Take My Hand) (9 page)

“Not physically,” I replied. He removed his hand from my face and shrank
away from me. His face drained of colour and his mouth dropped open. He looked
winded – like I’d just kicked him in the stomach.

“Emily you need to go home,” he pronounced, staring down at the crumpled
duvet.

“Jesus, where the hell did that come from? What are you talking about?
I’m not going anywhere!”

“You have to, doll. I’ve hurt you too much already. I can’t do it
anymore.”

“Stop this right now!” I yelled – literally screamed. “I’m not
leaving you goddammit. I will
never
leave
you!”

“But I
want
you to.” I
flinched harshly as his words punched me in the chest. My jaw dropped open and
I struggled to breathe. “I’ve said it before, doll… I can’t make you happy. I’m
too selfish. For a time I thought I could… but I can’t. I don’t want this for
you. You should be at home with your friends, having fun and ticking off those
little boxes on that life list of yours. You should be smiling, and dancing,
and learning new things about the world. What you shouldn’t be doing, is crying
yourself to sleep every night. Not over
me
.
I’m not worth it.”

“You are to me,” I declared resolutely, crawling onto my knees and
throwing my arms around his neck. “It won’t always be like this. We’ll get
through this mess. If we just let Sarah sign over-”

“NO!” he blared, pushing me away from him. “I won’t bow down to that
monster! And to be honest I can’t believe either of you would even ask me to.
He’s taken EVERYTHING from me! Don’t you see?
HE
made me like this.
HE
turned
me into this worthless piece of shit and I will NOT back down to him. The fact
that you could expect me to? Well fuck, doll… that just blows my fucking mind.”

Just when I thought we were making progress, he lashes out at me.

Again.

As much as it pains me to say it because it feels like I’ve already
given up on him, I’ve learnt it’s not worth trying to calm him down. When his
eyes go dark and the muscles in his neck pop like this, it’s like he can’t even
hear me. All I can do is wait for him to run.

“I’m going out.”

And, there you have it.

~Dexter~

For
the first time in my life I was so looking
forward to this day. New Years Day. A day when you get to start over –
make plans and resolutions and get excited over the year of new things to come.
You see this year was the first time I actually thought I had a shot at it. I
had Emily. She was my future. She was the foundation for all my plans.

Turns
out though, it’s just the same as any other New Years Day. I’ve got nothing.

Emily’s
still here. But I wish she wasn’t. You think that sounds heartless? Well that’s
because I am. I’m letting her down day after day. She keeps trying to talk to
me – get me to open up. But I can’t deal with the pain making her
baby-blue eyes glisten so I just run. Every fucking time.

I
can’t remember the last time she smiled – the last time her plump little
lips turned up making her eyes light up and her cheeks flush. I did that to
her. I’ve taken her ability to be happy away. I’m destroying her, just like I
always knew I would.

Aunt
Sarah has accused me of using again. I’ve stopped denying it. That’s mainly
because I’ve stopped saying anything. I keep out of the house as much as
possible. I’m hanging on to my job at the garage by the skin of my teeth and I
spend the evenings either with Jaxon or holed up in some dive.

The
strangest part of all this shit though, is I’m surprisingly okay with it. I
think I’ve finally accepted this is who I am and this is the future I deserve
to have. I was foolish for believing I could be anything different. Now I just
need to convince Emily the same.

I
went home to change after work before heading out again. I wasn’t meeting Jaxon
tonight. Turns out he’s another interfering motherfucker too - spent all day on
my case. Said he’s worried about me. Jesus, you’d think he was my fucking wife!
Double standards, that’s what that shit is. It’s fine for him to go out and
have fun - snort the odd line, drink a few shots… but me? No. If
I
do it then it’s ‘cause I’m fucked in
the head.

It
didn’t seem like anyone was home as I made my way up the stairs. Relief washed
through me and I headed straight to the bathroom and slammed the door behind me.
I couldn’t face them today. We had a huge argument last night. I came home from
work to find Aunt Sarah and Emily having a cozy little chat with the corrupt
and conniving piece of pussy my father calls a wife.

I
don’t even know what it was about. The second my eyes caught sight of the pile
of papers and documents sprawled out across the coffee table I exploded. I’d
never felt so betrayed in all my life and so after giving all three of them a
piece of my fucked-up mind, I got the hell out of there. I didn’t come home
last night so I’ve not seen them since. Hell, for all I know I might not even
be ‘home’ now. Maybe that’s why no one’s here. Maybe I’ll get out the shower
and find Daddy cooking up a good old casserole for ‘family’ night.

After
stripping down and turning the shower onto the hottest setting I pried open the
loose tile in the corner while I waited for the room to fill with steam. I had
to be fast – making sure I took the hit before the mist had time to flood
the air. Otherwise it would leave more on the surface than in my system and
well, that’s just a damn waste.

I
leaned over the marble counter with one finger pressed against my right
nostril. I didn’t have a bill so it was trickier this way and I had to go back
for seconds.

“Dexter?”

Fuck.

I snapped
my neck towards the door which I didn’t hear opening over the stream of the
shower pelting against the tiles. Emily was standing there with a horrified
look on her face. Her tiny body was trembling and her eyes were red and swollen
– just like they always were lately.

“What
are you doing?” she asked shakily.

“Nothing,”
I answered sharply. “Just… leave.”

“I
said what are you doing!” she blared, striding towards me with her shaking hand
reaching out for the almost empty baggie next to the sink.

“I
said LEAVE!” I ordered, turning hastily to stop her reaching it. But she was
closer than I thought and as I swung my arm out in front of her, it smacked
into her chest – shoving her to the ground. “Shit, Emily!” I bent down to
help her but she wriggled away from me.

That
was the moment the last piece of my heart died inside my chest. The moment I
looked into her eyes and saw… fear.

“Fuck,
Emily I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… it was an accident. I’d never hurt you,
doll. You know I’d never hurt you. I’m so fucking sorry.” I was naked and
crouching next to her on the cold floor – trembling from both the effects
of the high… and the shame.

“Look
at yourself,” she spat, the fearful look in her eyes morphing into disgust.

“Emily
please…” I begged, reaching for her again.

“Don’t
touch me.” She clambered awkwardly to her feet but I couldn’t find the strength
or the courage to rise with her. Shaking her head and letting her tears fall
freely down her beaming cheeks, she added “what have you done to us, Dexter?”
Then she left, leaving me alone – huddled in a crumpled ball and crying
into my knees.

I
was wrong before.
That
was the moment
the last piece of me died.

~Emily~

“
You
were right,” I muttered
desolately when Sarah arrived home later that evening. She dropped the grocery
bags she was carrying and sighed heavily – knowingly. “I don’t know what
to do.”

“You can’t do anything, honey. Neither of us can. Dexter is the only one
that can help himself now.” Sarah joined me on the couch. She leaned back and
held her arm out for me to fall into. So I did. I leaned into her chest and
sobbed violently into her caramel mac. It was a strange feeling. Comforting.
Motherly? I wouldn’t really know. Nevertheless it felt like I belonged there
and so I let her hold me until the tears stopped wracking through my body.

When I finally pulled free, leaving damp splodges all over the front of
Sarah’s coat, she stroked my hair.

“Nobody would blame you for leaving you know,” she whispered without a
trace of judgement in her sweet voice.

“But I love him,” I declared – my timid voice cracking. “I miss
him.” I miss him so badly. I see him everyday but he’s so far away from me it
makes my heart throb brutally against the weakening walls of my chest. “I just
want to help him and I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe you should tell him you’re leaving,” she suggested.

“No,” I affirmed, shaking my head decidedly. “I
won’t
leave him.”

“He doesn’t need to know that. Maybe the thought of losing you is what
he needs.” I looked up at her warily. “I know it sounds harsh, but I’ve been in
this position with him before. He won’t change unless he’s given reason to. He
gets stuck. He loses sight of everything that’s important to him. Maybe he
needs reminding what’s at stake.”

“Maybe,” I sort of agreed, feeling overwhelmingly selfish for even
considering the idea. “Do you think I’m naïve?” Even though she was Dexter’s
aunt – his only family – I knew Sarah would be honest with me. “Do
you think I rushed into this?”

“No, honey. I think you were the first person in a long time who got to
see my Dexter. The
real
Dexter… And
you fell in love with him. Love is such a powerful emotion. It’s not all about
the hearts and flowers and bluebirds singing. It involves compassion, trust,
compromise… and often, pain. You can’t control those kinds of feelings and it
doesn’t make you weak or stupid. Being able to love so freely, so openly as you
have with Dexter, makes you one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.

“But being strong doesn’t mean you should give up on yourself either,
honey. I love that boy, you know I do, but he’s making you sick. You’ve lost
weight this past couple of weeks. You’re not sleeping, you’re barely leaving
the house… If you don’t take some time out for yourself then you’re not going
to be physically able to support him for much longer.”

“No. It feels so selfish to even
think
about me just now. He needs me.”

“But what good are you to him when you can’t even think straight?”
Instinctively, I looked at her with an offended expression distorting my face.
But it faded just as quickly. She was right. “As much as it hurts, you need to
remember that right now in that messed up head of his, he
doesn’t
need you. At least he doesn’t
think
he does. You can’t save someone that doesn’t want to be
saved, honey. Believe me, I’ve tried. The next step
has
to come from him. I know that sounds terribly heartless of me,
but-”

“Sarah I could
never
think
you’re heartless,” I interrupted, covering her hand with mine.
 
“You’re right. Those things are
difficult to hear… but I also know you’re the only person who’s experienced
this side of Dexter before. And I trust you implicitly. You’re like a mum to
me,” I declared. An earnest smile melted across her face and placing her other
hand on top of mine, the beginnings of a small tower, she squeezed it gently.

“I know it seems bizarre,” I continued, “given that I didn’t even know
you existed a couple of months ago… but you’ve shown more love to me in that
short time than my own mother ever has.”

“Oh, Emily,” she breathed, prizing our hands apart and opening her arms
for another hug.

I spent the next couple of hours telling Sarah all about my childhood. I
told her about Livvie, reliving the day I watched my baby sister drown all over
again. I told her about my mum and the fact she sees me as a hindrance –
an inconvenience who by needing to be clothed and fed, stole some of the
precious time she’d have rather spent impressing her posh friends. We talked
about my dad, and together decided that my parent’s marriage has possibly
lasted all this time more out of convenience than love.

Naturally our conversation led to my friends and I told her all about
Rachel and Jared. I included Chris too, because it felt wrong to discuss him
with the same breath as my parents. Then… I started crying. Again. Like,
seriously
ugly,
wailing type of
crying.

“You need your friends, honey. Go home. Take some time out,” she
whispered into my hair as she continued to hold me close to her chest. My
throat was too tight to let words pass through so I simply shook my head.

“
You
haven’t got anyone else
either. It wouldn’t be fair to Dexter
or
you
if I left.” Can you see me wavering there? For the first time I didn’t spit an
outright no. Was I
actually
considering
leaving him? Leaving these two precious people who I loved with all my heart
behind so I could focus on
myself
?
“Christ I feel so selfish.”

“
Why
?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“Because I’m considering it,” I confessed, shame boring into my cheeks and
making them glow bright red.

“You’re
not
selfish,” she said
adamantly, pushing me gently off her chest so she could look at me. “Emily, I
know how much you love him. But right now? That just isn’t enough. Go home. Get
your head straight and let me look out for him.”

“But that right there is what I’m talking about. You’re struggling with
this as much as I am – maybe even more so. Yet
you
would never dream of giving up on him. But me…” I trailed off,
too abashed by my selfishness to continue.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t. I think of him as my son and as much as it’s
killing me to see him hurt himself like this, I have no choice but to watch
over him. But I’m older and stronger than you, honey. I’ve dealt with this
situation before and as callous as it sounds, I’ve developed a certain hardness
to it. That doesn’t mean I don’t cry myself to sleep with worry every night, it
means when he’s spouting hurtful things to me… I can tune out. I know that’s
not really my boy.

“I’ve coped for a
long
time on
my own. It’s been so long since I had other family or friends to help me
through, I don’t
need
anyone else
anymore. You
do
, Emily. And it
doesn’t make you weak to need support from your friends. Besides, you’re not
giving up on him. You’re going away to get some space and make yourself
stronger and healthier so you’ll be in a better position to hold him up when he
eventually finds the courage to fall on you.”

I was more than just considering it by this point. In fact, I had almost
made up my mind.

“He’ll hate me.”

“Honey, he hasn’t got room to hate anyone else just now. He’s got that
emotion all used up on himself.”

“He’ll think I’ve let him down. That I don’t care. What if… what if I go
and he doesn’t want me back? It would destroy me.”

“Emily…” She said my name almost sternly. “You need to remember the
Dexter you fell in love with.”

“You’re saying it like he’s dead!” I snapped unintentionally, followed
by an apologetic frown.

“No, honey. I’m saying it like he’s not here… because right now, he
isn’t. What I’m trying to say is, imagine telling ‘clean Dexter’ how you’re
feeling right now. Picture yourself telling him how selfish you feel - how much
you’re struggling… how much you’re
hurting
.
What do you think he would say to you?”

My heart slipped down into my stomach remembering ‘that’ Dexter. God I
miss him.

“He’d tell me never to forget that he loves me.” Remembering the exact
words he once said to me made a silent and lonely tear trickle down my cheek.
“I know what I have to do.”

“Come on, honey, I’ll help you get things arranged.”

So that was it. I was going home. I was leaving the man I loved more
than life itself… leaving him to suffer without me – to destroy himself.

And I hated myself for it.

**********

“I’ve arranged your flight for tomorrow night,” Sarah announced while I
was packing up my things. I still couldn’t believe I was going through with
this.

“That’s too soon. I need to see him. He might not come home tonight and
I can’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“Emily… maybe it’s best if you
don’t
see him.”

“No,” I said resolutely. “I
have
to
see him, Sarah.” I wouldn’t be persuaded otherwise. I would
not
take the cowards way out and leave
without an explanation.

“Well I can always reschedule the flight if he doesn’t show before lunch
tomorrow. You’ll need to leave for the airport not long after.”

“Won’t that cost extra money?” I argued, feeling guilty enough that she
was already paying for my ticket.

“Don’t concern yourself with that, honey. I need you to do whatever is
best for you, okay?”

“Thank you, Sarah. For everything.”

**********

It was noon on the day of my flight back to the UK and I hadn’t seen
Dexter since the incident in the bathroom. I had an hour before my taxi was due
to arrive and if Dexter didn’t come home before then, I would have to rearrange
my plans. I decided I wouldn’t text anyone back home until I knew for sure what
was happening. I also hadn’t decided who exactly I was going to contact.

I know it should be Rachel – she’s my best friend and has
supported me through everything. But I’m just not sure if I can face London
again yet. The ground floor flat Rachel and I share is so near to Dexter’s
apartment. I would have to walk or drive past it every day to get to university
or even Tesco. Plus, when I think about our couch, the bar stools in our
kitchen, the sheets on my bed… Dexter is there – on all of them.

No. I can’t face seeing those things without him. So yes, I know it’s
selfish and gutless, but I will text Chris from the airport.

“He’s here, Emily,” Sarah said dolefully, peering her head around the
kitchen door while I was making up some sandwiches for my journey. Immediately
I turned to follow her into the living room but she put one hand on my
shoulder, the heavy bangles she always wore jangling against her wrist as she
did, and stopped me. “Don’t expect a rational conversation with him. He’s
completely out of it.”

Forcing the obtrusive lumps of guilt and nerves down my throat, I nodded
weakly.

It seemed Dexter had come straight home and collapsed onto the couch. He
was unrecognisable. He hadn’t shaved in days, his hair was ruffled far beyond
the point of intentional style and his face was thinning to the point of being
almost gaunt. The edges of his nose were red and bordering on painful looking
and his eyes… they were empty. Lifeless. He glanced up at me briefly, his
expression vacant – void of all emotion. Then he rolled onto his side and
fell instantaneously to sleep.

“It’ll wear off soon,” Sarah said, noticing my concern. I couldn’t
exactly talk to him in this state and I was still adamant I wouldn’t leave
without doing so. “Give him half an hour to sleep the latest hit off and you
stand a chance of getting some sense out of him.” Nodding, I reluctantly turned
back to the kitchen to finish making up my sandwiches.

Dexter stirred around forty minutes later, just like Sarah said. I was
both relieved and saddened that she knew exactly what to expect of him when he
was like this. I couldn’t sit in the living room, watching him fade away from
me, so I busied myself in the kitchen – wiping the sides down and mopping
the floor.

“What are these?” I heard Dexter say, presumably to Sarah. My heart
quickened at the sound of his voice and I warily made my way to join them.

I walked over to him slowly, cautiously… fighting against the urge to
cry. Then I cupped his rough, unshaven face in my hands and stared into his
haunted blue eyes.

“You’re boiling,” I noted, possibly inconsequentially.

“I’m um, running a bit of a fever. I’ll be fine.”

“Stop it, Dexter. You haven’t got a fever… you’re coming down, that’s
all.” Flashing Sarah a revolted glare he turned his focus back to me. In that
moment a horn sounded outside. My taxi. We all looked towards the noise and
Dexter’s breathing hitched.

“Your bags. Why are they here? What’s going on, doll?” I moved my now
trembling hands from his face and placed them on his firm chest, lightly
fisting the white fabric of his cowl-neck jumper.