The Nature of Cruelty (36 page)

Jesus. I mean, I have a month and a half left of school, and I’m quitting. I beat my English teacher to a pulp. It feels like I can’t do anything right, and Lana is a prime example of that. I’ve been wronging her ever since the first day we met.

Thoughts wash over her face, and then I see her wince when I pull away, as though anticipating a blow. Yeah, I can’t do this. I can’t declare myself, because she’d never believe the truth anyway.

“Go home,” I whisper, looking at her sadly. “I don’t want you at my party anymore.”

Tears instantly fill her eyes as she dashes away from me, pulling her phone from her pocket and dialling for her mum to come and collect her.

I stare back at the building, listening to the noise of the teenagers inside, but I have no desire to rejoin them. Instead, I glance over at the wide stretch of the GAA pitch before me, the overhead lights shining softly upon the grass. I make a quick trip back inside, slip behind the bar when nobody’s watching, grab a bottle of vodka, and then slip back out.

Lana’s already gone.

In the centre of the pitch I lie down, knocking back the vodka and staring up at the stars.

I’m leaving for London with Dad in two days’ time, leaving the girl I love behind so that she can finally be free of me.

Who’d have thought the cruellest boy in the world could be so self-sacrificing?

Part Five

Cruelty Is a Cycle

Eighteen

T
he first thing I notice is that I’m not in my own bed. The second is that my head hurts like crazy. And the third is how Robert’s sitting tensely in a hospital chair, gazing at me with eyes full of fear.

When he sees that I’m awake, he jumps up and pulls his chair to the edge of the bed. I feel kind of zoned out as I glance around. I’ve been in a lot of hospitals in my life, but this one bears only the tiniest of resemblances to them.

“This is a very nice room,” I say, my voice coming out all dry. What a strange, mundane thing to be thinking about after such an ordeal.

Robert takes my hand in his. “It’s a private hospital. Lana, baby, do you remember what happened to you?”

“Yeah, I fainted,” I whisper, oddly matter-of-fact.

“You didn’t just faint, you went into severe hypoglycaemic shock. You’ve been in a diabetic coma since yesterday.” He stops, tugging at a strand of hair. “Jesus, I mean, I thought you were going to die.”

A diabetic coma. Shit. Breath gushes from me in alarm. It’s one of the things I’ve always feared, one of the things I knew could happen if I didn’t take good care of myself. When you’ve got an illness like mine, there are so many dangers, so many side effects and adverse reactions. Still, I never saw this coming, had become far too complacent. I guess it was the stress of Kara breaking into the house that was the final catalyst.

Kara.

Fuck.

Panicking, I try to sit up, but Robert eases me back down.

“Hey, beautiful, relax. You need to rest,” he says, stroking my hair.

“But Kara — she got away with the camera.”

“She didn’t. I got it back when I went to her place and returned the sex tape. It’s the only time I left your side since you were admitted here yesterday.”

A relieved breath escapes me. “Oh, thank God.”

“We had a long chat, and she seems to have calmed down a good deal. She told me that when Gary found out I’d taken the DVD, he broke up with her. She’s been in a state ever since. When I was there, her mother Eleanor showed up to bring her back to live at home for a while. She found out about Kara’s eating disorder and is making her go to a clinic for treatment.”

“Really? Well, that will be good for her. She’ll destroy her body if she continues making herself sick.”

Robert pulls at his already mussed-up hair. “I’m so sorry about what she did. I never expected her to go that far. It won’t happen again. I made a copy of her DVD before I returned the original, so if she tries anything else I’ll always have something to use against her.”

His words sink in, and anger pulses through my veins. “Robert, Jesus Christ. Are you stupid? You shouldn’t have done that.” I want to say more, but weakness overcomes me.

“Baby, I have to protect you from her.”

Trying to stay calm, because I know stressing out will only function to bring on another episode, I say to him, “Don’t you see? You’re just doing the same shit all over again. I told you before that this would come back to haunt you, and it will again. I can’t…” I lose my voice just as a nurse comes into the room.

“Ah, you’re awake. How are you feeling, honey?” She looks at me with sympathetic eyes.

Not wanting to be around Robert right now, I respond, “My head is sore and I’m really tired. Could you tell my friend here that I’d like to be left alone for a while?”

“What? No way. I’m not leaving,” Robert exclaims loudly.

“Look, you should allow her some time to rest. She’s been through an ordeal,” the nurse tells him in a calm voice, ushering him up from his seat.

“This is bullshit, Lana. We need to talk.”

“Language like that won’t be tolerated, sir,” says the nurse, more sternly now.

“I’m paying for this fucking room, so I’ll use whatever kind of language I like.”

“I have to insist that you leave. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to have you removed from the building.”

Robert stares at me, his expression agonised, but I can’t find it in myself to feel sorry for him. Not after what he just told me. How can he seriously believe that keeping a copy of Kara’s sex tape after she’d broken into his house like a lunatic is a good idea? Finally, his face loses some of its hardness and his posture slumps as he slowly opens the door and leaves the room.

An hour or so later a doctor comes to talk to me, reiterating what Robert already told me, that I went into a diabetic coma after suffering from hypoglycaemic shock. We talk for a while, and he arranges an aftercare regime for me.

I get to leave the following evening. When I’m walking through the lobby, thumbing through my phone to call Sasha, I notice that she and Robert are already there, waiting on me. Robert pulls me into a tender hug and apologises for his behaviour yesterday, kissing me all over and telling me how panicked he was for me. I remain stiff, not knowing how to handle him.

Sasha squeezes my hand, a solitary tear running down her cheek, portraying the fear she’d felt when I’d been unconscious. She says Robert told her all about the sex tape debacle, giving her brother evil looks all the while. He at least appears a touch shame-faced.

I think about the factors that caused me to go into shock, and the little things that have been accumulating over the last few weeks. Like how I never get as much sleep when Robert’s in my bed, or how I’m so wrapped up in him that I don’t give enough care or time to my health or my sugar levels, or anything else for that matter.

I’ve said it so many times before, but he makes me forget myself, and it’s not all his fault. It’s not his fault I’m so in love with him that it makes me careless. That all I can think about is being with him, to hell with important stuff that could mean the difference between life and death.

Worst-case scenario, I could have died yesterday. My short life could have come to an abrupt end between one second and the next.

As Robert’s helping me inside the car and buckling in my seatbelt, I come to the stark realisation that even though he makes me feel amazing, he’s also entirely detrimental to my health. That even though I said people sometimes have to follow their emotions where they want to go, for me that’s not really an option. I understand that now.

And then, quite tragically, I know that I have to break my own heart if I want to survive.

And his, too.

Robert is and always has been a tornado, swooping into my life, sometimes making it better, but most of the time making it worse.

Oh, God, am I thinking clearly? I’m too exhausted to tell. All I know is that in this moment my fear of dying young far outweighs my fear of being sad and alone. I’ve been in a coma at only twenty-two years of age, and that’s certainly not normal.

I need to talk to my Gran. She’s the only person I know who’s wise enough to give me advice and who can remain impartial, unlike my mother.

Robert is all quiet and loving when we get back to the house. He carries me up the stairs to bed and a few minutes later returns to my room, presenting me with a DVD broken in half, the copy he’d made.

He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. By breaking the DVD he’s showing me that I was right, that keeping it
would
come back to haunt him at some stage. Still, doubts remain in my mind. He tucks me in, kisses me on the forehead, and leaves. I pick up my phone and dial my home number.

“Helloooo,” my sister Alison answers, sounding cheerful as ever.

“Hey, Ally, it’s Lana. Is Gran around?”

“Yep. She’s out in the garden. You want me to call her in?”

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

“’Kay, be right back.” She hesitates. “You don’t sound so good, sis. Is everything all right with you?”

I’ve already made my mind up that I’m not going to tell my family about the coma. It would only cause a big drama, and I have every intention of ensuring that it doesn’t happen again.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Now go get Gran.”

A minute or two later Gran’s voice comes on the line, the familiar cadence soothing me like nothing else ever could.

“Lana, honey, it’s so good to hear from you,” she says, sounding rested and full of health, despite being the ripe old age of seventy-two.

We make small talk, and then gradually I tell her about my time with Robert this summer and how we fell in love, how we were probably already in love with one another before any of this even began. She listens quietly, letting me get it all out.

The only parts I don’t talk about are the sex and the coma, deciding the sex is definitely too explicit for my grandmother’s old-fashioned ears and the coma could quite ironically send
her
into one.

“Well, there’s no doubting the two of you love each other,” says Gran, once I’ve finished talking.

“Yeah, but is it worth keeping a love that’s killing you in the process?” I ask.

“Honey, you’re being a tad melodramatic,” Gran chides me.

It’s so hard to get her to understand when I can’t tell her everything. “I’m not, Gran, believe me. When I’m with him it’s hard to breathe, let alone take care of my health.”

“Why don’t you explain it to him, then, let him know that if he doesn’t want you to become sick he needs to be just as involved in caring for you as you are yourself?”

Well, there is that, and I have no doubt that Robert would go out of his way to help me as best he could. The only issue is that it’s in his personality to be wild and unpredictable, and when I’m with him I’m inevitably going to be swept up in that.

“You’re right, Gran. Listen, I’m feeling tired, but thanks for letting me talk to you. It really helped.”

Hanging up, I rest my head on my pillow, close my eyes, and allow mental and physical exhaustion to take me over.

The next day Robert insists on staying home from work to be with me. The moment I wake up he comes into my room, retrieving my insulin case from my drawer and asking if I’ll show him how to use it so I don’t have to do it myself.

I brush him off, telling him I’m not an invalid just yet.

He looks at me like I’m overreacting, but doesn’t argue. Instead, he sits beside me, taking in every step of the procedure. Once I’m finished, I sit back against the pillows, my thoughts scrambling. Somehow, last night I came to a resolution, and it’s not going to be easy communicating that resolution to Robert.

“You’re amazing,” he says, marvelling at me. “Do you want some breakfast? I’ll make anything you like.”

“You don’t have to treat me like a newborn baby, Robert,” I snap at him unnecessarily. My own conscience is eating me up over what I’m about to do. On one level I feel extremely selfish, choosing my own welfare over his, but on another level I feel validated. I’m not built to live in Robert’s whirlwind, and I never have been.

His brow furrows as he reaches forward to rub my arm. “Lana, you’ve just been in a coma. I love you, and I want to take care of you.”

Swallowing hard and sucking back tears, I pull my arm out of his reach. “But that’s just the thing, Rob, you don’t take care of me. In fact, you do just the opposite.”

The look in his eyes makes my stomach twist. In their depths I see each piece of regret he feels for every wrong he’s done me over the years. Finally, he says, “Do you think I don’t feel guilty for what Kara did? For the fact that she did it because of me and that you were the one to get hurt? I told myself I’d never do anything to hurt you ever again, but I did anyway. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

I reach over and squeeze his wrist, unable to resist comforting him despite being the one causing the discomfort. “I’m not saying you did it purposefully. What I’m saying is that it can’t be helped that these things happen to the people in your life. You cause trouble and take risks — it’s in your nature. It’s also what makes you such an addictive person to be around, but more often than not it’s other people who bear the consequences of those risks. Being in this coma has made me realise that I’m far more fragile than I thought, and that I can’t afford the luxury of being with you.”

Robert runs both hands through his dark hair, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “What are you saying here, Lana?”

“I think you know what I’m saying,” I whisper.

“No, I fucking don’t. Don’t you dare think about taking this peace away from me. I’ve felt more whole this summer than I ever have before. You can’t just click your fingers and stop loving someone.”

“I’ll always love you, perhaps to my own detriment, but I can’t be with you anymore,” I say, my voice barely audible.

He grabs my chin, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them again. “I’m not letting you do this. I love you too much.”

“Robert, please.” My eyes fill up with liquid, and I feel a pang of pain in my chest. I gasp and push my hand to the spot, trying to rub away the ache.