Page 177

YOU MEAN THE WORLD TO ME

Lizzie

NOVEMBER 14, 2003

L IFELESS, WITH THE EXCEPTION OF A BEATING HEART , I STOOD ON HIS FRONT PORCH and rang the doorbell again. I knew Claire and Sinead wouldn’t be at home. They went to mass on Sunday, but Hugh usually spent the morning studying.

I knew I had permission to go inside, but it didn’t feel right to intrude on him.

Not after what I’d put him through.

Hold it together, Lizzie .

It might not be as bad as you think .

The moment the front door swung inward and I was greeted by the sight of Hugh, I knew I was lying to myself.

It wasn’t as bad as I thought.

It was so much worse.

Hugh folded his arms across his chest, clearly waiting for me to go first.

“I’m so sorry” was all I could come up with.

“For what exactly?”

“Everything.” Nervous, I plucked at my sleeves. “I didn’t mean any of that.”

“No,” he agreed with a nod. “ You didn’t mean any of that, but this version of you sure as shit did.”

“I’m fine again, Hugh,” I croaked out, willing him to hear me. “I’m thinking clearly.”

Stepping closer, he reached for my chin and angled my face up to his. His eyes studied mine for a long beat before he released me and shook his head. “Do you honestly think, after all these years, that I can’t tell when you’re off balance?”

“But I feel steady,” I tried to tell him, feeling panicked. “Please, I swear I’m okay.”

“Your pupils are so dilated, there’s no blue in them, Liz.” He folded his arms again. “Are you back on your meds yet?”

I started to nod, but the don’t bullshit me look on his face had me admitting the truth. “Not yet.”

“Then we have nothing to talk about.” Unfolding his arms, he reached for the door.

“Can we please go inside and talk?” I begged, feeling the tears sting my eyes.

Pain flickered in his eyes, and he released a frustrated growl before storming away and leaving the door open behind him.

Trailing after him, I continued to plead. “Hugh, I am so, so sorry.”

“You already said that.” Stepping around me, he walked into the lounge, and I quickly followed him, afraid to let him out of my sight in case he changed his mind about seeing me and bolted.

Flopping down on the couch, he stretched out and reached for the remote.

Shivering, I sat on the armchair opposite him. “Are we going to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” He didn’t look at me when he spoke, eyes trained on the television mounted over the fireplace instead. “Did you come over to tell me how good Pierce fucks you? Because I’d rather you keep it to yourself.”

“Please let me explain.”

“No need.” He flicked through channels. “I already know what happened.”

“Hugh, I was drinking.”

“So was I, but I somehow managed to not cheat on you,” he replied breezily. “Funny that.”

“I didn’t cheat on you.”

“You let another lad put his dick inside you, Liz. If that’s not cheating in your book, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

“No, I mean I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Oh.” He feigned surprise. “You didn’t do it on purpose. Why didn’t you say that sooner? That changes everything.” Retraining his attention to the television, he continued to rant. “That makes the mental image of my teammate fucking you like a dog so much easier to swallow. I can easily forget the image of him fisting your hair while he was pounding his dick into your pussy.”

“Hugh, don’t…” I choked out, covering my mouth with my hand.

“I’m sorry. Am I not being graphic enough?” He threw the remote at the wall. “Jesus, I’m sorry, Liz. I’d love to tell you more, but I only had a ten-second sneak peak of the party.”

“Hugh—”

“In my room, Liz!” Chest heaving, he stormed out. “In my fucking bed!”

“I know, I know, I’m so fucking sorry!” Falling off the armchair in my rush to follow him, I chased him up the stairs and into his room, where he was stripping his bed. “What are you doing?”

“Do you want this?” he asked, dragging the mattress off its base. “Because I sure as shit don’t.”

With that, he stormed past me, mattress in hand, and flung it down the staircase.

“Sorry if it holds any sentimental significance to you,” he sneered over his shoulder as he stomped down the steps and regathered the mattress at the bottom. “I know a girl’s first time is special.”

“Hugh, please!”

Yanking the front door open, he proceeded to stalk outside and unceremoniously dump the mattress on the front lawn.

Wiping his hands off, he turned on his heels and stomped back inside.

Again, I trailed after him, knowing that I deserved every second of this torture.

“Tell me what to do,” I begged, following him back upstairs to his bedroom. “Please, Hugh, just tell me how to fix this.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Liz. Can you go back in time and un-fuck him? Can you do that?”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Two things.” He seethed, chest heaving, as his voice cracked. “I’ve only ever asked you to do two goddamn things, and you couldn’t do either one.”

“I know, I know,” I sobbed, watching him sink to the floor and then recoil from my touch when I moved to go to him. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“I do,” he roared back at me. “You’re bipolar and not taking your goddamn medication.”

“I’m sorry —”

“I can handle the mood swings. I can handle the depression. Hell, I can even handle the mania. And the crazy fucking eyes. And the way I never know if you’re going to try to fuck me or hurt me. But I can’t handle the cheating.”

“I would never hurt you.”

“Liar,” he roared, tears streaking his cheeks, as he pulled at his hair in utter distress. “Look at me, baby! Take a good fucking look!”

“I’ll do anything to fix this,” I cried, sinking to my knees beside him. “I’ll go back on my meds. I’ll go to counselling. I’ll do anything, Hugh, anything!”

“It’s too late.”

“No, no, no, it’s not,” I tried to plead, feeling frantic now. “It’s not too late, baby.”

“How the fuck is it not too late, Liz?” He dropped his head in his hands. “You’ve been fucking him ever since that night.” A pained cry tore from his chest. “Whatever hope we had of fixing it before is dead and buried now.”

“Yes, we can, we can, Hugh,” I cried, touching his arm. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”

“What did you think was going to happen, Liz!” he strangled out, hooking his arms around his knees. “That we could brush it all under the carpet?”

“We can try!”

“No.” He shook his head again. “We can’t because you publicly shit on us, Liz.”

“I didn’t mean to do any of this!”

“I know, I know,” he groaned, sounding truly conflicted. “I know you’re sick. I know you don’t mean any of this, but it’s still real for me. Because I’m here, Liz. I’m the collateral fucking damage.”

“Hugh…”

“I don’t have a bubble to fall into, baby. My feelings are real and I don’t have a button to switch it off like you.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I tried to absorb his words. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I didn’t leave you, Liz,” he croaked, lifting his head to look at me. “You left me.”

His brown eyes were trained on mine, and I could see everything he was feeling in this moment. I couldn’t bear to see the hurt in his eyes, but somehow, I forced myself to do just that.

Because I had to look.

I had to see what I had done to this boy.

The boy I loved with every beat of my heart.

Regret churned inside of me and instantly, I began to doubt myself.

What the hell was I doing?

I couldn’t hurt him like this.

You already hurt him , a voice in my head hissed, you broke him .

The only person who ever truly loved you, warts and all .

You crushed him .

“It didn’t mean anything,” I tried to tell him, but I felt so fucking dirty and undeserving. “I don’t know why I did it.” Pushing his legs apart, I scrambled between them, clutching his big body tightly. “You mean the world to me.”

Wrapping my arms around his narrow hips, I pressed my face to his stomach, inhaling the smell of him, needing to feel his skin on mine. Needing to keep this boy in my life.

But it was too late for that.

His touch told me that.

With his shoulders limp and his head bowed, he battled with his hand until he finally allowed it to rest on the back of my head. It was more than I deserved in this moment.

I had broken him; this bright, beautiful, brave soul had been reduced to broken pieces.

They were scattered all over his bedroom floor.

He couldn’t take me back, not even if he wanted to.

Because his pride would never allow for it.

I wanted to clean up my image and not be a humiliation to him every damn day, but I was still me. I couldn’t erase my past. I was used up and dirty. I always had been. There was no way of fixing that. There was no magic spell to eradicate my memories.

Knowing that I’d given my body to a boy I couldn’t bear to remember made me want to hold my breath forever.

It made me want to peel the skin from my bones.

Shame .

That was all I was left with.