Amelia is trying to act normally but the darkness in her eyes tells me that her brain is working overtime. I’ve asked her if she’s okay a few more times and all I’ve got was a short yes. I can’t convince her that there’s nothing to worry about if she shuts me out.
Now she is upstairs having a bath and I’m defrosting some beef stew even though I have no appetite. I wish she’d just tell me what’s going on in her head so I could show her she has nothing to worry about. She is my life; she is my love.
The microwave beeps, and I jab the button with irritation as if it's the kitchen gadget's fault. When I yank the pot out, the makeshift cover I plonked on top decides to make a run for it. Steam billows into my hand, triggering a reflex that makes me jerk back. The pot escapes my grip, meets the floor with a resounding crash, and sprays beef stew all over the place―including my trousers.
“Fuck!” I shout. Furball jumps and is about to run from the kitchen when he spots one of the pieces of meat on the floor.
“Oh my god what happened?” Amelia asks from behind me. She manages to grab Smutty before he can sprint through the sauce in search for more meat and spread the disaster even further. She drops him into the corridor and closes the kitchen door on him. His little head pops up in the glass panel and he starts caterwauling.
“I dropped the food,” I say like the bomb site needs an explanation.
“Wait, don’t move,” Amelia orders. There is beef sauce dripping from my trousers and I’m surrounded by a puddle of it. Amelia quietly starts mopping up our dinner and when she eventually gets to me she makes me take off my trousers.
“Did you burn yourself?” she asks as she gently touches my shins.
“No,” I grumble. I can see red spots where the stew-soaked trousers have heated up my skin but it’s not bad. Amelia takes my trousers to the utility room whilst I head upstairs to get clean clothes.
Smutty shoots pass me into the kitchen the minute I open the door and starts sniffing the floor, probably disappointed that he can’t snag more premium beef.
When I get to the bedroom I take a deep breath. I need to get her to open up to me. My muscles are tense from anxiety. I decide to take a quick shower and after trying to relax under the hot water, I get dressed and head back down with a renewed determination to get her to talk to me.
I’m about to follow the noise of Amelia tinkering in the kitchen when my eyes fall on her suitcase. It’s standing next to the door with the cat carrier.
“Amelia,” I call out with my heart racing.
“Are you okay?” she asks with concern when she sees me. No, I’m not okay.
“Are you going somewhere?” My voice sounds harsher than I meant it to and I notice her flinch.
“Ben, I… we haven’t been home in ages. I thought it would be a good time for me and Smutty to sleep at home tonight and check… the flat.” She avoids my eyes.
“There is nothing between me and Gina. Yes, we dated in the past, but we haven’t in a long time. I didn’t know she was coming over.” I cup her face and make her look at me.
“I know.” She sounds small and sad when she replies. “I just―I just need to check on my flat.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” I say, frustrated. She just shrugs. I wish she’d let me in. I feel so helpless. If she’s not willing to talk about it there is nothing I can do.
“Oh my god we’re just not staying here for one night. You won’t die,” she lashes out and I immediately see guilt on her face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Just give me a few days.”
“Don’t cut me out, Amelia. Please. Whatever is going on inside your head… or heart, I’ll give you time, but please find the strength to talk to me about it. Please, don’t throw this away over nothing,” I beg and gently pull her into my arms. She lets me and that makes me breathe a little easier.
“I promise,” she whispers against my chest.
“Okay.” I let go of her even though every fibre in my body tells me not to. It takes us ten minutes to corner Furball who clearly has no desire to leave my house, but eventually we manage to wrangle him into his carrier.
“Don’t forget your promise, Amelia,” I whisper before kissing her deeply. The thought that this could be the last kiss we share almost kills me.
27
This Is What It Feels Like
Amelia
When I stir from my dream my chest feels tight and it’s difficult to breathe.
When I made it home on Friday, Smutty punished me with an hour of crying and scraping on the front door, making it abundantly clear that he wanted to be with Ben. Once he had calmed down it took me ages to fall asleep.
Yesterday I spent all day in bed feeling sorry for myself.
My brain has been racing with random thoughts and questions. Was it all an illusion? I know they both said there’s nothing between them and I believe them. But if that's the woman he dated before me, how can he now date me?
She was a fucking knock out. I mean, if I were into women I would date her. Just enough curves, covered by tiny pieces of underwear to look like every teenage boy’s wet dream. With silky long hair, perfect facial features, big green eyes and pillowing lips. I can’t compete with that.
I roll from bed and slide into my fluffy slippers. A quick look at my phone tells me it’s already eleven o’clock and I’m surprised that Smutty hasn’t come for cuddles yet. I find him on the window seat in the living room, lying on his belly and looking out the window completely ignoring me. Apparently he’s still pissed with me.
His food bowl is empty but he doesn’t react when I shake some dry food in it.
“Well fuck you then!” I shout and grab a banana, but I don’t really feel like food either. I open the music app on my phone and press play on one of my playlists. I grab some rubber gloves and cleaning material. Isn’t cleaning what they do in movies to help get over… heartbreak?
I start scraping the oven and frankly by the time I’m finished I feel neither better nor less sad. That’s bullshit.
I fish my headphones from my handbag and place one in each ear. They automatically connect to my phone’s Bluetooth and the music which had been quietly playing in the background to avoid disturbing my neighbours is now blaring down my ear canals. It’s so loud it actually drowns out my thoughts.
This is What It Feels Like comes on. I bloody love this song and it fits the mood perfectly. I start moving my body and dance to the living room. Smutty glares at me and jumps of the window seat, heading upstairs.
Whatever!
I close my eyes and sway from side to side. I’m not a fan of dancing in public unless it’s mild shuffling like we did at the wedding. At home, though, I can go wild. Nobody cares if my movements are uncoordinated and completely out of rhythm.
