I should move but I can’t bring myself to do it. My hands won’t move to the ignition and gear stick. If I leave I can’t come back. This house will no longer be mine. The last few memories I have of Caleb will be just that… memories. I won’t be able to walk into the hall and recall the time he put his bare foot straight onto the paint tray by mistake when we were decorating the hall. He painted the wall with his foot, making me laugh so hard I ended up choking on my own saliva.
I won’t be able to lie on the bed and remember him resting his head on my flat stomach and promising me and our baby an eternity of love and loyalty.
I won’t be able to look in the bathroom and recall the time he had a bad curry and ended up sitting there all day. Seriously. I brought him his laptop and put on YouTube so he could watch funny videos of cats. Every time he laughed he’d release a noise from his nether regions so disturbing it sounded almost demonic. It was so funny.
Sob.
My life is over.
It’s over and I’m scared.
There’s a knock on the window. Great. Who wants to bother me now?
What the fuck?
I wipe my eyes and slowly roll it down. “Nathan?”
“Gwen,” he says in a clipped tone.
My hands tremble on the steering wheel. Why is he here? “Y… yes?”
“Why aren’t you inside? You shouldn’t be sat out here crying,” he bites out, his jaw clenched.
It hurts to look at him. He looks like an older, sterner version of Caleb but he’s just as handsome. His eyes are the same shape and colour, his hair too, although Nathan’s jaw is wider and stronger and his cheekbones more pronounced. He also doesn’t have a hint of stubble, not like Caleb used to fashion on a daily basis because he couldn’t be arsed to shave.
I miss that stubble.
“We don’t live there anymore,” I murmur.
He sighs. “I can’t hear you if you don’t speak properly.” What an arsehole.
“I don’t live there anymore, okay?” I say, louder this time, and the words make me cry again.
“So maybe you should go to where you do live,” he snaps.
Why is he here? “You’re looking at it.”
“What?”
“Are you deaf? I said you’re looking at it! This is everything I have left.”
His harsh eyes soften slightly, his face seeming to slacken. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Oh.” Then I sigh, sick of his presence. He’s too tall and it has to be hurting his back bending over like that. “Why are you here, Nathan?”
He looks at the house, to the back of my car and then to me. “I don’t know.”
“Right. Well then maybe you should leave.”
“Yeah,” he agrees and stands. I watch him via the wing mirror returning to his large and flashy black car that’s parked behind my crappy metal box on wheels. I didn’t see it pull up but I’m seeing it now. It’s huge. He climbs in and two seconds later he pulls away, leaving me once again to my own thoughts.
Was he wearing a suit? He was wearing a suit.
Who wears a suit during a casual visit?
Caleb would rip the shit out of him for it, I have no doubt about that. But Caleb isn’t here and he isn’t coming back.
I turn on the ignition, giving one last lingering look at the house that was mine. Then, with tear filled eyes, I head to work.
My boss lets me park directly outside of the doors, due to my car being full of my things, and he winces when he sees me. “Go into the back, wash your face, have a few minutes and come back out.”
I don’t argue with him. I need it as much as he thinks I do. Probably even more.
My stomach aches as I work, and my ankles are swollen but I’m determined to keep going. I keep getting large tips because people see my stomach and how young I am and take pity on me. Right now I’ll take that pity. Their pity is what’s keeping me fed.
The ones who know about my circumstances don’t make eye contact with me. I’m unsure why this is. Maybe it’s a guilt thing because they have a house and a support unit. Knowing I don’t have either probably makes them feel bad to be in my presence. These people give me tips too.