Reverb (24 page)

Chapter Thirty-Six

BRYN

Why doesn't Avery understand?

Since the argument last week, I’ve attempted to have a rational conversation with Avery, but the distrust in her voice grows each time I call. Now she’s unleashed her insecurity, the unwarranted accusations fly about me and Hannah every time we talk and push me away.

Six months. I haven’t had a relationship last that long for years. I’d convinced myself me and Avery were right for each other; that we could take on the world. No, not that we could take on the world, but that we’d created our own. Yeah, Hannah dropped a nuclear bomb in the middle of our peaceful existence, but I’m shocked that me and Avery aren’t working through this.

Avery doesn’t trust me and what is a relationship without trust?

I end the latest, short and hostile call, and look out across the tidy pavers in Hannah's garden, beneath the orange streaked evening sky. Frangipanis border the ordered space, the fragrance cloying the air, and the scent reminds me of my house in the States.

Avery’s withdrawing. We have little to say to each other. If I talk about Hannah and Connor, she gets defensive and I'm angry she doesn't trust me. Tonight she accused me of having nothing left for her and when I told her right now, I have little outside of what I have for Connor, she couldn't accept it.

Each conversation we have, the creeping feeling we’re over grows.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

BRYN

Connor and Hannah had a hospital appointment today and a visit to her mum’s place on the way back. Occasionally, I go to the hospital too and sit in the waiting area while they speak to the specialist. My need to avoid Jane left me alone with my jumbled thoughts today.

The front door clicks open and closed, Hannah and Connor’s voices travelling down the hallway. Connor appears, pale faced with dark circles beneath his eyes. He sleeps more than when I first arrived and despite Hannah’s denials, I know he’s getting worse. If he doesn’t get a donor, he’ll need to go back to hospital. All the more reason for me to spend time with my son.

“Hey,” I say with a smile, but when I see Hannah’s expression, I have to force the smile to stay. She hasn’t looked this haunted since the day of her confession in London.

Connor walks over and sits on the chair opposite me, putting his iPad on the table.

“How are you feeling?” I ask him.

He shrugs. “I’m okay.”

Hannah walks past, not looking at me.

“We still going to the movies this weekend?” I ask. “What did you want to see?”

“I don’t mind.”

“Perfect! I heard there’s a new Disney princess movie.”

He meets my grin with pursed lips. “Very funny.”

“Well, I like princesses.”

“No, you don’t!”

I laugh and take a drink from my beer.

“Don’t tease, Bryn,” says Hannah, coming back into the room with a glass of milk.

“He knows I’m kidding, right?” I wink at Connor.

Connor takes his milk and drinks. “I want to see your rock band.”

His words push in a painful reminder of the Bryn I left behind. “Sure, one day. The guys are in England and America now, so we aren’t playing for a while.”

“Can I go to England?”

“I’ll take you there sometime. I have a house in the States too; you can come and stay.”

Hannah inhales sharply and when I look up at her, the look she gives me is dark. Subject change obviously needed. I glance at the clock on the wall. “Time for a game of FIFA before bed? You kicked my backside yesterday.”

Connor giggles and looks to his mum.

“Sure, go get ready for bed first though,” she says.

My relationship with Connor is easier than I imagined it would be, the awkwardness blown away within days. The more involved I get in his everyday life, the happier he is. When he’s facing pain and unhappiness in the next few months, I’m prepared to make up for the lost years and do anything that helps keep the smile on his brave face. If that’s being here, I’ll do that.

“Have you eaten?” asks Hannah.

“Liquid meal.” I hold up the bottle.

She shakes her head with a small smile, and as Hannah walks away, I slump back in the chair, frightened by how easily I’ve slipped into their family life. Connor mentioned my Blue Phoenix world and I can’t picture it currently. England is more than thousands of miles away; it’s a lifetime away. Which life is reality?

A week since we last spoke, and I suspect Avery has made my decision for me. I thought this would end with the mother of all arguments, a bigger version than the night she was drunk, but it doesn’t. We miss calls, don’t return messages, and when we do speak, the calls become shorter and more distant. Now Avery doesn’t answer at all. I’m not giving her the answers she needs.

Hannah appears ten minutes later with another cold beer and glass of wine, and then joins me without speaking.

The glass chinks against the table as Hannah sets her glass down and passes me the beer.

“Where’s Connor?” I ask.

“He fell asleep.”

Frowning, I finish the beer and pick up a second bottle. “Is he okay?” Hannah looks at me as if I’m crazy. “Okay, stupid question.”

Pointing at my phone, Hannah asks, “Was she not home again when you called? Normally you’re outside talking to her at this time.”

“Avery?” I don’t want to talk to Hannah about this. “It’s complicated.”

“See things from her point of view, Bryn.”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard some of your conversations recently. I wasn't eavesdropping, you were loud.”

I look away and drink my beer. “I'll be quieter next time.”
If she ever speaks to me again.

“You need to tell everybody what you intend to do. Connor thinks you're here permanently.”

My chest tightens at the conversation I didn't want to face. “I know. I can be here now and then later we can decide?”

“You're being unfair to Avery.” She pauses. “And me.”

“To you?”

Hannah twists the wine glass on the table. “I'm as confused as you are about everything. I'm in a weird dream. Sometimes I feel as if the last eight years have been a weird dream.”

I shift around to face her. In my eyes, she's the Hannah from years ago but carrying the weight of the Hannah who exists today.

“Why did you hide Connor from me for so long?”

“I told you, I hid him from myself too, Bryn.” She sips her wine. “I wasn't very mature, even for a sixteen-year-old, and I was terrified. When Mum took over, it was easier to switch off and pretend he was my brother.” She gulps her wine then twists the glass in her hands. “Even when I met you again, I had the same denial. In my head, the two of you weren't connected. You were the Bryn I left in Wales, not the father of a baby I didn't want. I told you this before; please don’t make me go through this again.”

“I’m glad you didn't…” I can’t say the words. “You know.”

She shakes her head. “It was too late even if I’d wanted to have a termination. I denied it was happening, and it was six months before my parents found out. Even then I denied it was happening, locked in my lies that the baby wasn’t real.” Her voice is low, and she stares at the floor. “I'm a bad person, Bryn,” she whispers. “I didn't love him. I didn't want him.”

“But now, look at you and him now. You obviously do. You’re doing everything you can. The love you have for Connor is unmistakable.” A tear escapes Hannah's eye and I shift closer in alarm. “It's the past, Hannah. People will understand why you felt like that.”

“Sometimes I think his illness is somebody punishing me, taking him away now I love him.”

“You know that's not true,” I say softly and place my hand over hers.

She jerks at my touch and I curl my fingers around Hannah’s hand, wishing I could rewind and help her through everything she's struggled with in the last eight years. Would I have made a difference?

“I'm sorry,” she says, looking up, eyes shining with tears. “I denied you each other.”

“We found each other now.” I squeeze her hand. “I'm lying if I say I understand or I’m okay with the decisions you made, but we need to focus on Connor now.”

Hannah pulls her hand away and wipes her face with the back of her hands as she looks away. Her honey blonde hair shines in the light coming from the spotlights above, and as I look at her, I fight the words inside. I almost said focus on
us
. I could make this better by giving Connor and Hannah what they need.

But the thought churns my insides as I grasp onto the place I built with Avery, wishing to hell I knew the right thing to do.

Tegan said follow my heart, but when my heart doesn't know which direction to go in, what do I do?

“Do you need anything, Hannah?” I ask.

“Another glass of wine,” she replies with a small laugh.

Before I can respond that’s not what I meant, she disappears into the kitchen. I follow, the now familiar scent of the orange cleaning spray she continuously uses reaching me. Hannah stands by the kitchen counter, pouring wine. When she looks up, in her eyes I see the loss of the day we parted, the confused girl whose life is out of her control, fighting the tears as her trembling fingers circle the bottle.

“You were at the hospital a long time today,” I say.

Her face pales. “They might have a donor.”

“That’s fantastic news!” I say, relief surging into the situation,

“It means he’s going to start chemo in preparation. He’ll get really sick again.” She takes a shaky breath. “It’s horrible, Bryn. Last time…” Hannah can’t finish her words, holds her hand over her mouth as her eyes fill with tears.

“Hannah.” I cross and touch her face, the way I've resisted for the last few weeks. Her cheek is hot and wet from the tears, and she looks back with the confusion.

“Don't, Bryn.”

“Tell me what to do. Tell me how I can fix this.”

“You can't.”

“Then I can stay. I can be here for you.”

“But how long for?” She takes my hand from her cheek so I place my other on her instead.

“However long you both want me.”

“You're not mine to take,” she whispers.

This is the answer. Hannah and Connor need me. “I could be. If you want me.”

Her eyes widen. “No, I'm not asking that of you. Look at what I've done, how I've treated you.”

“I want to be here for you and Connor. I’m fucking confused but a part of me knows this is right.” Perhaps Avery is right. I’m unable to let go because this is where I should be.

“Bryn, no.”

“Sometimes, I think this is the world’s way of saying we belong,” I whisper.

In the moment, we grasp at the light in the darkness around, and I follow the need to comfort Hannah. We’ve avoided touching each other, despite wanting to hug her when I see her struggling, but her body language clearly said no. This close, I see her more clearly than I have for months and I’m looking into the eyes of the woman I wanted last year. I drop my gaze to her mouth. If this feels natural, then this is the direction I need to take.

Hesitantly, I place my lips on Hannah's. For a moment, she doesn't respond then she circles her hands around my neck and pushes her mouth against mine.

What the fuck am I doing?

The familiarity of Hannah’s lips has gone, the scent of her hair, and feel of her skin, alien.

She isn't Avery.

Our mouths only meet for a second; I pull her hands away and step back, disgusted with and confused by what I almost did. Hannah touches her mouth, bewilderment in her shining eyes, and I will her not to cry.

“You don't belong with me, Bryn,” she says quietly and steps back. “Once you did, but we're not there anymore. I had my chance. I had years to ask you to be mine, and I never did.”

“If you need me, we can try.”

Hannah shakes her head. “Listen to what you’re saying. You’re asking if I need you, not that you want me. You don't look at me the same as last year. You wouldn't be here if it weren’t for Connor. This isn't about us.”

I inhale as I attempt to pull myself back to the truth Hannah pushes on us.

“You can still give yourself to Connor without giving yourself to me,” she says. “We're not a package. I know things are tough with your girlfriend in England because you’re here, but don’t throw her away.”

I hold my fingers against my mouth. I’m fucking this up. All of it.

“Just promise me this won’t change your mind about Connor,” says Hannah.

“No. Never. I will always give him everything he needs, do whatever he wants.”

“Then you need to talk to him, explain you're his dad, but you won't be with us forever. You have to tell him you’ll leave again. It's unfair. You've had everybody stuck in a cruel limbo while we wait for you to make up your mind.”

Hannah’s right. This is guilt. Obligation. My stupid idea I can walk back in and put everything upright – the last eight years, Connor, me, and Hannah. I don’t want her, and I’ve been too numb to recognise what I want; a future I control and a life lived for myself, not others.

I curl my arms around Hannah, holding her head against my chest, in a gesture of comfort as if she were one of my sisters. “I'll be here for Connor until he's well. Because he will get well. Then we can decide what to do.”

Hannah wriggles away. “But speak to Avery. Reassure her. Don't lose another girl.”

I leave Hannah in the kitchen and head to the small room that’s my home currently. I sit on the edge of the bed, mind in turmoil. Do I love Avery enough? I just tried to kiss another woman. A woman I'm living with and who I care about.

Unable to cope with the emotional shitstorm growing between us, I've shut Avery out of my heart and mind in the last few weeks. I’m hollow, but now I realise part of the emptiness isn't the lost years without Connor, but the lost weeks without the woman who'd settled into my heart and made it home.

Hannah is right. I have to step away from the limbo I’m in and think things through instead of ignoring them.

If I want Avery, I have to let her know before it’s too late, and finally I have to allow myself to let go of Hannah.