“I shouldn’t have done that,” I whisper as soon as we’re far enough from the group.
“Shouldn’t have what? Come here?”
Come here. Come back. Hidden. Tried to forget.
“Is it because of what they said, what they think they know, or the way he looked at you?”
I smile at Sullivan in spite of myself.
“Got it…”
“No offence, Sullivan, but I don’t think you could understand.”
“I was young once too, you know. You don’t think I know how devastating heartbreak feels?”
“I’m not heartbroken.”
Silas and his sister start to walk around the garden, and my eyes can’t help but be drawn to him.
“No, of course not,” Sullivan teases.
“It’s not what you think. It’s not what everyone seems to think they think.”
“I’m sure you’re right. About them, I mean; not me.”
“Can we please talk about something else?”
“Whatever you prefer. Although there’s no reason to feel uncomfortable.”
“I don’t feel uncomfortable.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“Okay, maybe I do, a little. I’d like to see you in my position.”
“Luckily my time has already been and gone. Now I’d rather just watch other people live their lives.”
Sullivan hands me a beer; I accept and take a sip.
“How’s your brother?”
“He’s at home today, not working. I tried to invite him along, but he told me to just go and have fun.”
“Mmm…”
“He already feels guilty that I moved back here to be with him. He doesn’t want to get in the way.”
“He’s a tough cookie, your brother.”
“He always has been.”
“I wish there was more I could’ve done.”
“You’ve already done so much. And I’m afraid that there’s no more anyone could’ve done. It just happened; no one could avoid it. Just that Noel doesn’t agree.”
“That’s because he’s a good guy.”
“He’ll never forgive himself,” I find myself saying, although I wish it hadn’t been out loud, among the prying ears of local gossips.
Sullivan rests a hand on my shoulder. “As I said to you in the pub the other day, my dear boy: things always work out in the end. Just give it time.” He winks before nodding slightly to his right.
My eyes shift against their will just in time to watch as Silas moves through the crowd.
I wish Sullivan were right. I wish everything would start to get better for Noel and – why not? – for me, too. But I’m afraid it’ll take a long time for either of us to climb out of the hole we’ve fallen into.
Noel is right to feel the way he does. His entire life was flipped on its head so violently and suddenly that, some days, when I see him awake at four o’clock in the morning, trying to keep the business going on zero hours of sleep, I wonder where the hell he finds the strength to go on.
I admire him, even though he blames himself for everything. To me, his strength is enviable, his will to keep fighting so rare and so worthy of respect.
I can’t say the same for myself.
I’m weak – I always have been. I’ve never been brave. I’ve never believed in myself, in the way I felt, had no trust in my own emotions. I hurt him irreversibly.
Silas strips me bare, revealing everything I am; I always cloak myself in my fears.
Silas tears away the version of myself that I know and, in exchange, gives me something I’ll never be able to understand properly – but it’s something that I want to try to be, with everything that I am.
I don’t know how he does it, but all it takes is his presence, even from a distance, like now. All it takes are his eyes on me for a few seconds, like now. All it takes is for my skin to burn under his gaze, like right now.
When I’m with him, I feel so overwhelmed by him. When I’m not with him, I feel overwhelmed by emptiness.
I don’t think these emotions can exactly be considered positive – not when they risk making your world fold in on itself.
But I can’t help but turn towards him, watching his confident, fluid movements from afar; watching the way the beer bottle brushes against his lips, the way those same lips twist into a smile when he observes his friends up to their usual tricks. And don’t even get me started on the way his eyes glow brighter, glittering at the sight of his nieces.
How do I know all of this?
I am always watching him.
I’ve spent years watching him from a distance, just like I have these past few months. I’m scared even to breathe next to him, for fear of running out of air. Then our breaths were close – so close, and over the years I’ve been terrified that being far from him would stop my heart from beating.
I’ve never really been one to watch others, but when it comes to him things are different; I’m different. It’s as if I’m another person. The problem is that I still haven’t worked out whether this other person can coexist with the one I’ve always been.
He confuses me. That’s it. That’s the right way to describe it. He makes me want things that, until yesterday, I never thought I would want, and the day after, he makes me hate those same things, before hating myself even for thinking that I can do without them.
I don’t think it’s a good thing, being so close to someone who makes you feel so unstable, so vulnerable, but who, at the same time, makes the blood course through your veins almost painfully. I don’t think it’s a good thing that I can’t stop watching Silas, hoping, praying… I don’t think it’s a good thing, the way I feel for him, but I can’t stop, and I can’t forget. Because forgetting him, forgetting us, would mean forgetting everything good I’ve ever had in my life.