Conviction(58)

“No,” he shouts. “No f*cking way. I got nothing. I called your phone, I called Sophie’s. I got nothing. Meebs, I swear, I swear to you.” His eyes are wide as he begs me to believe him. “I didn’t have a clue. No one called, no one left a message. I only left you that message when I didn’t hear from you. When you didn’t show.”

I feel strange. Like I’m floating. My skin prickles, like little shards of ice are settling all over it, but my insides, my belly and my chest, they feel too hot. Almost like everything is bubbling and boiling inside me. My head feels like a snow globe that’s just been shaken, my thoughts, the little white flecks churning around inside. I really don’t know what to think or feel about what he’s telling me. It doesn’t make sense, and I have no idea where to try and start working out what could’ve happened that night. How things could’ve gone so wrong for us.

He leans forward, toward me. His hands gripping the edge of the marble worktop. His beautiful eyes are looking all over my face and it suddenly strikes me, this is real. We’re really here. After all these years, we’re finally here, together, discussing what happened that night.

We stare at each other in silence for a moment. The churning in my belly and of my thoughts eases mildly as I look into his beautiful blue-green eyes, which are looking more like a grey kind of colour right now. They’re shining like he’s about to cry.

“You know what hurts the most, Meebs? You know what hurt me more than anything?”

I shake my head, my mouth opens to say no, but nothing comes out. So I just shake my head, not breaking his stare.

“After… after the accident, when they locked me up, you were the one person…” His jaw trembles and I ache to reach out to him. “You were the one person I thought I could rely on. I was so sure that you’d get in touch. That even if you’d changed your mind about us running away together, that you loved me enough to reach out, to visit or write me a letter at least. My brother was killed and I was remanded, locked up.” The expression on his face changes, his tone becomes harsh. “You abandoned me, Meebs. You did exactly what everyone warned me you’d do. You proved that I wasn’t good enough, that I was just your bit of rough. You stayed away,” he sobs out the last few words and tears run down his face. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand and storms out through the timber doors and onto a decked area, which seems to run around the ground floor of the house.

“I thought you’d left me in the hospital, Con. I thought you didn’t care. I stayed away because it’s what I thought you wanted,” I shout after him. I sit motionless for a few moments, then move my hands to grip my head. If I press down hard enough, it might hold my thoughts still.

None of this makes any sense. Sophie’s my best friend, she wouldn’t lie to me about calling Conner that day. Josh was Reed’s best friend. I gave him the letter that I wrote and asked him to take it with him to the prison when he went to see Conner, and he promised that he would. Why would they lie? Why would either of them want to lie to us?

I get up from the stool and go in search of a bathroom. I seriously need to wee and maybe vomit, I’ve not decided yet, and I most definitely need to splash my face with some cold water.

The guest bathroom isn’t hard to find and once I’ve had my wee, washed my hands and splashed my face, I no longer feel the need to be sick. I wipe the makeup from under my eyes and head back out to Conner. Determined to get to the bottom of whatever went on, all those years ago.





Conner is leaning with one elbow resting on the wooden handrail that runs around the deck. He’s smoking a cigarette while looking out over a large pool below. He doesn’t look at me as I lean my back against the handrail and watch him.

“I wrote to you,” I tell him, eventually.

He turns toward me with a frown on his face.

“I wrote you a letter. Asking, begging you, to just explain why? Why you chose to drive about, selling drugs with your brother and not come to the hospital. I wanted to know why you didn’t want to be with me when I’d just lost our baby? I wanted to know what had happened to change so much about the boy who left me at the bottom of my parents drive. The boy I loved and was so sure loved me. I wanted an explanation as to what could’ve happened to change all of that in just a few hours.”

He reaches behind him and puts his cigarette out in an ashtray, then turns his attention back to me.

“I wanted you to know,” I swallow hard and try to continue without crying. It doesn’t work. “I wanted you to know that I forgave you, Con. That no matter what, I knew we were strong enough to work it out. I knew we loved each other enough to get through whatever shit had happened that night. I wanted you to know that no matter what, I would always love you.” I don’t even attempt to fight the tears now, I just let them flow.

“So why didn’t you send it to me?” I close my eyes, letting the reality slice through me like a knife. He really didn’t get the letter.

“I did,” I whisper, “I gave it to Josh and he promised that he would get it to you.”

I watch him blink rapidly as he tries to make sense of what I’ve just told him.

“But why? I don’t understand. He’s a mate. Josh wouldn’t do that.”

I shrug my shoulders and shake my head.