I Love You to Death(26)

He cares.
He cares whether I’m okay. He was being protective, protecting me. Protecting me from Liam and it wasn’t the first time either. He’s acting like it matters how Liam talks to me, treats me. He’s acting like I matter, like I matter to him. As if I’m someone he cares about and needs to protect.
It reminds me of something, something so painful that it makes my heart twist, my insides churn and my head hurt. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. I can’t let this happen.
I hold up my hands, stopping him. I see his eyes fall and take in my now shaking hands.
"Ash, are you okay?" he asks me again, his voice urgent, concerned now.
I don’t say anything, only nod.
"You’re sure?" he asks, his eyes drawn, worry and something else now, all over his face. "Ash, please, talk to me, are you sure you’re okay?"
"Thank you Luke," is all I can say, lowering my eyes so I don’t have to look at him before quickly turning and walking out of the kitchen.
I can’t let this happen.
I hear him call out, "Ash?" but I don’t turn around. I keep walking and go back to work, determined to finish my shift and forget what I saw just then. This can’t be happening.
About five minutes later, Luke comes out, a staff beer from the stash we keep in the cold room in his hand. He silently hands it to me, his eyes watching my face as he does. As soon as I meet his stare, I look away. I still can’t look at him, especially now. "Thank you," I say quietly, taking the bottle from his hand, our fingers brushing before I quickly turn and walk away.
I don’t speak to or look at Luke for the rest of my shift. Liam and I avoid each other too, but that’s easy because I’m only angry at him. With Luke it’s something far different.
Thankfully Luke doesn’t try and talk to me again, but I do hear him on the phone, talking to someone, his voice slightly raised although I can’t make out what he’s saying. When he’s about to leave a few minutes later, Luke comes over to me first.
"Ash, do you want to go and get a drink or something?" he asks.
I look up at him, his face full of concern and so much more. But all I can see is everything that I can and will destroy. Everything that I could find and then lose. I can’t do this again. I just can’t go through it all again.
"Just a drink?" he continues. "Nothing more, we don’t have to talk about anything that happened earlier."
I look down at the counter. See my hands as they clench the now empty beer bottle, my fingers turning white. I shake my head. "No," I say, my voice flat. "I can’t, I just can’t Luke," before turning and walking away.
I hear him call out my name again, but I don’t look back. He follows me into the staff room out the back, where there is no one else but us.
"Ash," he says to me, softly this time.
I’m reaching into my locker for my bag and don’t turn around. "Please go Luke. Please." My voice sounds strange, flat.
"Are you sure?" he asks quietly. "Are you sure you’re okay Ash?"
I turn to him now, keeping my eyes on his feet, unable to look at him. "Please, not now. Just go. Please just go. Please Luke, please." My voice betrays me, I’m afraid and I know he can hear it.
I feel him watching me for what feels like forever. I’m about to explode, and I’m not going to be able to stop myself, stop the words that are going to spew from my mouth, the anger I can feel surging through me. This isn’t right, this can’t be happening.
"Ash," he finally says his voice quiet. "It’s okay you know. If you want to talk, ever want to…well I’m here if you do."
I still don’t say anything. I don’t look at him and I don’t move. He says nothing more, just exhales loudly before thankfully turning and walking out.
When the door closes, I collapse to my knees on the floor. Angry tears fall from my eyes and I can do nothing to stop them. I don’t want this life anymore, I can’t keep doing this. It’s killing me.
The grief and the guilt I carry, are consuming me. The grief and the guilt that I carry are slowly suffocating me. I feel buried alive, like every breath I’m forced to take is a huge effort. Sometimes I wonder if it would just be easier to stop breathing.
I feel trapped. Time, my sanity, everything, it all feels like it’s somehow running out. The will to keep going, the will to even wake up every day, it’s all slowly disappearing and I don’t know if I can keep doing this much longer.
But it’s the anger that’s really killing me.
The anger I feel for all of the people I love, who’ve died on me, who’ve gone and left me all alone.
The anger I feel for anyone who just tries to be nice to me. The ones I have to constantly push away to protect.
The anger I have for Sam for knowing the truth about me and dying anyway.
But most of all, the anger I have for myself.
The anger at being the way I am, the anger at having caused all of this and more than anything, the anger at being unable to do a f*cking thing about it all.
I’m full of anger and that’s what’s really killing me.
I don’t know how long I stay on the floor, but I know I have to leave. I have to get out of here and go home where I can hide from everyone, where I can suffocate alone. When I stand up to go, I notice the bottle still in my hand and as I walk out the door I throw it at the trash can where it smashes into a million tiny pieces. I don’t stop and I don’t look back. I hear Sarah call out my name as I leave, but I ignore her. I don’t see Luke at all and I just keep walking out the door.