I Love You to Death(69)

Saying goodbye is so much worse.
∞

I’m lying on the floor in my cold apartment. My whole body feels frozen now and I can’t move because I just don’t care anymore.
Someone’s knocking at the door. It’s late, after eleven. It has to be him, Luke.
My broken heart is pounding, telling me to open the door. My head is screaming at me to protect him, to stay away from him. I want to listen to both. He’s still knocking, louder now. He knows I’m in here.
"Ash!" I hear him say. "Please Ash, please let me in."
I want to.
"Asha, please," his voice is begging, pleading, breaking as it reaches out to me.
I lie on the floor, silent on the other side of the door, desperately wanting to open it but unable to.
Luke keeps pounding. "Ash!" he says firmly. "I’m not leaving here, I’m not leaving until you talk to me, tell me what’s going on here."
He’s very stubborn when he wants to be. He fights for what he wants.
I wish I had the courage to do that.
There’s only silence now, the knocking has stopped and I wonder if he’s given up. I don’t want him to give up.
I don’t want to give him up.
I’m trying to work up the courage to open the door, trying to convince myself that it’s okay to open it, that he will be there. That I can just open the door and pull Luke inside. That it’s okay for me to do that, it’s okay for me to want him.
I want to move, but I can’t.
Minutes pass by.
I try and listen for his breathing but the only sounds I hear are my own hard, painful breaths as they force themselves from my lungs. My chest still aches.
The silence seems endless and it’s torturing me as I imagine him gone now. Luke gone, no longer caring and no longer fighting. Has he walked away now, has he said his goodbye?
The air feels impossibly still as I hold my breath, willing myself to hear him. Willing him to say something more; to ask me to open the door again, just one more time. Please Luke, please don’t give up on me.
His pleading voice finally breaks the silence, "Asha, please. Please talk to me."
And this time it cracks something inside of me. He hasn’t given up, and now I give in.
I uncurl my body, crawl to the door, stand and unlock it. He’s there on the other side and he looks wrecked, completely wrecked. I say nothing as he pulls me to him. Say nothing as he wraps his arms tightly around me. He pushes me back inside, never letting go of me as he kicks the door shut with his foot. He walks me to the couch, sits us down and pulls me into his lap. I’m so weak, I let him do all of it. Let him wrap me completely in his arms. Let him stroke my hair back from my face, brush the tears from my cheeks. Let him kiss me everywhere with his lips.
I can’t let go of him. I can’t let him go.
"Ash beautiful, please talk to me. Please," he begs. "What’s this all about?"
I want to tell him.
I want him to help me.
I want him to make this all stop.
I just want him.
He presses his lips to my ear, whispering, "Please Ash, I promise you can tell me anything, anything at all. Let me help you, please just let me make this all okay." Luke’s voice is pleading with me and I can hear the ache in his words, can feel the ache inside of me.
I want to tell him everything.
"Please Asha." His voice is barely a whisper.
So I do. I take a deep breath and tell him all of it. I tell him about every single death, about all of the death that was my fault. I tell him about my mother, Grace, my Grandad, Adam, Selena, Nate, Angela, my Grandma, Dad, Seth, Lara and Sam.
All of them. I tell him how I killed all of them. How I thought I’d killed him. How his accidents; the knife, Liam, the burn, have all been because of me. How I’m afraid every time something happens to him, it will be the last time, and I will lose him. He asks me about each of them, what happened and I tell him everything. He asks me about Sam. I tell him.
∞

Sam’s funeral very nearly killed me. It was back in Seattle, I didn’t have a choice in that. Despite five years together, Sam’s parents decided everything. I wanted to be a part of it, I was so alone and I wanted them to let me be a part of it. But it destroyed me, him dying and I couldn’t do anything. I could barely speak, even to them.
His parents tried to offer some kind of comfort, but they were in shock themselves. His brother was like me, numb and couldn’t speak to anyone. And his sister blamed me. Kate blamed me for what had happened to Sam, and I knew she was right. Knew she was right about me from the very start. That I was never good enough for Sam, that I would never make him happy and that eventually he would leave me and come back to Seattle. She was right, because in the end he did end up back there without me, and it was all because of what I’d done.
I tried to tell her I agreed with her, that she was right about me and that I was so very sorry for everything. But all she did was slap my face and storm off. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since.
I didn’t even go to the wake afterwards, couldn’t bear it. I took Sam home, gave him to them and then I just left him. I killed him and took him back there and then abandoned him straight after the funeral. I just left.
I haven’t heard from his family since. Not once, but then I haven’t contacted them either. A part of me feels bad for that because I know it would piss Sam off. He would have wanted them to try more with me, for me to try more with them. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t look them in the eye, knowing everything I’d done. And I guess they felt the same way.