THE TROUBLE WITH PAPER PLANES(58)

“So he hit you?”

“No, he pushed me – I fell and hit my head on the table.”

Yeah, I bet he did. Gutless bastard. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you anywhere else?”

“No, no, I’m fine – really. I just fell, and… he didn’t do it on purpose.”

I stood there, silently debating which of his bones to break first. He had crossed a line now, a line that should never be crossed. It looked like his luck had run out. I was just in the right frame of mind now to knock him straight into next week.

“What’s he on?” I demanded. “Is he drunk or is it something else?”

“I don’t know. I think he’s just drunk. He’s not thinking straight – he started smashing up the place because I took his keys and hid them from him. I thought it best to get out of his way. I thought he’d calm down if I left him alone,” she said miserably. “I thought maybe he’d just lie down on the couch and sleep it off.”

She looked on the verge of tears and Maia drew her gently into her arms. “It’s okay. We’ll figure something out.”

Then Maia looked to me, as if for guidance. I wanted to tell her to take Bridget back to my place while I smashed the living shit out of Alex. I wanted to tell her that no one should have to put up with this, least of all his own mother. I wanted to tell her that Alex had gone too far, that this was beyond forgiveness.

But I knew that I wasn’t the one he would be asking for forgiveness from. And Bridget would forgive him, just like she’d forgiven him for everything else he’d done. Tonight, he would rant and rave and spew his poison over all of us. And tomorrow, he would wake up none the wiser. It was Bridget who would have to go to work tomorrow sporting a bruise. His own mother, who was suffering from the same grief he was – now doubled, thanks to him.

What happened to honouring Emily’s memory? What would she have done? Would she have looked at me like Maia was right at that moment?

I swallowed down the revulsion I felt towards him for putting me in this situation.

“Stay here. Leave him to me,” I said tightly, turning and heading back down the hallway.

My footsteps reverberated off the wooden floors, and I hope he heard me. I sure as hell heard Bridget, sobbing quietly in Maia’s arms behind me. It spurred me on, feeding my anger.

I stopped when I got to the open plan kitchen and dining room. Alex was standing near the French doors, leaning on the back of one of the dining room chairs, head bowed. He was looking more and more like Bridget these days, but unlike Bridget he looked unkempt. God only knew what he was into these days, but I had my suspicions it was more than just booze. He had lost weight and he looked much older than me, even though we were the same age.

I wanted to believe that he knew what he was doing but he couldn’t stop himself. I hoped it was grief that made him act this way, and that the real Alex was still in there, somewhere. I just wished to hell he’d wake up to himself and get some help. If he carried on behaving like this, he was on a sure-fire path to self-destruction. I couldn’t bear to think of Bridget losing both her kids. As resilient as she was, that would be enough to break anyone.

He looked up slowly, and I could see how out of it he was. He had trouble focusing on me. Good. Maybe the drunker he was, the less likely he would be to cause any more trouble.

“What the f*ck do you want?” he growled, confusion giving way to anger as he pushed himself upright.

“I’m taking you home,” I said evenly. “You’ve out-stayed your welcome.”

Honestly, the idea of being in the same car as him sent a chill up my spine. But if it got him away from Bridget – and Maia – that was a small price to pay.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

That didn’t really surprise me. Somehow, he managed to hold my gaze steadily, even though he himself was the opposite. Great. Not drunk enough to go quietly, but definitely drunk enough to cause more damage.

I could hear footsteps coming up the hall, and quiet sniffing. Alex’s bloodshot eyes slid from mine to the hall behind me. I could tell the exact moment he laid eyes on Maia. His mouth went slack, his eyes widened and he somehow managed the miracle of standing stock still.

“Em?” he whispered.

The hope in his voice was pitifully clear. I knew how much he wanted her to be Em, because I’d wanted that too. But she wasn’t. And despite everything, I had to let him down gently because I knew how much it hurt.