That One Moment (Lost in London #2)(10)
Ignoring the painful slice I feel in my heart every time I think of Rey, I nod pleasantly to the woman as she steps away from the podium and I fill her space. I squint against the spotlights and see that the ballroom is covered in white linens, low-hanging chandeliers, and splashes of dark purple floral centrepieces at each table. My eyes settle on the table front and centre and land on my mother. Even from up here I can see how nervous she is. My father is doing a proper job at appearing strong and regal. Next to my mum is Daphney, Theo, and, of course, Leslie. I avoid looking at the table next to them because I know exactly who’s sitting there.
I know her face better than I should. I used to watch Rey sleep. I could even tell when she was dreaming. Her eyeballs would flicker rapidly behind her lids, and she’d let out these gut-wrenching cries that made me beg the universe for some magical power that would grant me a look inside her head. I was desperate to know more than just her physical beauty. She has long dark hair and a curvy bombshell figure, plus an entire sleeve of tattoos on one arm and three black roses on her shoulder and collarbone. I had my suspicions about the meaning behind all her ink, but we never discussed them. We never discussed much. Her grey eyes held millions of secrets that she would never share with me. Our relationship was much more carnal. And I was too frozen in my own misery to ever push for more.
By the time I was able to admit to myself that I was in love with her, it was too late. Now she’s engaged to my brother’s best mate, Liam Darby, and I’m at a suicide gala giving a bloody survivor speech.
Fuck me.
Clearing my throat, I stare into the spotlights and begin the speech I’ve been reciting in my head for months now. “One year ago today, as my watch struck the hour of 11:11, I dragged a blade across both of my wrists.”
A soft gasp emits from somewhere in the room, and I pause to let my amplified words settle in over the audience. I glance sideways to the announcer standing off stage. Her eyes flare nervously and I clench my jaw to conceal the smirk threatening my lips.
“It’s quite a laugh, really…Well, not the trying to kill myself part…That was the opposite of comedy. But what’s funny is that when I volunteered to be the keynote speaker for this evening, the charity gave me a list of trigger words. Taboo phrases they advised me not to say. They gave me suitable alternatives for things like kill myself, slitting my wrists, and even blood”
My eyes ache to look over at Rey to see her reaction right now, but I resist. She’s not a part of my life anymore. Her approval isn’t what I need to be healthy. It’s not why I’m doing this.
“But because I’m a Clarke and this is our benefit, I’m doing this speech my way. And if any of you are afraid of a trigger or whatever sod all word they give for things that are uncomfortable…this is your chance to exit.”
Chairs shift in the audience as the ballroom full of British tight-arses begin to squirm in their seats. I can just hear the old birds saying silently, “Oh heavens, I want to go, but that might appear rude!”
“If Madge is staying, I’m bloody well staying too!”
“Blimey, Victoria knew I was wearing blue…How could she wear it too?”
When I see no one attempting to leave, I continue, “It was this exact night a year ago…this same charity…this same ballroom that I walked out of, stumbled into a cab pissed out of my mind, and headed through the streets of London. The entire ride, I looked at the driver and thought to myself, ‘he’s got no idea he’s driving a dead man.’
“I arrived at my brother’s furniture shop, grabbed a small, circular saw blade he used for trim work, and drug it across each one of my wrists.” A faint cough echoes in the distance, and I sigh heavily at the ridiculousness that normal things like coughing still happen while I’m up here revealing the incredible f*cking darkness in my soul. “You see, I was coming to the end of a dark and depressing tunnel that I had been living in for several years.” I pause momentarily to collect myself for my big moment of truth. The most painful truth that I still struggle with to this day.
“Four years ago, I was a part of a horrific accident that took my sister’s life.” My voice cracks and I frown at the annoying emotions that overcome me. I let my chin hit my chest and suck the insides of my cheeks in between my teeth and bite down. The spongy bounce on my inner cheeks smarts and distracts me enough to continue.
“I still have difficulty labeling what happened to my sister as an accident. When you’re the one behind the wheel…it’s still a tough pill to swallow that it truly was as simple as an accident. Why did it have to be her? Why did I have to be driving by just as she came around the house? So many ripple effects to all the choices we both made that resulted in that one moment. That’s an incredibly hard result to live with.
“Which is likely why I spiraled out of control for so many years. Booze and pills became my best mates, even landing me in the hospital for several weeks at one point. So when shite really hit the fan in my personal life, slitting my wrists seemed like the answer.”
I pause as I recall that one dark night with Reyna. In her flat when I could feel her slipping away from me. I could feel her leaving me, and I knew I wasn’t good enough to make her stay. I knew her heart wasn’t mine to care for because I was nothing. I wasn’t important enough for her to love fully. That was my breaking point. I had hated myself for so long because of what I did to my sister that when I finally accepted the fact that I couldn’t be loved by even someone as dark and twisted as Rey, it truly was the end.