Chase, page 12
“I know that, and she knows that, but she’s still angry about it,” she replies with a small shrug of her shoulders. “And secondly, she never heard from you again.”
“That’s bullshit!” I cry out. “I texted her every day for like a month! I sent her letters, emails, and called her phone, only to get a continuously engaged tone. She cut all contact with me. And when I finally came back for her, when I had the means to do so, she had gone off with some other guy!”
“I wonder, Theo, for a smart boy, you really are stupid sometimes.” She sits back and glares at me as though I’m supposed to know what the fuck she’s talking about. “Can you think of no one who might have cut you off without her knowledge?”
“You’re talking about Ethan, aren’t you?” I ask, to which she nods.
“She cried many a night over here, telling me how you had forgotten all about her,” she says sadly. “I didn’t know how to console her, and at the time, I had no idea you had been trying.”
I close my eyes, feeling somewhat guilty, even though I have no idea what for. I did all that I could; Izzy and I just had too many people working against us. I want to question Grandma on what she knows about the guy she ran off with, but I doubt it would help me now. In fact, it would only stir up sad and bitter memories for me.
“Ok,” I sigh, thinking of the now instead of the past. “What does she actually do for a living?”
“And give up on her forever inventive job titles?” she teases. “I think I’ll leave it to her to tell you that one.”
“Ok,” I say a little too harshly. “Then, why would she walk out on me when I mentioned my mother thinking about her over the years?”
“I can only think it was because your mother was always kind to her,” she says matter of factly, “and yet, she also left. You both leaving was pretty traumatic for Izzy, for it meant she was left alone with her family, and with only a frail old woman on her side. After what happened between you and her, my son, in his infinite wisdom, decided to leave Ethan to take charge while he was in the city working. He decided her mother couldn’t cope, that Izzy needed a firm hand, and that hand was Ethan’s. I was rarely able to see her after that. He always came up with reasons for why I couldn’t see her, or why she couldn’t come to the phone. Ethan has never had much interest in me. And as for Tilly, I knew she bullied her, but I couldn’t tell you to what extent.”
“What the hell happened to her, Grandma? When did she lose herself?” I look her in the eye, scared of what the answers to all my questions might be.
“Personally, I believe she lost a little piece of herself every day after you left. You were her rock, her soulmate. And she got left behind. But also…”
She stops herself, then stares at the floor, removes her glasses, and wipes each of her eyes with the back of her hand. When she looks back up at me, her eyes are full of fear.
“Also, what?” I dare to ask.
“I don’t know, Theo,” she eventually replies, shaking her head and looking back down at her frail, old hands. “Something happened. Not long before she left, she came round to see me, a rare visit, and I saw it on her face; something had stolen all the light from her eyes. My beautiful, cheerful, happy-go-lucky girl was gone. Theo, I’m not sure I want to know what it is that did that to her. What Tilly did to her was bad enough, but something else happened; I’m sure of it.”
“What the hell did Tilly do?” I growl through my teeth, knowing it must have been pretty awful to stand out against all the usual crap Tilly used to give her.
“Again, Theo, that is for her to tell you,” she says sadly. “If she knows I told you these things, the trust would be gone completely, for either of us. You know how perceptive she is, I won’t risk it.”
“I’ll find out,” I whisper these words like a vow. “And I will try my best to bring her back, Grandma, I promise.”
_____
Theo
I don’t return home until gone seven, when I am pleasantly surprised to see the lights switched on behind the windows. Either we have burglars or Izzy is actually at home. I take a moment or two to get my head straight, to remind myself to tread carefully, no matter how much I want to demand answers from her. She simply isn’t ready to reveal all, and annoyingly, I have to respect that.
As I tentatively walk inside, I hear her bustling around in the kitchen, singing badly to David Bowie. It’s the soundtrack to Labyrinth, her favorite film, just one of the many facts about her that I remember from our childhood. For a while, I can’t help but stand in the doorway so I can watch her in her obliviousness to my return, being that the music has been turned up loud. She knows every single word, including the talking parts, which has me smiling to myself. She wiggles her ass as she sings, and though she is a piss-poor singer, she’s still the sexiest, cutest girl I’ve ever seen. She also still fits into the Labyrinth t-shirt she had worn when she was just fifteen. Her breasts may have filled it in a little more, but otherwise, it’s like we’re inside her family home, me in my suit, her in this exact same t-shirt. The memory brings a lump to my throat. I remember thinking it was the best night of my life, and if I’m being truly honest with myself, it still is. What happened the following day forever tainted it. It’s like holding a trinket or a photograph of a loved one who is no longer here, filling you up with both happiness and grief. In the end, you block it out to avoid the overwhelming emotion that goes with it.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice her turning around until she jumps with a pitched yelp of shock. Her hand flies to her chest before she switches off the music and tries to calm herself down. I laugh softly at her, and she almost smiles back, but then catches herself and wipes any hint of genuine mirth from her face.
“Thought I’d return the favor with a homemade curry,” she says as she gestures to the pots and pans. “Hope you like it hot and spicy.”
“Only way to have it isn’t it?” I grin before removing my work tie and sitting down at the table.
She serves me a plate before taking a seat opposite. We smile awkwardly at one another, so I take a large bite, only to realize she wasn’t kidding.
“Fuck me, Iz, that’s damn spicy!” I grab a glass of water and start to gulp while she casually swallows her mouthful like it’s an extremely mild korma.
“You might wanna try milk if that doesn’t work,” she says and dips in for another forkful.
I have to give in and head straight for the fridge to grab a glass full of ice-cold milk. Of course, she takes great delight in watching me struggle with the heat, all the while she eats more and more of her dinner.
“Where’ve you been over the last couple of days?” I take the opportunity to ask, still wincing over the hot sauce burning my esophagus.
“Been making a porn movie,” she says without looking up from her next bite, “it’s set to be big next year.”
“Yeah?” I play along. “You certainly have the body for it.”
She doesn’t say anything, merely rolls her eyes and continues to eat. By the time she’s finished, I’ve just about managed to eat half of it. I apologize for not being able to clear my plate before inviting her to come and sit with me in the living room. Expecting her to say no, I look to the floor, just waiting for her rejection. However, she shocks me by nodding her head and getting to her feet, grabbing a couple of wine glasses and a bottle. I follow her closely before she can change her mind.
“Fancy a game to break the tension?” I ask as we settle down inside of the living room chairs.
“No,” she replies bluntly, then takes a sip of her wine.
“Oh, come on, Iz!” I sigh. “Throw me a fucking bone here.”
“What game?” She sighs back at me as I punch the air in celebration. “Theo, I am used to living alone, so go easy.”
“I have never,” I suggest, “that’s a girly sleepover game, isn’t it?”
“Wouldn’t know, never been to one,” she replies, “but I know of it. You go first, two fingers if you’ve done whatever it is.”
“Ok, I have never watched the whole of Labyrinth,” I tell her truthfully. She gives me an unimpressed look before tipping back her glass to drink.
“I have never had sex in the sea,” she says, sounding purposefully bored. That is until I drink. “I hope you got an infection,” she tuts, to which I smile. Finally, she’s beginning to sound like the old Izzy.
“I’ve only ever been in love with one girl,” I say, to which she looks me in the eye. I stare right back at her as I drink my two fingers’ worth. By the time I’ve finished, she’s shaking her head and laughing disbelievingly.
“I have never been hurt by a blood relative,” I say, even though it isn’t my turn. Her expression is murderous, but she still plays the game, drinking her entire glass all the while she glares at me.
“I have never cut contact with a girl whom I professed to love,” she says, narrowing her eyes. She stares, still waiting for me to drink, and when I don’t, her face turns an angry shade of red. “If you’re not going to be truthful, Theo, there’s little point in playing this ridiculous game.”
“I did contact you, Izzy,” I tell her, sounding stern, “I texted, I phoned, I emailed, and I sent you letters. I even came over to see you, but you’d already gone. Perhaps you should ask your brother why you never got any of them.”
“It’s been over ten years, Theo, and you’ve been traveling over here for the last few, so why did you never come and find me?”
“Because when I found out about you leaving with your new boyfriend, which Ethan took great delight in showing me on his phone, it broke my Goddamn heart, Izzy! I had waited for you, didn’t go near a single girl because I was in love with you and only you. Seeing you with some guy wrapped around your half-naked body gave me nightmares for months, Iz,” I admit. She looks at me with such sadness, I wonder if she’s going to break down and cry, admit to everything and finally let me in. I take a risk and push forward. “I was so lost, Iz, I even had to ask Grandma to not talk about you, just to get the sickness of losing you out of my head. I didn’t want to hear how you’d moved on with your life without me.”
She closes her eyes for a minute or two, and when she finally opens them, a tear rolls down her cheek. This is it; this is when she’s going to confess all to me and let me comfort and forgive her so we can be together again.
“Your turn!” she snaps, to which my heart drops with disappointment.
“I have never loved anyone but you,” I tell her confidently, if not angrily, but she doesn’t move, not even to look at me.
“I never drink more than two glasses of wine at a time,” she whispers. She then smiles as she watches me drink with a frown of utter confusion on my face.
“I thought you downed a bottle of wine on Sunday?” I echo back her words from Monday morning, but she simply shrugs her shoulders, then places her half-full glass carefully onto the table.
“I know who I am and I’m at peace with that,” I say quietly, goading her to open up. She lies by picking up her glass to drink. Izzy is anything but at peace, but she knows I know that.
“I’ve slept with half a football team because apparently, I’m a whore and a good lay,” she smiles wickedly, and I know I’ve lost her again. My face must say as much as she places the glass down and sighs in defeat. “What do I have to do on Saturday?”
“Nothing, I’ve taken care of everything.” I clear my throat nervously before continuing. “Wear whatever you want and be here for seven. Like Grandma said, I started coming back here for business purposes two years ago, and we got in contact. We’ve been seeing each other over those two years, and I asked you to marry me a few months ago; let’s say in May. I can make something up about the proposal…unless you have any ideas?”
“No,” she whispers sadly, “I wouldn’t know where to start with something like that. I’ll wash up in the morning before work. I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Theo.”
Izzy
Before I’ve even reached my bedroom, I can hear Theo running the tap to wash up. It instantly makes me want to run down and lay into him, but I can’t actually say why. I thought I was so angry with him because I never heard from him after he left, however I do believe him when he says he had tried to. But I’m still angry. I’m just angry, full stop.
Pushing it all aside, I begin getting ready for bed, hoping the mundane tasks will distract me enough to forget about how he had once made me feel. However, as I shove a t-shirt over my head, I hear the sound of heavy footsteps pacing down the hallway to my room. With my heart caught in my throat, I look to the bottom of my door where I see the shadow of two feet standing outside. My breathing hitches up in panic, and I feel so lightheaded, I have to reach out to brace myself against the door. Perspiration begins to coat my skin, and I have to wipe my clammy hands down my thighs, all the while I wait for him to say something.
Please don’t say anything, please stay away from me, please don’t make me feel anything, please, I’m scared!
After a few minutes, he leaves, and I feel a combination of relief and disappointment. But in the safety of knowing that he can no longer hear me, I force myself to sniff back the cries that are resting inside of my throat. I learned how to manage grief and sadness a long time ago, and part of that is to not let myself begin crying. If I don’t control it, I know I will never stop.
_____
Izzy
Friday is manic but that’s good because it keeps me from thinking about the things that threaten my well-trained body’s ability to stay numb and devoid of meaningful emotion. After work, I head over to Penny’s apartment. I know she’s Tilly’s stepdaughter now, but I still trust her with some things. Not everything, never everything, but the parts to get me through the day when you have no one else.
We get ready to go out for the night, something that’s rare these days, but I’m going to need to let my hair loose if I have to face my family tomorrow. She bitches about Tilly the whole time, and I find it calming. She doesn’t say anything that can shock or surprise me when it comes to my sister. No one has a lower opinion of my family than me.
By the time I’m ready, she’s only just beginning to apply her extensive make-up, but I enjoy watching her. I wish I’d had a sister like this growing up, not the nightmare that I had to endure.
It’s gone eleven by the time we get ourselves into one of London’s busier nightclubs. The music is thumping and the amount of skin on show is laughable. When we get inside, the bar is busy, but I manage to push our way to the front and order a couple of cocktails. Penny tells me to order two each to avoid queuing again, but I only get myself one. I wasn’t lying when I told Theo I only ever drink two glasses before I’m done. I’ll just make this one last; no one will notice.
“Bloody hell, it’s busy already,” she shouts over the music while we wander over to a table at which to stand. “Jaime says he’s spotted us and is on his way over.”
“Is it love?” I tease.
“Don’t know,” she says, “but he’s a good fuck and he’ll do for now.” She smirks while I shake my head over her casual attitude to it all. “There he is,” she says, waving frantically at him.
“Hey, Izzy,” he says after having tongue-kissed Penny right in front of me. Jaime is a good-looking boy, but he sure does know it. And boys who know how gorgeous they are make me anxious as well as cautious. I offer him a fake smile while Penny slides her arms all over him. “Will says hi, you should know he’s—"
“Whatever you’re about to tell me, that’s for me and him to discuss. He’ll tell me stuff when he’s good and ready.” He smiles and nods, looking either embarrassed or impressed, I’m not sure which. “I’m gonna go and dance before the music gets too clubby for me. I’m old, remember?”
I smile as Penny rolls her eyes because I know I’m not really old, but compared to them, I’m positively ancient. They waste no time in starting to eat each other as soon as I leave.
I shimmy into the crowd when a song I know begins to play. I may not drink to loosen up, but I have trained my body well to lose its inhibitions over the years, including being able to dance confidently. I swing my hips slowly to the music while throwing my arms up in the air to move in time to the beat. It’s not long before a hand slides over my hips and begins to grind against me. I enjoy the human touch but don’t feel the need to even look at the guy. We move closer to each other, and I lose myself even further to the song. Eventually, I spin around to face him, and I smile. At least he’s an attractive man - tall, well built, and with short dark blond hair. He grins with hooded eyes as I throw my arms around his neck and move even closer against him. He wraps his arms around my waist, and we lace our legs in between one another. We’re so close, I can feel his growing erection digging into my groin, but all he does is smile at me.
When the song comes to a close, I let go and begin to break free from him. He frowns and pulls me back in the hopes of another dance. When I shake my head, no, he leans in to ask, “Wanna drink?”
“No, but thanks for the dance.” I push away, only to have his hand grab hold of my arm to pull me back.
“Where are you going, sweetheart?” he whispers in my ear, then pulls back to suggestively bite his lip and arch a questioning brow.
“I said, no,” I reply firmly. After a moment or two of indecision, he thankfully lets go of me but not before calling me a ‘Fucking prick tease!’
When he storms off, I decide to take my leave in the opposite direction, hoping not to run into him again. There were nights when I would have confronted a guy like that, gotten a rush from putting myself in danger, but not tonight. Not after the game Theo and I played the other day. Not after all the memories came rushing to the surface again.
“Izzy?” A deep, American voice says from behind me. “What the hell are you doing here?”
I turn to see Theo looking every bit as gorgeous as he always does, standing next to another equally attractive model-worthy-looking man next to him.
“This is my colleague and best friend, Daniel,” he says, gesturing to him.
