Alex struggled to enter his father’s room at first, which, considering the confidence in his stride on the walk there, was surprising to me. His slight pause by the door had me squeezing his hand tight and taking control. He’d already lost one parent and I could only imagine the fear that tore through him at seeing his last, living, breathing body of DNA fast asleep, hooked up to a million machines. Even if that person did happen to be a perpetual arsehole to the majority of the world.

“Are you okay?” I asked, keeping my eyes on him as he took a seat beside his father’s bed. I went to sit on the opposite side, allowing Nicholas’ lifeless form to create some distance between his son and me.

Alex’s attention was fixed firmly on his father’s pale, yellowing face, and he began to shake his head.

“Sometimes,” Alex began, “I look at him and I wonder who this man is. I wonder if I could ever become as fucked up as he is. I see so many similarities in the way we look, the way we deal with certain things, in our self-destruction. I wonder if, some day, it will be me hooked up this way. Is his destiny mine, too?”

“I don’t think you could ever end up this way, no matter how self-destructive you think you are,” I assured him quietly

“All it takes is another addiction.”

“Another?”

He closed his eyes and inhaled through his nostrils, eventually speaking through the exhale. “All of us are addicted to something. All of us are capable of becoming mad men. The only thing that separates us is our triggers.”

“Should I ask what yours is?”

“Probably not.” He grinned, opening his eyes to flash all his mischief in my direction. It felt wrong to smile in return, given where we were, but I did so anyway. I smiled at him until the connection felt so strong, so sprinkled with guilt, that I had to force myself to look down at my hands and rub my lips together to collect my thoughts.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you could ever hurt a woman the way your father did. You’re not a monster.”

“You, more than anyone, know what I'm capable of.”

I cringed internally as soon as I realised my mistake. “I meant you couldn't physically hurt a woman. Sorry.”

“For what it’s worth,” he copied, “you don’t ever need to apologise to me, Nat. You can speak freely about my mistakes. Ignoring them doesn’t make them any less real. But don’t you see? Mental pain is sometimes worse than physical. A bruise fades. The consequences of my actions and jaded decisions… they never will. You’ll always wear my scar, the same way Mum wore hers.”

Even though I knew he was right, and a part of me wanted to tell him of the heartache he’d inflicted on me, it was too hard for me to watch him hurting so openly. I hated to see him looking so certain of his faults, like he was the only human being to have them. It was hard for me, even in times like these, to see Alex as anything other than the perfect fifteen-year-old boy who waltzed into my life when I needed him the most.

“Do you ever think we should have just stayed friends?” I asked him out of nowhere. “Nothing physical. Nothing confusing. Did we cross a line?”

“I’ve thought about that so many times.”

“And?”

“Those thoughts have always been fleeting. It would have been impossible for me to live beside you and never touch you. There would always have been more to it for me. I was too attracted to you, both inside and out.”

I smiled awkwardly, not knowing what to say and forcing myself to look away again, but only briefly as Alex’s chair creaked when he leaned forward, pulling my attention right back to him.

“I still am too attracted to you, Nat. You’ve grown impossibly more beautiful with each year that has passed by, so whether it had been five months, five or fifteen years down the line, we would always have happened. That night with you would always have happened. The date would just have been different. That’s all.”

“That night,” I breathed out, my thighs pressing together without instruction as the memories of me at my absolute happiest came flooding back to taunt me.

“... Was the best night of my life. Nothing, not one single moment of my future, will ever top that night with you.”

The room suddenly felt incredibly hot, all the tension mixed with the memories causing my cheeks to flame to life. How had we ended up here? How had we become such familiar strangers?

Trailing my tongue over my bottom lip, I was well aware of how intimate this conversation was getting, and my thoughts drifted to Marcus, to my boyfriend, to the man who had selflessly picked me up and held me tight since the moment I threw myself onto his lap in the back of that black cab. I shouldn’t have been where I was. I should have left the second Alex arrived. I should have known that this was only going to result in one thing: more confusion.

“I should go,” I said as I turned to face his father. “I should definitely go.”

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I don't think you ever mean to, Alex.”

“Which means?”

“Nothing.” I sighed.

“You can tell me. I’d like you to be honest.”

I turned to him again, clearly not hiding my reluctance at all as my face displayed everything I was feeling. “Fine. You scare me.”

“I scare you?”

“Yes,” I told him, adding in a nervous, barely there nod. “And I think, deep down, you know you do. I see it in your eyes. You know what you’re capable of when it comes to me. You know you have this power, this ability to drag me back under, and that scares me. I don’t want to ever hurt that way again.”

His brows creased together, and I clearly saw the regret in his eyes. “I don’t ever want to hurt you again.”

“Then why are you back here?”

“This is the best place for my dad.”

“And?”

His eyes flickered to his father before they focused back on me, and with every second that passed by, I could feel him reeling me that little bit closer towards him, and I was completely powerless to stop him. It was like some fucked up kind of gravity. I was always going to fall in his direction. “What’s that saying? Home is where the heart is, right? That’s it. I guess I kinda left my heart here five years ago. This is the only place that has ever felt like home to me, and I want that feeling back. Knowing I’m close to you in any way… It’s where I need to be for now.”

“So you’re staying?”

“I’m staying,” he said through a heavy breath, and I watched as the strong muscles in his shoulders relaxed, his body falling slightly as though the weight of a decision he’d been waiting too long to make had finally been lifted from him. “But I promise, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not here to break up your happy home, make you miserable or unsure about yourself all over again. I know what I did was wrong. I just miss you, Nat. I miss us.”

“Don’t say it,” I warned him quickly, not sure if I could handle hearing the word Natexus fall from his lips.

“Am I really that bad of a memory for you?”

It was my turn to look resigned then, only I didn’t feel any reprieve from the burden on my shoulders when I finally spoke. “You’re the best memory I’ve got, and that’s the problem I have. How can I ever move on when you’re under my nose all over again?”

“You have Marcus.”

The mention of his name from Alex’s lips felt like some kind of double betrayal to my boyfriend, to the man I loved deeply and cared for with all my heart, and soon the walls of the relatively spacious hospital room seemed to close in until I was struggling to catch my breath. I had to get out.

“You’re right, I do,” I said, pushing up from my seat all at once, my hands pressing into the mattress with almost too much force. All my grace had gone, right along with all my control, and my back tingled as a sheen of sweat began to form in its deepest curves. “I have him and I need to let him know that I’m okay. I shouldn’t be here with you. I can’t… I can’t do this right now.”

“Natalie…”

“Don’t, Alex,” I snapped firmly but quietly, looking down into his eyes as I sucked in a heavy breath. “Please don’t. I’m glad I could help today, but…” I shook my head, and my hands sank deeper into the bed, causing Nicholas’ body to move just enough to wake him up. The disturbance to his sleep had his eyes flickering open and his lips falling apart to allow a small, painful groan to fall free.

Just like that, Alex’s hand shot out to grab his father’s.

“Dad?”

“B-Beatrice?”

“No, Dad. It’s Alex. I’m here.” His fingers curled around his father’s, pulling his dad’s limp fist closer to his own chest and holding it tightly as he leaned over him. “It’s me, your son.”

“I want Beatrice,” Nicholas croaked.

“She isn’t here. You know that.” Alex’s voice was laced with pain, and all I could do was stand by and watch as the son of a dangerous man had to remind him that the wife he beat for years was no longer alive. “Mum’s gone.”

“Where?”

Alex’s eyes scrunched tight, his Adam’s apple gliding down his throat slowly and painfully as he tried to find the right words to use. “Dead, Dad. She’s gone.”

Nicholas’ eyes widened as he stared upwards and searched the ceiling for something that clearly wasn’t there. Minutes went by with no one speaking at all until his memories finally caught up with him, and his eyes filled with tears of grief. My hands came together, forming a tight ball that pressed itself into my stomach as I watched two helpless men try to guide each other along. One reminding the other of their loss, so he didn’t drown in false hope, the other trying desperately to hide his grief until it was taken completely out of his control, and a small unforgiving tear rolled out from the corner of his eye.

Moving his tongue around his dry mouth, Nicholas didn’t respond to his son, or even acknowledge I was there at all. The only word he spoke came out like it hurt for him to say it.

“Water.”

“I can… I can get that,” I whispered, hoping Nicholas wouldn’t hear it enough to look at me, but I shouldn’t have been concerned. Only the ceiling held his attention for now. I was certain it would remain that way for a while as his shame and his heartache took control, bringing a once strong man to nothing more than a weak body of muscle, bone and misery.

“No,” Alex snapped quickly, looking up at me with unshed tears in his eyes, too. “I’ll get it.”

“I don’t mind.”

Tilting his head to one side, he creased his face up in pain, and that’s when I understood. He needed to get away for a minute. He needed to be allowed to cry himself, just not in front of Nicholas.

“You go,” I mouthed to him.

“Will you stay?”

I looked away from him, unable to lie to his face, knowing he would see straight through me if I spoke a single word at all. So I gave him a small nod instead and glanced down at his father, staying perfectly still until I heard him turn around and walk from the room.

I also knew I didn’t have much time.

It wouldn’t take him long to come back, and as much as I hated having to do what I was about to do, I also had no choice. If I stuck around, there would be no going back, and nothing terrified me more than the thought of a future where Alex was around and I couldn’t have him for myself.

Not wanting to cause too much of a disturbance, I slid quietly to the end of the bed, never taking my eyes off Nicholas as he continued to stare up at the ceiling. If Alex chose to hate me for this, maybe it would be better for him. Maybe he could move on then, too, if he hadn’t already.

One thing I was absolutely certain of was that neither of us needed the other in our lives anymore.

My face and my voice were the triggers to his teenage fantasies. I knew that now, and his were the fatal punch to my emotional ruin. As our lives stood, we were bad for each other, and nothing good would ever come of that for everyone involved.

I’d made it three steps away from the door when Nicholas’ voice disturbed the eerie silence.

“The only girl who ever really stood up to me,” he groaned softly.

My back stiffened and my feet stopped moving as I kept looking forward.

“Thank you,” Nicholas said, no longer able to hide the emotion in his voice.

Looking over my shoulder slowly, I stared at him, unblinking, unsure of what to say.

He turned his head on the pillow, and his tired, defeated eyes struggled to stay open as he gazed back at me. He was unreadable in ways that made him look as though he was nothing more than a shell in this world. Maybe that’s how he felt. Maybe that’s why he drank, in order to fill himself up and feel something. I wanted to hate him, but I wanted to help him, too. The conflicting desires to flee and stay felt like my own body was about to be torn in two.

“I recognised you the moment I saw you at Cleveland’s office, the first time we went there, just before you walked away into the back room. Alex saw you, too,” he told me. “I was sober and your face reminded me of hers.”

“Whose?”

“My wife’s.”

If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, all those years ago, it would have been hard for me to believe that the man staring back at me now was capable of hurting someone he so obviously loved with every piece of his own self-destructive heart.

“You have her kind eyes, the same soft voice that cradles a sharp tongue, and the same bewitching smile.” Nicholas sucked in a breath, but it proved too much and his body bowed forward slightly as he began to choke on thin air.

“Mr. Law?” I moved closer to him, stopping as he composed himself. “I’m sorry about Beatrice,” I eventually said when he had resettled his head back down on the harsh, hospital pillow.

He looked like a child.

An overworked, under-lived child that had put his own body through the roughest, sickest assault course since the day he had been born. It wasn’t right – me wanting to comfort him. I was more than aware of that fact, but no matter how much evil I knew this man was capable of, all I could see as I stared down at him was his son.

Nicholas was a broken, used up version of Alex, with the same strong jaw line, the same defined cheekbones and the same hazel glint to his eyes.

If Alex loved him, then he mattered. He mattered to me. Even after all those years.

“I… I keep trying to end this trip,” he started, his lips barely moving as he spoke. They were so dry and cracked, the edges covered in a purple stain of old blisters and cold sores from where his immune system had begun to fail him over the years. “But it seems God thinks me living is a greater punishment for my sins than me going to rest in peace with my wife. I can’t say I disagree.”

“You don’t mean that. Don’t wish the gift of life away. Not when so many people lose it too young.” My mind went to Lizzy and I had to swallow down the anger and the injustice of everything I was witnessing right there and then. “Please, don’t say that.”

“You think I deserve to live?”

“That’s not my decision to make. Nor is it yours.”

“Then whose decision is it?”

“Whichever god you believe in.”

“Do you believe in God, Natalie?”

“I used to. That was before I lost someone dear to me. Now I don’t know what I believe in. Maybe angels.”

“Angels…” He sighed wistfully. “If you were God or an angel, would you sentence me to death?”

“No,” I whispered.

“No?”

“I would want to help make you better.”

“I hit my wife and son daily to cover up my own pain. Still to this day, I pour it out on anyone that I can to avoid recognising the emptiness in my life. I pass my shame on to those I should protect. I’m a bad man, sweetheart. I’m evil. I’m selfish. I’m that lower than low guy. Every breath I steal from this earth is another crime that will put me deeper in hell.”

My face scrunched up to try to fight off the mental images he was throwing at me, but nothing helped. The years of abuse Alex and Beatrice had suffered were too painful to imagine, yet for some reason, as I looked down on the self-proclaimed Satan himself, I could finally understand why they’d stuck around. There was a vulnerability to his evil. It sat there on the surface of his face, begging for you to pull it out, taunting you as though it was within your reach if you just tried hard enough. If you could just grab hold of it, if you could just stroke it to life and out of its shell to set it free, something wonderful would be born.

Everything would be okay.

It was an optical illusion. So near, yet so fucking far away.

“Of all my sins, though,” he started with a sigh, “I wish I could take back what I did to my son.”

My chest hurt from his admission, and in the hot cubicle of the hospital, I was sure I was about to be sick. I’d seen so many of Alex’s physical scars when we had made love. It was hard to comprehend that there could be a thousand times more emotional ones that cut even deeper.

“I’m sure he forgives you.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Forgive me…”

“What do I have to forgive you for?”

“Forbidding my son from falling in love with you the moment I knew he already had.”

Nicholas Law may as well have been standing over me as the strong man he’d once been. I felt his punch. It echoed in my gut, rattled up my spine, set off white noise in my head and shook the stability out of my feet until everything felt like jelly. “You forbade him?” I asked sharply, my face blank of expression as I struggled to find the right emotion to cling to.

“With all the power I had,” he admitted quietly.

“Why would you do that?”

Another tear fell from the corner of his eye, and Nicholas no longer had any time for pretence. This was him at his rawest, his purest, his most honest, vulnerable self, all of which showed as his lips trembled and he fought to stay in control.

“Every time I hit him, he got right back up. He was getting stronger by the day. I knew he would soon win and I was scared to lose control. For a man like me, if we give that up, we lose everything.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You were the only thing I could use to hurt him. You were someone who would never be physically strong enough to hurt me, but you had a power in you. You were his. He would protect you. He cared so much for you. I used that to make him bow down to me again, to feed my own power trip. I used it to make him miserable.”

My lips pressed together tightly and my skin prickled with angry goosebumps as my fists tightened into little balls down by my side. “You threatened to hurt me if he didn’t stay away from me, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You bastard,” I whispered.

“And you have every right to be angry, to hate me for that.”

“That would make it easier for you, wouldn’t it? If I hated you?”

“At this point, sweetheart, nothing in my life will ever be easy again. I just need you to know one thing before you leave.”

I half turned away from him, too cloaked in disgust and anger as all the pieces of the puzzle started to fall back into place before me. I’d always known he’d pushed me away because of his father, but I never knew how his father had instigated it from the start. I felt like a fool for not realising it all sooner. It was the only thing that had ever made any kind of sense.

“He loved you, Natalie. He loved you like I loved his mother, only purer, without any hint of selfishness. He loved you enough to quit you.”

“Stop it,” I growled quietly.

“He loved you with every part of his body, and I believe… I believe he still loves you now.”

“I can’t listen to this,” I choked out, refusing to look back at him or be pulled into the past all over again. I wasn’t strong enough. I never had been.

“He’s tried to get over you. He’s had so many women come and go, so many girlfriends have turned up at our door. You looked like all of them.”

“Stop. Please, stop.”

“Why do you think he’s back here? Has he told you it’s for my benefit? So I can get help? Does he really believe the lies he tells himself? No. He’s here because of you. He still loves you.”

“I’m leaving.”

“He still loves you now,” he repeated, and that’s when my feet began to move quickly. Without even thinking about Nicholas, Alex or how either of them would feel, I ran through the corridors of the hospital as quickly as I could, my tears falling behind me as I did, and the echoes of Nicholas’ voice ringing out down the halls as though it was being fed through every speaker in the building.

He still loves you now.

He still loves you now.

He still loves you now.

He still loves you now.