Chapter 9
Elle
Elle raised the garland of paper rings up a little higher, deepening the dip between one end and the other. “This look right?” She asked, looking over her shoulder.
Grandma Ina eyed the scene, then nodded. Taping the paper into place, Elle came down from the small stool and looked around the room.
“This place hasn't looked so festive since your tenth birthday party!” Grandma Rosa called from the kitchen. She was mixing drinks, all of them alcoholic. She was right. Elle had been worried that they wouldn't be able to decorate or do anything to prepare for Troy's birthday party, but then he went on a run.
She hoped he would forgive her after this. It was, admittedly, almost too much to ask of him. She had been a real bitch, building up a wall around her, and she wasn't sure why.
That's not true. I know why. It's because he reminds me of my bullies from high school. Tall, dark, handsome, a bad boy that treats me badly. Those were the boys I had crushes on, and those crushes were the gateway to truly making my life miserable.
She shook her head, chastising herself for dwelling in the past. Troy didn't do anything to her, not since the day they first met. She had to stop letting her emotions get the best of her, and soon. He was her husband, as strange as that was.
“You know, Elle, I think you two should start considering when you want to start trying for a child.” Grandma Ina said. She was sitting on the couch, looking out the window.
“What?” Elle replied, hoping against all hope that she misheard.
“Great grandbabies. Rosa and I were talking about them. We'd like to see at least one more child in our family before we die. Admittedly we're quite young, since we had our children young and they had theirs young, too. But we won't be around forever, dear, and part of having a child is having the wisdom of your elders passed to you.”
Elle sat down on the floor, ready to pout. “You could write a book.”
Rosa chuckled from the doorway into the kitchen. “That's not really how it works, my dear. You don't learn until you're truly in the trenches. Obviously you and Troy have to discuss it, but we hope you'll decide to have children soon.”
Elle wanted to be sick. Even if she was willing to be nicer to Troy, that didn't mean she wanted to have kids with him. So why did the thought make her heart thump against her chest and bring a tiny smile to her face?
“He'll be back soon, no doubt. Should we shut off the lights and hide?” Grandma Rosa asked. Elle's heart fluttered in her chest at the thought of seeing Troy, but she wasn't sure why.
“Sure, let's hide.” Elle helped Grandma Ina to the stairs, where she could hide in the small room beneath them. It was used as a closet, but never very full. It had a pile of blankets that Ina could sit on.
Grandma Rosa chose a spot in the kitchen, pressed up against the wall. She was giggling like a school girl. That woman always loved birthday parties, but had so few to plan since Elle was her only grandchild.
Elle looked outside, and sure enough, Troy was running down the road with Roman. Troy was talking to the dog through his labored breaths, though she couldn't hear what he was saying. Since they were coming closer, she hid behind her dad's chair and waited for the light to turn on.
Rosa's giggling quieted once she heard keys hit the door handle. “You're going to get so many treats today! Yes you are, boy!” The door opened slowly and Roman bounded in, followed by Troy. “It's dark as balls in here. Hang on, Roman, come back.”
The light flipped on. Elle took a deep breath, then jumped up. “Surprise! Happy birthday!” They all cried.
Troy stood stock still, staring at her for longer than he should. He just stood and stared.
“Troy?” She said, stepping away from the chair. Ina and Rosa stepped forward too.
His left eye twitched, and then with a gasp he was on his hands and knees on the floor, crawling towards the stairs. “Oh fuck! Bill, come on, you're gonna make it. Jesus Christ that's you're hand.” He recoiled at nothing on the floor. Roman followed him as he made it to the stairs.
“Troy! What's wrong,” Elle asked, moving closer to him.
“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Troy answered, pretending to drag something heavy up the first step. “Jesus, Bill, you're bleeding everywhere.” He laughed. “You'll be fine, come on.”
The display carried all the way up the stairs, where it suddenly stopped. Troy stayed on the floor at the top of the stairs, and then sobbed, a deep, horrible sob.
“What did we do?” Elle asked, turning on Ina. “Did you know he would react like this?” Everything was going all wrong, and she didn't even have the option to freak out. She had to fix it. She had to fix the damage she had done to poor Troy.
This was her fault, and she knew it.
“No! Of course I didn't, I would never want to hurt my grandson. Go to him, Elle. Go to him now.” Grandma Ina took Grandma Rosa's hand, and they gave each other a worried look before turning the emotion on Elle.
How was she supposed to fix a major breakdown like that? She didn't even know what could have caused it. It was obvious it was something from his time in the army, but she wasn't a therapist. What was she supposed to do.
“Go be kind to him, Elle. Show him you care, but don't force him into anything,” Grandma Rosa said. “Your grandfather had episodes like that, when he came home from the war. Go be quiet with him. Listen to him. Do as he says, like a good wife should when her husband is hurting.”
Be a good wife? She was barely a wife at all, she realized, and didn't know what being a good wife even meant, but she would have to try.
Elle bounded up the stairs until she was at his side, but when she touched him he slapped her hand away. “Stay away from me,” the words were barely audible, but the message was clear. “Just stay away.” His voice was full of fear and hate and something else, something she couldn't place.
Her heart cracked then. It didn't shatter, it just cracked with a million lines, and she realized suddenly that Troy was more to her than she thought. He was more to her, but he didn't want her. She had screwed things up worse than she even expected, had broken him somehow.
Troy stood and glanced to Elle. His eyes were not kind. “I'm going to bed.” He left them, dumbfounded.
Troy
His vision seemed to pulsate with each beat of his heart. He just relived the single worst day of his life, and on top of that, he lashed out at Elle. He fucked things up, again.
“God damn it!” He roared, punching into the bed. The women downstairs were cleaning up, and soon they left. All but Elle. The house was silent.
I should just leave, he thought. It's not safe for me to be around Elle. I don't want to have another flashback and accidentally hurt her. I don't want to reenact my war stories in front of her.
He sighed, still crying. I'm so thoroughly broken that I can't even keep from reliving the war. He wished, then, only that he could control himself. Control his mind, his emotions, his memories. But he was too broken, too destroyed by his time in the army.
Now Elle will never be able to love me. He stopped, looking at himself in the small mirror across from the bed. Did that bother him? That she would never love him? I guess it does. I never really noticed, but I actually really like her. She's tough and beautiful, and so smart.
He laid down, thinking about her. About how she would react if he ever said that to her. It probably would not go over very well. He smiled, thinking about kissing her face. Wishing she would come and kiss him.
It ached in him, the desire to be loved by her. He wished for her comforting presence, the feel of her soft hands along his abs. And God, he wished for her arms to wrap around his neck and hold him close to her beating heart.
Stop it, he thought. These thoughts will only make things worse. She could never be interested in me, not after that horrifying display. Now she knows that I'm a fucking mess, and there's no turning back.
I should just leave.
The thought made him cringe. Leaving didn't solve problems, but it did make them easier to bear. Not seeing her face every day would make it so much easier to be in love with someone who would never love him back.
He wanted so desperately to touch her. The yearning mixed with the flood of memories he was still dealing with off and on made him dizzy, and the emotional pain felt very physical. Like his heart was having a seizure. Like someone was hammering something sharp into his skull. Like his teeth itched.
A buzz in his pants alerted him to a text. It was Sam, asking where he was. That something so small could bring Troy back to reality amazed him, as the pulsating in his eyes faded away and the world felt real again.
You coming?
He thought about what he would say. Would Sam want to put up with his bullshit anymore than Elle? He had to lean on someone, though.
Elle surprised me with a birthday party. Sent me into an episode, where I relived everything. I'm fucked up right now. Sure you still want to hang out with me?
He pressed send, and looked out of his window over the tops of the houses in their neighborhood. There was no way he could blame Elle for his own problems. That would be wrong, and shifting the blame sucks. He would have to take full responsibility and apologize before he left, if Sam still wanted to hang out.
Dude I'll come get you right now if you want. Just say the word. You shouldn't be alone, so if your girl isn't helping, let me know.
Smiling, Troy was about to take Sam up on the offer when there was a knock on his door.
“Troy? Can I come in, please?” It was Elle. Her voice was muffled behind the door, but he could still tell it was filled with emotions.
Troy stood, pressing his whole body on the door while he thought. He didn't know what to say. “I don't think you should,” he said.
“Why not? Are you mad at me?”
Troy was quiet for a long time. Why would she think he was mad at her? She did something nice to him, though it was misguided. It wasn't her fault she didn't know he was thoroughly fucked up.
“Okay. I'll leave you alone. I'll be in my room if you want to talk.”
God, she sounded miserable. Swinging the door open, he caught her arm. “Sorry. I was just trapped in my head. I'm not mad at you. I'm just...”
She had been crying. Knowing that made Troy want to punch himself in his goddamn face.