Stirring in bed, I keep my eyes closed. My head is pounding with the aftermath headache from my panic attack, and the urge to stay here all day almost consumes me.
“Good Morning”
I jump at the sound of his voice, jolting upright in bed and springing my eyes open. I instantly wince as the early morning sun streams in through the window. I yank the covers up higher, although I’m wearing an oversized top, I feel exposed from him being in my bedroom. Turning my gaze towards the direction from which his voice came, I see him. Wearing last night clothes that are now dry, sat in my armchair with his arms crossed over his chest. My subconscious had forgotten that he was here, but I hadn’t expected him to actually stay. Mahogany hair a slight mess, dark circles beneath the vast oceans of blue, did he sleep at all? My mind jogs the memories of last night and I instantly feel ashamed.
“Did you stay here all night?” my voice is cracked from sleep, and dry from not having anything to drink.
“There’s coffee there for you” he says, pointing at the steaming mug on my bedside table and ignoring my question. I shuffle a little before grabbing it, cradling its warmth between my palms.
“Thank you” I take a sip, savoring the slight burn it leaves around my mouth.
“Yes, I stayed. I didn’t want to leave you”
“You didn’t have to do that” I reply, keeping my eyes firmly away from his. I know what I’ll see there, and I can’t bear the thought of him pitying me. A few seconds pass of me avoiding his gaze and pretending like the coffee in my hands holds more of my interest than he does.
“Amelia, look at me”
I close my eyes, wishing for nothing more than for him to disappear. How could I have let myself be so vulnerable last night? I hate myself for ever telling him so much, for giving him so much ammunition to use against me.
“You can go”
I hear him suck in a harsh breath, shuffling in the fat silence that’s filling my bedroom.
“Amelia, don’t be like that” his commanding voice sounds too loud in this already full space.
“Please Liam, just go” my voice is breathless, but it comes out harsh. I hate how bitchy I’m being, but I can’t deal with his pitying eyes today. Why the hell did I ask him to stay last night? I see him stand out of the corner of my eye, and I want nothing more than for him to tell me to stop talking and hold me. But I need to hold on to some of my self-respect. My stupid mouth not wanting to cooperate, has already said the words and I instantly regret them. I see him move but if I look I know I’ll falter and ask him to stay.
“I’ll leave, but don’t think I don’t know that you really want me to stay. Call me if you need anything” he urged that last part before turning on his heel and walking away. The slam of my front door alerts me to his exit and I instantly start to cry. Why did you ask him to leave?
The buzzing of my phone snaps me out of my thoughts a few minutes later, hope settles into my chest that it’s Liam. I want nothing more than to plead with him to come back. Grabbing it from the side table I see it’s Becca. Of course, it isn’t him, why would he call me after I threw him out. I suck in a few breaths, dry my tears with the sleeve of my top and answer.
“Hello?”
“Where the fuck have you been?” she yells so I pull the phone away slightly. Reminded instantly that I hadn’t text her last night.
“Shit” I sigh, “Sorry, I totally forgot. I’m fine” I take another swig of my coffee and hear her pull in a breath on the other end of the line.
“Mia?” she asks quietly.
“I had a panic attack” I say, almost instantly bursting into tears. Becca knows how much they piss me off, and how each one seems to get worse. No amount of anxiety pills or magic potions seem to help them.
“Oh, Mia. Do you need me to come over?” she questions, I can hear the sympathy in her tone, but she knows better than to be that way around me.
“No, honestly. Liam stayed the night” I offer, not knowing what that really means. Why did he stay? Wouldn’t the average joe have run like lightening in the opposite direction? What man wants such a broken woman anyway?
“Oh?”
“Nothing happened. We talked, after he helped me through my attack. God, he was so nice Bec, too nice”
“Well, I think he’s turned your view of him around” she says quietly.
“I told him to leave this morning, why did I do that? He was too fucking nice to me last night. I couldn’t stand the way he was looking at me”
“Mia” she admonishes. “Don’t worry about that now, you can deal with him later. Did he at least make you feel any better?” she questions.
I don’t tell her about the whole shower situation, I don’t want her to know just how pathetic I am, I don’t care if she’s my best friend. I huff out a breath and recall how he held me. If he’d wanted to have sex with me he would have pushed for it wouldn’t he? Like those men that use women when they’re at their most vulnerable. But he didn’t. He stayed, cuddled, listened to everything I had to say. And I sent him away.
“He did, he helped a lot. He was kind, and I sent him away like it meant fuck all to me”
“Well, maybe you can send him a text or call him to explain later. Right now, you’re a big girl, get up, showered and just chill out for today. You call me if you need anything”
Her last words merge into Liam’s and I feel even worse. But Becca’s right, I need to get up and move to get over this funk.
“I will, thanks Bec. I’ll speak to you later” I hang up, throwing my phone on the bed and placing my now empty cup to the side.
After I shower and change I head into the living room, binge watch some rubbish Sunday Tv and by late afternoon I’ve successfully eaten my body weight in ice cream and wallowed in enough self-pity for the whole of London. Why did I divulge every little secret to him last night? No amount of doctor’s visits, suggestions of counselling, pills and no pills have fucking helped my attacks. No way was I going to sit in a room with some, know it all shrink and spill my dirtiest secret. Maybe I can just avoid him forever. Are you kidding? He’s going to be avoiding you now you head case. Grunting I push out from the nest I’d created on the sofa, sick of feeling sorry for myself. Going to the window, I watch as the world continues to spin.
The city is basking in an orangey hue from the nearly setting sun, lights starting to flicker in the buildings surrounding mine. I wonder where he is, what he’s doing? People mull about on the street below, cars whiz past as if nothing has happened. The world doesn’t stop moving because something shitty happened to you. Karma doesn’t work like that. My blood begins to boil at the thought that I’m still allowing myself to suffer from the life I was handed. You changed that, look around you. The same voice wills me into my room, changing into my running gear and psyching myself to get the fuck over this episode.
∞ ∞ ∞
Breathing heavy, I stretch out my sore limbs in the lift on the way back up to my flat. My lungs burn from pushing myself too hard, but my body feels deliciously languid. My cheeks are flushed from the ice-cold wind mixed with my too high body temperature, and loose strands of my dark hair that have freed themselves from my ponytail stick to my sweaty face. Guzzling the whole bottle of water, I’d grabbed from the fridge, I head back to my shower, letting the steamy water burn my skin, washing away any of the panic attack that was left. I’d shoved the images of Liam on the tiled floor to the side, not wanting to remember how nice he was to me. I know I sound stupid and ungrateful, but the truth is I’m terrified of the opposite. Afterwards I felt slightly more in control again, just where I needed to be. My aching muscles wanted nothing more than an early night, and I couldn’t be happier to oblige. Back to normal tomorrow, back to ruling my empire. Everyone could fuck up, everyone did. The only thing that ever really matters is you bouncing back. Well here I am.