Still Human jh-2 Read online

  “I came straight here when I landed and dropped my bags. Connie gave me a ride to the hospital. You were in recovery after your surgery when we got there, so we just waited. It took so long, but finally they brought you back, still sleeping. I never want to feel like that again, you looked…I just never want to see you like that again.” I sigh.

  “You were there?” she asks in disbelief.

  “For a while, Max didn’t think I should be there when you woke up because he didn’t want to stress you out. So Connie and I left. We came back here and fixed this place up ready for you.” I say, gesturing at the remotes. Her eyes follow my hand and she stares at the remotes and then back at me.

  “You did all this?” she asks, her tone softening slightly.

  I nod and offer a small smile.

  “And you’ve been working…in my bar?” she says slowly.

  I nod again, afraid of saying the wrong thing.

  “Why?” she whispers.

  I hesitate. “Because, I had to do something. You wouldn’t talk to me. They are flat out downstairs and I thought…I thought it would show you I’m committed.” I sigh. “I love you, Liv. I will do anything to make you see that.”

  Fresh tears spring from her eyes and she looks away. She tries to compose herself and silently shakes her head in disbelief.

  “So you’ve been here this whole time?…and everyone knows?” she asks, slowly piecing it all together.

  “Yes,” I admit, reluctantly.

  Liv shakes her head. “I can’t believe it.”

  “But only because I didn’t want to push you while you were going through so much.” I almost touch her again, I don’t think she notices. It feels so wrong not to comfort her and find out how she is doing after the accident. I feel like it’s none of my business, but I have to ask. “How are you?” I glance at her leg, which is still propped up and wrapped in a big bandage.

  She looks at it too. “It’s okay, I just have to keep it up as much as possible and I’m not allowed to put any weight on it at all…wait, I can’t do this.” She says putting her hands through her hair in frustration, revealing a huge bruise and a run of stitches close to her hairline. I wince. “We can’t just sit here and have a normal conversation, we're not talking, we broke up.” She sighs.

  I wait, because if I say the wrong thing now, I could be finished. She finally looks at me again, so I seize my chance. Sitting forward, I look her straight in the eye. “If you tell me to go, I will.” It’s a gamble. But it will force her hand. She maintains my stare, but says nothing. All I can hear is the sound of my heart pounding as I wait for her to respond. She almost scoffs as if she thinks I have some nerve, but still, she says nothing. Then I decide she’s had enough time to throw me out, I take the lead. “I’ll get us some drinks then,” I say with as much confidence as I can find. Then without looking at her I walk out the door.

  As the door shuts behind me, I let out the breath that I’ve been holding. FUCK! I mouth. I’m playing with fire. But I thought a short break would do us both good before we talk. She needs to process this and I could do with some air. Pull yourself together Danny. I start down the stairs, a smile growing on my face and by the time I get to the door, I’m grinning from ear to ear. I head across the garden, resisting the temptation to whistle as I go. I collect some glasses that are in my path and drop them in the kitchen as I pass.

  “Where have you been?” asks Max as I arrive behind the bar.

  “Upstairs,” I say, casually and watch with satisfaction as the disbelief engulfs his face.

  His mouth drops open and while he deals with the information, I reach past him and take two glasses, fill them with ice and drop a wedge of lime in each. When I glance back at Max, he smiles an uncertain smile.

  “How is she taking it?” he asks.

  “Okay, well she hasn’t told me to leave yet. I thought I would get us a drink so we can talk and I think she needed a break to process the fact that I’m here.” I grab a bottle of rum from beneath the bar. “She can drink now, right?” I check, holding up the bottle for approval.

  “Uh-huh.” He nods and hands me two bottles of Coke, which I tuck into my pockets, I pick up a bottle opener and tuck it in with one of the bottles, then take two more Cokes and the rum in one hand and the glasses in the other.

  “Can you manage without me?” I ask, knowing he wouldn’t stop me even if they couldn’t.

  A huge smile erupts on his face. “Go!” he commands.

  I roll my eyes at the suggestion he’s making. “It’s just talking Max, we are a long way from that.”

  The nerves set in again as I make my way up the stairs. I hope she’ll talk to me. When I open the door, she is no longer sitting on the sofa. “Liv?” I call out, concerned that she’s left. The bathroom door opens and Liv emerges looking more composed. She has straightened herself out, but I pretend not to notice.

  I put the drinks down on the coffee table and get the bottles out of my pocket.

  “Here, let me help you,” I say, pulling her footstool aside so that she can sit down.

  “It’s fine, I can manage.” She sulks. That’s my Liv, she hates being fussed over. I remember when she had her tonsils removed when we were kids. She was a terrible patient.

  “Took a guess,” I say, showing her the rum.

  “I haven’t had a drink in two weeks,” she says.

  “Just a Coke then?’

  “No, I’ll have one.”

  While I pour, she says nothing, just watches, then I hand her the drink. She takes it without a word and takes a long sip. A satisfied sigh escapes as she enjoys the warmth of the rum so, for a moment, I just let her relax. This is absurd, we can’t do small talk, but I don’t know how or where to start. She hasn’t even said I’m welcome as such. I’m just going by the fact that she hasn’t thrown me out yet.

  She surprises me by opening the conversation. “So why didn’t you say you knew about this?” she asks, pointing at her leg.

  I look down at my glass. “Because you made Max promise not to tell me, even though it was too late. He didn’t want you to be upset with him too, with all you had going on.”

  Liv makes a sound, like pft. Shaking her head. “But you could have said something in one of your hundreds of messages.” She accentuates the word ‘hundreds’ and rolls her eyes.

  “By then I was already here and I knew you wouldn’t let me help you. I thought it would be better you didn’t know, so I could do stuff to help behind the scenes. Then I guess I just held out, hoping I could convince you to talk to me."

  "So you think you've convinced me?"

  "I'm not assuming anything, but you didn't throw me out...yet.”

  “Well the night is young,” she says with this tiniest hint of humor in her voice. Then she forces a smile, which makes me laugh.

  We sit for a while in silence, I was expecting a screaming match or something, but there is nothing.

  “This isn’t how I was expecting this to go,” I admit quietly. She looks confused, so I continue. “I thought there would be yelling.”

  She kind of laughs. “I didn’t think this would ever even happen.” She shrugs. “So I really had no preconceived idea of how it should ‘go’.” The sarcasm oozes from her as she spits the words at me.

  The silence once again descends. This is so frustrating.

  “Seeing as you have the advantage and you have thought it all through, perhaps you ought to do the talking.”

  “How do I have the advantage?” I ask, mystified as to how she could think that I’m somehow winning in this situation.

  “Well you at least knew you were here. I’ve been kept in the dark,” she snaps.

  I sigh. “I wasn’t keeping you in the dark to get the advantage. I was waiting for the right time so that you didn’t feel cornered.”

  “Well, just so that you know,” she says, “you failed.”

  “Listen, you could tell me to leave.” I remind her, trying to keep the frustration out of
my voice. She shakes her head at me and scoffs, she knows I wouldn’t leave without a fight now that I’m here, but I’m trying to make her feel like she’s in control of how and when we talk.

  She stares at an arbitrary point on the wall. Then she looks back to me. “You thought there would be yelling?” she wonders aloud.

  “Sure.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you are understandably angry.” I look at her and she looks away. I summon all my courage. “So…the fact there is no yelling tells me one of two things.” I wait for her reaction; she looks back at me and folds her arms. “Number one,” I continue. “You don’t care about us anymore, at all and there is nothing left to say.” I take a deep breath. “Or number two, you believe me. But you are afraid to say it.”

  She watches me.

  “So if it’s the first one, you should tell me.” I say as firmly as I’m capable of. This could really backfire…

  “Why should I?” she challenges.

  “Because, I’ll never give up on us. But if you really have, then I need to know.”

  She rubs her forehead. “I can’t deal with this.”

  My shoulders sag, have I gone too far? Wondering what to do for the best, I absentmindedly sit forward and reach my hand out to hers. She flinches as our fingers touch and I almost recoil when I realise what I’m doing. But she doesn’t pull her hand away so I gently take her fingers in mine and stroke my thumb across the back of her hand. She begins to cry again.

  “I love you so much,” I whisper.

  She sobs.

  I feel awful for her. This is not something she can handle right now and I’m making it worse. “This is too much for you. It’s not fair of me to burst in with no warning. I should give you some time to process everything…The problem is, I don’t want to leave you alone like this.” I reach into my back pocket and pull out my cell. Liv looks at me.

  I text Max.

  ‘Can you come up?’

  I glance up at Liv, who is still watching me. “You need someone to hold you right now and as much as it hurts, that really can’t be me. I'll go cover for Max and give you some space.” She nods through the tears. “I really want to talk about this. But only when you’re ready.” I stress. "I'll lay off for a while, you need a break." I feel terrible about the way I’ve pursued her while she’s in such a weak state.

  After a quiet and slightly tense couple of minutes, I hear Max’s footsteps on the stairs. I slowly get to my feet.

  “Bye,” I say softly.

  Liv doesn’t respond. I meet Max at the top of the stairs.

  “How is she?” he asks. His voice lowered.

  “In shock, I think. She really needs comfort right now and I’m not the right person to give it. Can you stay with her?”

  “Sure. Are you okay?” he asks, his concern is genuine.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. She didn’t throw me out, that’s more than I expected,” I grin despite everything.

  “You’re doing well,” he says slapping me on the back.

  I smile. “I’ll go back to work, look after her.” I say with a hint of regret.

  “I will,” he says over his shoulder as he opens the door.

  Just after midnight. Max joins me at the bar. “She’s asleep,” he says.

  “Is she okay?” I ask.

  “She’s fine. Shocked is an understatement.” He laughs. “But she’ll be okay.”

  “What should I do next?” I ask, genuinely uncertain of how to proceed.

  “See how she is tomorrow. Maybe let her approach you.” He shrugs. “You may have to wait a bit, but you’re not going anywhere are you.”

  I nod slowly. I wish I could be certain she would approach me. It makes me nervous to think about not pursuing her. What if that’s it? If she doesn’t come to me, it would be over for good. I’m not ready to let that happen. But tonight I’ve made good progress. She knows I’m here and she didn’t hit the roof. I should graciously accept that and try to build on it. I’ll just have to see what tomorrow brings.

  Chapter Eight

  Danny

  I wanted your opinion on some wallpaper samples.

  My fingers type quickly. I’m using the morning to catch up on work. It takes my mind off the fact that Max and Charlie are having brunch with Liv, almost certainly discussing me, and I have to keep away. I’m no longer in hiding, but I want to maintain a respectful distance until she tells me otherwise. Until I’m invited, I will carry on with my previous routine. She will never know I’m here.

  I yawn as I wait for a file to load. I’m so tired. I guess I haven’t caught up with my jet lag yet. I’ve changed time zones so many times lately, I’ve no normal to try to return to. Before I came back, I was keeping terrible hours, working hard, trying to forget Liv. Then I was sick with worry and hit the ground running when I arrived. I’ve been doing two jobs, both with demandingly long hours and I’m spending every spare second attempting to get through to Liv. It has been exhausting. I hardly slept last night, going over everything in my head. My body aches from tiredness.

  I push away from the desk, stand up and stretch. I look longingly at the cosy bed. I should try and sleep. I’m not needed anywhere and if Liv does want to talk later, I won’t be up to it if I’m this tired. I look back at the computer guiltily, how productive am I really being? I’ve done plenty and I’m way ahead. I crash onto the welcoming bed but just lay staring at the ceiling. This is the problem. I go to bed but nothing happens. That’s why I’ve been working so much, because if I’m awake I need to be occupied or I start to think, then I just beat myself up for the giant fuck-up of the past few weeks.

  Here it comes… First, I kick myself for not being totally honest with Liv about Brooke. If I had, she would know I have nothing to hide and we wouldn’t have a problem now. Next, I beat myself up for adding to the problem, by not admitting I’d made a mistake and continuing to hide more and more stuff about Brooke from Liv. That is why she doesn’t trust me, it’s totally my fault. Then I curse myself for being so self-centred that I couldn’t or wouldn’t see the real reason she left me. I wallowed in self-pity for a week and didn’t give her feelings a single thought. I felt wronged so I wasted time. I should have been here and the accident would never have happened. Yes, the accident is my fault too and then, despite the fact that I rushed to be by her side, I’ve not actually had the guts to force my way back in. Max has been really supportive, but he’s been insistent on me, giving Liv enough space. I should have been by her bedside when she woke up instead of sneaking out like a criminal.

  I stare at the ceiling. The pity party passes fairly quickly, after all, I’ve been rehashing it all for days and days. I can go through the motions in record time now. But then I’m left empty. I feel no better for taking responsibility for it all. It means nothing unless Liv forgives me. If she won’t, I’ve no idea what I’ll do with my life.

  I wish I could talk to Jen. She’s well-practiced at the pep talk I need right now. She’s been doing it every day, since I got here. She knows what to say to pick me up. She was over the moon last night when I called after my shift to tell her that I’d seen Liv. She thinks I did the right thing leaving her to process everything and she agrees with Max that I should let her come to me now. But it’s eating me up, what if she doesn’t? I need Jen to convince me again now, but she will be sleeping. God damned time differences. Why does life have to be so hard? I haven’t questioned coming here to be with Liv. But now that I’m here and she won’t see me, I miss Jen so much.

  Max and Charlie have been so great. They’ve really welcomed me and that has made things easier. They’ve put me up and made sure I feel at home. I have a nice room, which is more like a hotel suite and you can tell that they love having guests to take care of. I think Max is a great friend to Liv, but he’s become my friend too. It’s meant the world to have him behind me through this ordeal. As my thoughts spin in their irritating circles, I finally drift into a distressingly anxious sleep.

&nb
sp; Stirring awake, I suddenly sit up. I glance around the room, although for what I don’t know. I feel like the whole atmosphere in here has changed, like while I was sleeping, someone came in and shook everything up. I jump up, in search of the source. What has changed? Charlie is working at his desk when I walk past his office.

  “You’re back?” I look at my watch. It’s almost 16:00, of course he is back. “How is she?” I ask hesitantly, fearing his answer.

  “She’s okay,” he replies just as hesitantly.

  “What? What’s happened? What did she say?” I feel the panic rising.

  “We just talked it through,” he says simply. “Don’t panic.” He smiles slightly. “Talk to her.”

  “I wish it were that simple,” I say, running my fingers through my hair. “Where’s Max?”

  “He went back in early. Do you want something to eat before you go?” I give him a tight smile, I really appreciate his hospitality.

  “I’ll grab something there.” I shake my head. “Thanks though.” I wander into the living room. The air is different in here to. More positive I think. Maybe it’s just having a sleep, but even as I think it I know that’s not true. I’ve had dreadful, restless sleep with hopeless dreams since she left. I dream that she is just out of reach, different scenarios all with the same result play out every time I manage to close my eyes, so I know I can’t thank any amount of sleep for making things feel lighter this afternoon. I shrug it off and pour myself a glass of water in the super-modern kitchen. I keep forgetting the ice-cold filtered water dispenser in the refrigerator door. I just go to the sink like a normal person.

  I saunter back into my room to change my clothes for work tonight. I don’t bother showering, I will need one later anyway, Saturday nights in the bar leave a stain or two. I slide my Lady Luck’s shirt on and look at myself in the mirror as I pull it straight. It makes me feel close to her to wear this, I know that’s ridiculous, but when I think about being part of something she created I feel proud, whether she wants me to or not. Also, the fact that I’m proving that I don’t ever want to be anywhere but here with her, gives me a slight sense of satisfaction.