Her Heavy Cross

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I looked back at him, furious. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Because you're my fucking girlfriend." He was also mad now.

"I'm not your fucking girlfriend." I stood up and got out of the bath. I almost slipped on the tiles as I did. His hand shot out to steady me, but I pulled my arm out of his grasp. I stomped over to the robes and pulled one on. Then I grabbed my clothes from the floor.

"What are you doing?" Liam asked, getting out himself. He didn't put his robe on, and he just stood there. I don't know why, but that seemed to make me angrier.

"Getting my shit and going home."

"What the fuck, Lana? Why?"

I grabbed my bag and went to leave and found him blocking my way. "Because I want to, that's why. Get out of my way."

"What's wrong with you?"

"Just piss off."

"No, tell me what's wrong. Why don't you want to be seen with me? Why don't you want to be my girlfriend? I don't understand." He was shouting now, his voice full of anger and frustration. "You treat me like a fuck toy one minute, and the next, you're treating me like we've been married for ten years. What do you want from me? You say you aren't my girlfriend, but you sure act like you are. If you just want to fuck me, fine. Come over and fuck me, then leave. But don't lay with me and cuddle all day, cook me food, confide in me, talk to me at night until you fall asleep and make me fall in love with you. I can't take that."

For a moment, I softened. In so many ways, Liam was right. We had fallen into this relationship so easily. I felt like I knew him because we talked for months before meeting. I did enjoy hanging out with him talking. He's often felt like home to me, a safe place, a person I could trust. He was my boyfriend in everything but name. He saw the change in me and moved towards me.

I stiffened, "No, fuck you. Don't put this on me. I told you to go slow. I told you I don't want a relationship in the spotlight, and you won't listen to me." My frustration poured out. "You lured me in under false pretences with no thought about how I would feel. Like having the great Liam Cross interested in you would be enough. You're so fucking self-centred. I'm not impressed by all this," I waved my hand around the room, "Or that," I waved my hand at his naked body. "For fuck's sake, put some fucking clothes on. You're not that attractive."

Liam looked over at the robes and saw how far away they were. He shook his head. "I think we need to talk, Lana. You can't run away from this."

"You can't keep me here." He just raised an eyebrow. I gasped horrified. "You wouldn't?"

His body tensed, and he looked like he was going to try to stop me for a minute. But then his shoulders slumped, and he stepped aside.

"Thank you," I said through gritted teeth as I walked out.

I took the stairs down to his room and got dressed. He followed me, still naked and dripping water. I thought he would try to keep talking to me, but he went straight to his dressing room.

When he came out, he wore tracksuit pants, his chest was bare, and he still had beads of water clinging to his chest. My traitorous eyes looked him up and down, and I noticed it looked like he wasn't wearing underwear. Fuck me. He was magnificent. I tore my eyes away and back to packing my bag. I wasn't going to let his body distract me.

"Please, Lana, just talk to me."

"What's the point?"

"The point is so you'll let me in. You talk to me, you tell me things about you, and just as it cuts close to the bone, you clam up."

"I'm my own person, Liam. I'm allowed to have secrets." My bag was packed, and I stood up with it.

"Why didn't you tell me about Andy and your father's car accident? I had to read about it on the fucking internet."

I felt like I had been punched in the guts. I felt both hot and cold waves flow over me, and for a moment, I thought I was going to throw up.

"You're a fucking prick." I was raging.

"Alright, Lana, have it your way. Go back to being miserable and alone. Go put your wedding ring back on because obviously, you'd rather stay in love with a dead man than be seen with me." He was still shouting. Liam's body was taught, so much tension in his muscles. His lips almost looked cruel, twisted up into a sneer. His eyebrows were drawn low, making his eyes seem small.

"Yeah, you're right. I would. I shouldn't be here with you." I was near screaming now. I was irrational, tired, slightly drunk and drained. "I should be miserable and alone, and I should be thankful for that. It's my fucking fault he's dead. I fucking killed him. It should have been me. It's my fault..." I sobbed. The tears started, and I knew they couldn't be stopped. "Oh God, it's my fault." I couldn't breathe. I dropped my bag and clawed at my shirt, trying to get a breath. I was on my knees, now fighting the panic that threatened to overwhelm me.

Liam's arms came around me. I tried to push him away, fight him. He was too strong. "Shhhh shhh." He tried to soothe me. He rubbed my back. I wanted to scream at him to go away, to leave me alone. He wouldn't let go. He held me tighter until I couldn't fight anymore and just let myself go. He pulled me onto his lap, and I curled up into him as he whispered, "You're ok. It's ok." I kept sobbing until I clutched at his neck and cried into him.

I don't know how long we sat there. It felt like hours. "I'm sorry," I said when I had calmed. My throat was sore. I don't think I could have spoken any louder.

"Don't be. I shouldn't have pushed you. You were right. I was being selfish."

"I should have told you before you found out. It still hurts. I can deal with them being gone, but I can't get past the guilt. I should have been in the car with Dad. Andy was doing me a favour because I was too tired from Christmas. I wanted a day off, you know? A day where I didn't have to deal with people." My throat was feeling raw, and my mouth was dry.

"You don't have to tell me."

"No, I do. Just let me get through it, ok?" He nodded and pulled me into a more comfortable position on his lap. "I was supposed to take my Dad to Dave's house for a second Christmas. My parents had split up a couple of years ago. I fought with my mum the day before and didn't want to go through it all again the next day. My Dad couldn't drive anymore; his eyes were too bad. So Andy said he'd drop him off and I could stay in bed. He said he would tell them I had a migraine. So I laid in bed sleeping while my father and husband laid on the road, dying, trapped under a truck."

"I'm so sorry," Liam said. "I don't know how I would deal with that either. But it's not your fault. You know that, right?"

I didn't say anything. Liam was quiet after that. But he didn't let me go.

Authors note:

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