THIRTY

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Human psychology has always intrigued me. Growing up in the background I did make me sit sometimes and wonder what makes my mum and dad tick. My dad not so much, he's always been looser in his beliefs than my mum, but he's always been the one to roll over and do whatever she wanted. Though now I'm older, I wonder more about what makes him be like that rather than stick up for himself – and me.

I always wonder what the reason is for my mum's strict beliefs. One of the bible verses says: 'The Lord has made everything for its purpose, even the wicked for the day of trouble.' Every Church of England believer I know has said that God does everything for a purpose, so I have always wondered why my mum is such a devout believer, who would force her child into marriage for the sake of protecting her.

I still don't know the reason, but I would love to know.

Joel twirls a pen around his fingers, probably to show off that he can do it after months of struggling with simply holding something. I'm proud of him; my heart bursts at the sight of it because I want nothing more than for him to do normal things people like me or Summer, or Monica would take for granted. But for now, it's irritating me because it's diverting him from discussing this with me.

"Joel, I... I just want us to be okay. I don't want this to be full of hatred and betrayal. I just want us to be best friends, like we always have been," I say.

He finally stops twirling the pen and looks at me. There's something dark yet familiar flowing between us.

Somehow, I thought I knew what made Joel tick. We've been 'together' for two years, despite our romantic relationship never taking off, being married to each other and going through what we have has made us closer than I ever thought we would. I thought we knew each other and what made each other do the things we do. I thought I knew how he would feel happiest at home with a video game and homemade meal. Mostly, I thought he was this super ambitious man who would do anything to make sure other people were happy around him.

I thought he was a man so marred by his father's suicide that he wouldn't lie.

But it turns out my interest in psychology is merely that, an interest. I don't know anything about Joel, it seems. He didn't see me as his equal in anything, whereas I did with him. I would always share things with him from stupid things like my awful day to big things like how I thought we should've moved once we graduated and make a fresh start.

Maybe it isn't as easy as understanding basic human psychology as I thought. Maybe to really understand someone you need to know everything: their past, their wants and needs, their psychology, and their future goals. I just didn't know enough about Joel.

"We are, Aspen. I just—this isn't as easy as you make out, all right?" Joel responds.

"Then tell me, tell me everything. About Summer, about your dad and the illness. I know you'll tell me it won't change anything, and I know it won't, but tell me now. I don't want to leave here thinking we're not okay," I say. "I'm sorry I've been so angry and haven't understood. I'm sorry about Nick, and I'm sorry I blew off and told you yesterday. It's not my place. It just still hurts because it's taken all of this for me to realise my view of love isn't what it should be, you know? I love you, you're my best friend. But until you got ill, I thought I was in love with you, so it got confused."

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