Memories That Still Haunt Us

Chapter Fifty-Eight:

Birds are beginning to chirp outside. The sun is about to rise. My legs are in his lap as we continue drinking. He's drunk, and his guard is down as he lays his head back against the couch. I hardly remember getting home now. When I try to think about it, the memory is fuzzy. Floating fragments in the air that I can't seem to put together.

            We're both tired and both incredibly intoxicated, but neither of us sleeps. Instead, we've been talking. Slurring of our words, not making much sense, but talking about life, and people, and ourselves.

            "Where will we move?" I ask him, since we can't stay here.

            "Boston's been spoiled." He says. "I can't stay here any longer."

            "Will I come with you?"
            "If you'd like."

            "Well, do you want me to?"

            "Yes, I suppose."

            I tuck my hand under my cheek and peer at him from the side. The way his lashes rest on his eyebrows as he looks upwards. The outline of his jaw. The shape of his lips. "When will we leave?"

            "Soon. It would look bad if I disappeared with Beck right now."

            "They'll think you had something to do with her death." I agree.

            "Exactly."

            "Beck won't have any family left besides you."

            Ellis's eyes close briefly. His chest lifts with an intake of breath. "You know, my mum was a bad person, but I think Millie's family might be even worse. At least with my mum, I knew what to expect. But with Millie's parents, it's all games, lies, and pretending. Being broke and a bad person is better than being rich and a bad person because now they have the power to do anything they want, hurt whomever they want, and they'll always get away with it."

            "Did you really love her?"

            "I did at one point, yes." He lifts his head and looks at me, gliding a hand along my knee, moving his thumb back and forth.

            "Ellis." I sit up and move, so I'm straddling his lap. Moving my fingers through his hair, I look deeply into his eyes. His eyes are droopy from the alcohol and lack of sleep. "You know you can be honest with me. There's nothing you could ever say to me that would change my mind about you."

            His eyes darken.

            "You know how I feel about my parents. I would understand if something happened—if you did something."

"My mum was a drug addict, Reign. An abusive, fucked-up junky. Nobody would've missed her. Nobody would've missed any of them. It was only a matter of time before they shot up too much."

            There's a hidden message within his words. I exhale a heavy breath. Understanding what he's trying to say.

            He shrugs lightly. "I did what I had to do." His voice is cool, lacking any sort of emotion. Confirming what I already suspected after hearing Millie's father the other day. He was so young. Only thirteen.

            I nod with sadness for him and wrap my arms around him, pressing myself into him. It makes sense now. Telling me before he's done things, a lot of things he isn't proud of. I can only imagine the abuse he was enduring in his house for him to come to that decision. To take matters into his own hands. My mind has gone there before. With my parents and with the teacher. Imagining how my life would be without them in it. How many opportunities were there where I could've easily taken care of things.

            I want to ask him if he's ever told anyone this before. This devastating secret. But a part of me already knows he hasn't. I am the first. Even Millie didn't know. She wouldn't have understood like I do. She would've called him a psycho, a murderer. She would've turned him in. But despite knowing this new fact about him, I still love him the same.

            There's so much I want to ask him, but pushing the topic further will only cause him to shut down, so instead, I curl into him more, breathing in his scent and listening to his heartbeat. He gently moves his fingers through my hair.

            Very quietly, very softspoken, I whisper the words, "I love you." It's simple and short, and it's finally out there. I've never said those words before to anyone. Not in this sort of way, at least. Not with pure meaning. I've told Iris I love her—just a quick send-off with not much feeling behind it. Very stale love you's because it's something she says to me, and I've always just said it back. But with Ellis, I mean it. I know for certain that I do. He's more like myself than I ever imagined.

            Ellis doesn't respond at first. I grow more nervous with each passing second. Have I said the wrong thing? He doesn't love me back. What will I do if he doesn't love me back? I'll pretend I never said it in the first place. I'll try to go back to how it was before. I never realized how vulnerable it was to tell someone those three little words. I always thought people were being ridiculous.

            Now I realize that when you might lose someone over those three little words, it's terrifying. It might cause him to pull away. Maybe now wasn't the best time to say it. When we're drunk and tired and have just been fighting at the restaurant and having amazing, angry sex, and after he's just told me about what he's done to his mother and the other two.

            I think I'd rather him say something stupid, like thank you. Instead of remaining in silence like this.

            Eventually, he kisses the top of my head sweetly and mumbles a very quick and empty. "I love you too."

            And all I can think about after he says that are his words from the pumpkin patch. "You're lying to a liar."