Wanderlust (Kellic)

Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - Is This Really Happening?

We go back inside shortly after that, but we only have a few minutes of peace, because then Vic’s phone rings again.

"Fucking hell," he mutters, pulling it out of his pocket and glancing at the screen. "It’s my brother. How much does it take to convince them that I’m fine?"

I assume that it’s a rhetorical question and shrug. Vic goes back out onto the balcony, and as soon as the screen door is closed behind him, he answers: “Hello?”

Pause. “What happened?” Pause. “Okay…?” Pause. “Just spit it out, Mike.”

And then: “What?”

There’s another pause, a longer one. “I…” Vic stammers out. “This can’t be…what do you mean, they don’t love each other anymore?”

I should probably go away, but I’m transfixed by what he’s saying. Who are he and Mike talking about? What happened?

"No," Vic says. "It’s been twenty-five years. It can’t just stop like that.” I can hear him growing more upset, his voice cracking a little.

"Fuck that," he says. "Fuck that!”

I can see him now, hanging up the phone and throwing it across the balcony. It hits the wall but doesn’t break. “Fuck that!” he yells again, and this time I hear real pain behind that voice. He ducks his head, his shoulders shaking. I can’t see his face, but I think he’s crying.

I stand, about to at least knock on the screen door, when he looks back up and sees me watching him. I barely have time to notice the tears spilling from his eyes before he shoves the door open and storms back inside, slamming it behind him.

"Vic," I call. "What’s wrong?"

He whips his head around. “Nothing,” he says, sinking to his knees. “It’s nothing.”

I run to him and kneel down in front of him. “It’s not nothing.”

"It’s stupid," he sobs, his head in his hands. "It happens to people all the time. I’m sorry. It doesn’t matter—"

"Vic," I interrupt, gently lifting his head up. "If it hurts this badly, it matters."

The scene is familiar, and so are those words. They’re the words Matty said to me when Jordan died, when I cried my heart out and then claimed it was nothing.

Vic takes a deep breath. “My parents,” he says slowly, “are getting a divorce.” His bottom lip trembles, as if he’s trying to hold his pain back.

I lightly brush away a few of his tears with my thumb. “Vic,” I say softly, because I don’t know how else to respond.

He stands up suddenly, pushing me away. “Nothing ever lasts!” he yells, slamming his fist down on his bed. “This happens all the fucking time. They’ve been married for twenty-five years. They can’t just stop loving each other like that!” He’s nearly hysterical, and it hurts to see him like this.

"Fuck everything," he continues. "When does anything good ever come from love? Never. I’m done with this. I’m done with all of this."

He heads for the door of the hotel room. I chase after him, but he just pushes me away again. “Leave me alone,” he demands, still crying steadily. “Please.”

"Vic, I’m not leaving you when you’re like this," I argue, fear creeping up inside of me at the thought of what might happen.

"Like what?" he snaps, furiously brushing away tears that won’t stop falling.