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Authors: Rebecca Sherwin
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me. I’d never been looked after before. I’d never felt intimacy or compassion from another person.
“Give me your pain,” he continued to transfer my tears to him. It worked. I felt lighter every time he touched me. “I’ll take it away.”
Finally his lips met mine, removing the final tear that had settled on my mouth. As his tongue traced the seam where my lips met and I let him in, we shared the pain. We shared the salty taste of my breakdown and he took everything away. He left me with nothing but a fluttering heart and a gentle heat moving through my body. He edged closer as his tongue danced with mine, like the choreographed routine in a ballet; the part where the prince would swoop in and save the damsel in distress, and he laid me back on the sofa. His lips never left mine. Not for a second.
“What would you say if I told you I could give you a new life?”
I was tired, emotionally strung out, physically exhausted and had no urge to move my head from where it lay on Curtis’ chest.
“A new life sounds good.”
“I can give it to you,” he moved so I had to look at him.
“What are you talking about?”
“It isn’t really mine, it’s Ollie’s. I was waiting for the right time and this might be it.”
“You’re confusing me.”
He shifted and rolled over me to climb off the sofa. I watched as he disappeared into the bedroom and re-emerged dressed in boxers and carrying a sports bag.
Oliver’s sports bag.
I hadn’t even thought of collecting his things after he…
“I knew this would be the last thing you’d think about, so I took it for you,” he knelt in front of me and began opening the bag.
“Please don’t. I can't,” the tears returned as he ignored me and opened up the bag.
“It isn’t about moving on. It’s just about learning to live with it. You’re strong. I know it hurts now, but you’re a survivor. You’ve been doing it your whole life and you can't give up now,” I quickly glanced down at the bag, and then back to Curtis.
“Everything Ollie did was for you, including the fight. The stakes were high, he knew he had a shot and he wanted to take it.”
“Why?”
“What’s in this bag is what will give you a new life,” he opened the bag wide and I had to look down. “Thirty thousand pounds.”
I stood up and began pulling my clothes on in a panic. There was no way I was accepting that money. I was so angry that Curtis thought I would, I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t know where I planned to go, but I had to get out. Away from that money.
“Skye, it’s what Ollie wanted. If he was here you’d be doing this with him.”
“So we’re supposed to take my brother’s money and run off into the sunset?”
“No,” he dropped his head and turned away from me. “It’s your money. I’m not coming.”
“What?” The blade twisted again, but no tears fell this time. I knew, eventually, it would happen. It always did.
“I can't go with you. Take the money and go. Go and have a career, make friends, do stupid things. Put a deposit down on a flat, or travel for a while. Fall in love. Fall out of love. Fall in love again. But whatever you do, do it for you.”
“This is your escape clause,” I got it then. Why he’d been keeping the money from me. When he’d had enough or I’d got too close, he had the money to buy his way out.
“No. It’s yours. I would have broken your heart anyway. At least, this time, you get to be the one who leaves.”
Fourteen
I’m a survivor, I’m gonna make it, I will survive, I’m a survivor. Thank you, Destiny’s Child. Thank you.
May, 2004.
I set the final cushion on the sofa and turned it on its point. I looked at my watch. Forty-five minutes. My brand new outfit was set out on my brand new bed, in my brand new room, in my almost new flat. I had forty-five minutes to prepare and didn’t know what to do with myself, so I looked aimlessly around my new home, fifty miles from my old one. I had been
“Give me your pain,” he continued to transfer my tears to him. It worked. I felt lighter every time he touched me. “I’ll take it away.”
Finally his lips met mine, removing the final tear that had settled on my mouth. As his tongue traced the seam where my lips met and I let him in, we shared the pain. We shared the salty taste of my breakdown and he took everything away. He left me with nothing but a fluttering heart and a gentle heat moving through my body. He edged closer as his tongue danced with mine, like the choreographed routine in a ballet; the part where the prince would swoop in and save the damsel in distress, and he laid me back on the sofa. His lips never left mine. Not for a second.
“What would you say if I told you I could give you a new life?”
I was tired, emotionally strung out, physically exhausted and had no urge to move my head from where it lay on Curtis’ chest.
“A new life sounds good.”
“I can give it to you,” he moved so I had to look at him.
“What are you talking about?”
“It isn’t really mine, it’s Ollie’s. I was waiting for the right time and this might be it.”
“You’re confusing me.”
He shifted and rolled over me to climb off the sofa. I watched as he disappeared into the bedroom and re-emerged dressed in boxers and carrying a sports bag.
Oliver’s sports bag.
I hadn’t even thought of collecting his things after he…
“I knew this would be the last thing you’d think about, so I took it for you,” he knelt in front of me and began opening the bag.
“Please don’t. I can't,” the tears returned as he ignored me and opened up the bag.
“It isn’t about moving on. It’s just about learning to live with it. You’re strong. I know it hurts now, but you’re a survivor. You’ve been doing it your whole life and you can't give up now,” I quickly glanced down at the bag, and then back to Curtis.
“Everything Ollie did was for you, including the fight. The stakes were high, he knew he had a shot and he wanted to take it.”
“Why?”
“What’s in this bag is what will give you a new life,” he opened the bag wide and I had to look down. “Thirty thousand pounds.”
I stood up and began pulling my clothes on in a panic. There was no way I was accepting that money. I was so angry that Curtis thought I would, I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t know where I planned to go, but I had to get out. Away from that money.
“Skye, it’s what Ollie wanted. If he was here you’d be doing this with him.”
“So we’re supposed to take my brother’s money and run off into the sunset?”
“No,” he dropped his head and turned away from me. “It’s your money. I’m not coming.”
“What?” The blade twisted again, but no tears fell this time. I knew, eventually, it would happen. It always did.
“I can't go with you. Take the money and go. Go and have a career, make friends, do stupid things. Put a deposit down on a flat, or travel for a while. Fall in love. Fall out of love. Fall in love again. But whatever you do, do it for you.”
“This is your escape clause,” I got it then. Why he’d been keeping the money from me. When he’d had enough or I’d got too close, he had the money to buy his way out.
“No. It’s yours. I would have broken your heart anyway. At least, this time, you get to be the one who leaves.”
Fourteen
I’m a survivor, I’m gonna make it, I will survive, I’m a survivor. Thank you, Destiny’s Child. Thank you.
May, 2004.
I set the final cushion on the sofa and turned it on its point. I looked at my watch. Forty-five minutes. My brand new outfit was set out on my brand new bed, in my brand new room, in my almost new flat. I had forty-five minutes to prepare and didn’t know what to do with myself, so I looked aimlessly around my new home, fifty miles from my old one. I had been
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