Binding 13

I couldn’t handle more.

Not tonight.

Mortified, I hovered outside my neighbor's garden wall until it was clear that Joh

Slipping inside, I closed the door behind me and exhaled a ragged breath before quickly searching the downstairs.

The house was empty.

Ollie, Tadhg, and Sean went to Na

Joey and Mam both worked on Mondays, and my father kept a stool warm at the bookies most evenings.

Nothing changed.

Miscarriage or no miscarriage, my screwed-up family went on as normal…

Thankful to have avoided another pointless confrontation, I kicked off my shoes and hurried up the staircase to get out of my damp clothes.

We had a second-hand tumble dryer in the utility room that I wasn’t supposed to use because of how hard it was on the electricity, but I was going to use it this evening.

I had no choice.

Back in the house of pain, I closed my bedroom door and then quickly stripped out of my wet clothes before throwing on my pajamas.

I was halfway down the staircase with my uniform balled up in my hands when there was a knock on the front door.

Pausing mid-step, I squinted my eyes and tried to make out who the tall shadow outside the frosted glass could be.

Another knock came, louder this time, so I hurried down the remaining steps and wrenched the door open, only to find Joh

Instantly, my heart jackknifed in my chest and then began to thud so hard it was almost painful.

Seriously, God?

Why?

"Hi," I whispered, clutching the door with a death grip. The step into our house was a least a foot high, but I still found myself staring up at him.

"Hi," Joh

I nodded, mortified.

"I thought your house was number 81?" He frowned. "That's where I've been dropping you off?"

I shrugged helplessly, feeling at a loss.

"Well, you left your bag in the car." Shifting my bag off his right shoulder, he held it out to me.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush once again. "Your jacket's up in my bedroom –I'll go and get it." I turned to run up the staircase, but he stopped me with a hand to my wrist.

"Don’t worry about it," he explained, quickly retracting his hand. "I'll get it off you at school or something."

"Okay."

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Joh

"Yeah," I whispered, not feeling one bit okay.

"Sha

"Please, don’t say anything," I begged, beyond mortified at this stage. "Please."

"Things are complicated for me right now–"

"Joh

He stared hard at me for an achingly long moment before nodding stiffly. "If that's what you want."

I sagged slightly. "It is."

His gaze flicked to my neck then, and his expression instantly darkened.

"I need to go inside now," I stated, fearful of him starting back up where he had left off.

"Right," he said with a small shake of his head. "Of course, yeah, and I'd better get going."

"Okay."

"I'll guess I'll see you tomorrow," Joh

Feeling bereft, I chewed on my lip as I watched him walk away. "Bye, Joh

"Bye, Sha

Oh, god.

With my heart knocking around restlessly in my chest, I closed the door and trudged back up the staircase.

I needed to lie down for a minute so I could process my thoughts.

Slipping back inside my tiny room, I walked straight to my single bed with the intention of faceplanting the mattress, only to stop short when my eyes landed on Joh

Like the creeper I was, I sank down on the foot of my bed, reached for his jacket, and held it to my chest.

His smell was everywhere.

On his jacket.

On me.

Holding the drenched fabric, I inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent of his deodorant, and then mentally chastised myself for being such a freak.

What was I doing?

Why was I allowing myself to feel these emotions?

They were dangerous.

I had to stop.

He doesn’t want you.

No one does.

Feeling sick to my stomach with regret and anxiety, I pulled back the covers, climbed into my bed, and then curled into the smallest ball I could.

Everything hurt.

My body.

My brain.

My heart.

Breathing slowly, I attempted to rid my mind of every bad thought plaguing me.

Every embarrassing and soul-destroying memory of how ridiculously stupid I had behaved.

It didn’t last long.

Fifteen minutes into my silent mourning, the sound of the front door slamming filled my ears.

No less the three minutes later, my bedroom door flew inwards.

"Where's the di

Remaining perfectly still, I clutched the duvet as my body coiled tight with anxiety. "I forgot."

"Well get out of that fucking bed and come down stairs," Dad snarled from my doorway. "You've jobs to do around this house, girl, and that includes putting on the di

"I feel sick," I croaked out.

It wasn’t a lie.

My stomach was cramping up.

"You'll feel a lot fucking sicker if you don’t get your useless hole out of that bed," my father warned. "Sick. Your mother's fucking sick and she's working to pay your bastard school fees, you ungrateful little cunt."

I knew he hadn't been drinking today, but my father sober was still terrifying to me.

"You have five minutes to get down those stairs, girl," he added. "Don’t make me come back up to ya."

He slammed my bedroom door closed, and while I listened to him thumping back down the stairs, I debated my options.

Stay where I was and take a beating, or do as he asked and risk one anyway?

There was no choice.

There never was.

Not for me anyway.

Throwing back the covers, I climbed out of bed and walked back down to hell.

"Are you still talking to me?" were the first words that came out of Claire's mouth when I answered her phone call later that night.

I was just finishing mopping the kitchen floor before bed, having cooked the di

Balancing my phone between my ear and shoulder, I poured the water from the mop bucket down the kitchen sink and quickly tucked them away in the utility room.

"Considering I just answered your call, I'd say it's pretty obvious that I'm still talking to you," I replied in a hushed tone.

It was gone eleven at night, but my father was still in the living room watching some match on the television, and I knew better than to disturb him.