You're Gone

There was only one person I was sure was greatly perturbed by my presence at the party.

Even the girl of the hour didn't mind me being there. In fact, she had been the one to invite me. After showing up at mine and Dylan's flat a few days ago to get back a dress Dylan hadn't returned, Amanda put on a bright smile and practically insisted I went to her birthday party citing "if the guys like yeh, I'm sure yeh're a great girl."

I didn't mention her current boyfriend probably hated me more than any other single person on earth. Instead I smiled and told her I'd be there. I had been lying, of course. But after Dylan had a serious talk with me about "really healing" and "not being afraid anymore" I just gave up trying and caved.

After all, I was getting rather sick of just mulling around the flat all day with the occasional visit from one of the guys. But the reality of the situation was- I wasn't healed yet. I hadn't properly gone through therapy when I was in rehab because I was too damn thick headed. I refused to let anyone in. Because the one time I had let someone in he ran away when things got too hard. And maybe things in therapy would be different, I mean, those people were paid to be there, but I just couldn't open up. I was too afraid and ashamed to let people know what I had done. I was mortified by the mere prospect of someone finding out what a truly horrible person I was.

I had to forgive myself before anyone else forgave me.

So I tried to avoid Oliver's eyes all night. Which just meant sitting in the corner of the room and not really enjoying myself as it was anyway. Finally Vegan picked me up (quite literally, actually) and pulled me out into the middle of the room where he proceeded to dance with me. I caught Oliver's glaring eye but Vegan told me not to bother as he spun me around and preformed ridiculously horrible dance moves.

And I laughed. I actually laughed. A real, genuine, full on laugh for the first time since that terrible night. I had forgotten what a laugh felt like bubbling inside of my throat. I had forgotten what my laugh had sounded like even. And it seemed once I finally laughed everything got better. Everyone else was smiling. Friends I hadn't seen in forever were coming over to me and telling me how good it was to see me. Dylan and I were joking like we used to. I finally felt at home around the boys once again.

Once mostly everyone besides the band had left, we all took to cleaning up the space Oliver had rented out for Amanda's birthday. Surprisingly no one was all too drunk (except for Tom who had fallen asleep under a table) and everyone was still in good spirits as we cleaned.

"I jus' got me self a new kitteh," Matt beamed. "She's proper adorable."

"No way!" I smiled widely. "Lemme see a picture!"

And so Matt pulled his iPhone out of his pocket and showed me a picture of the grey and white ball of fluff. And he was right, she was proper adorable.

"Oh my goodness," I gushed. "She's lovely. I wanna be a mum to a baby kitten like tha'," I half whined.

"Why." Oliver suddenly snapped.

All eyes were on him. And then back on me.

I gulped.

"Wha' do yeh mean?" I asked.

"Yeh could neva be a mother," he spat venomously. "Yeh're too fuckin' selfish."

"Oliver!" Dylan yelled, stepping in front of him.

"No need ta yell Oli," Amanda advised warily.

"N-no, 's okay," I stuttered. "I'll jus'....leave. Fancy seein' yeh all. Happy birfhday Amanda," I sent a short nod to the birthday girl before turning around and making a swift exit. I had just barely made it down the street when I heard the pounding of feet behind me. I would have tried to run faster, but I knew it was Dylan and I knew she wouldn't try and pry.

"Yeh're always fuckin' runnin' away."

Imagine my surprise when I heard Oliver's voice.

I literally stumbled as the words rolled off his tongue. Once I regained my balance I turned around cautiously and took a deep breath as I looked at him.

"Would it kill yeh ta stay in one place when fhings got a little hard jus' once?" He yelled.

"Maybe if yeh weren't always fuckin' humiliatin’ me or makin' me feel like some 'orrible piece of shit I would," I said. Normally something like that should have been said with some driving force behind it, but I just couldn't muster up the strength. I knew what was coming, and I knew I wasn't going to enjoy it. Oliver was going to completely rip me apart and I honestly didn't know how much more I could possibly take. A human being can only withstand so much, after all.

"Yeh 're 'orrible!" He screamed, baring his teeth. I shuddered at the harshness of his voice. "Yeh know I'm not jus' gonna go tellin' everyone 'bout what 'appened, but don't expect me ta forget. Or ever fuckin' forgive yeh. Yeh can fool everyone else wiff yeh phony sobriety bit but don't fhink yeh fooled me for a second. I saw yeh at yehr fuckin' worst and by tha looks of fhings yeh 'aven't got much better than tha'," he spat.

"I am better," I told him boldly. "An' I'm sober. I 'ave been since..."

"Yeh can't even say it," he shook his head, laughing darkly.

"Can yeh?!" I snapped back at him. "I don't know 'ow yeh can jus' walk around like everyfhing is fuckin' fine. I wasn't the only one who left, Oliver," I glared.

He took a step closer to me his face directly in front of mine. I could feel his breath against my lips and I could see every single little freckle on his face. For a brief moment I thought he was going to kiss me. I thought the was going to grab the sides of my face and pull it to his with such force that I'd stumble backwards. And then I'd say I was sorry and he'd do the same and we'd kiss some more and everything would be okay. But my mind tended to do a lot of over thinking, or wishful thinking rather.

"Everyfhing was fuckin' fine," he seethed. "An' then yeh come along, back from rehab an' yeh ain't even better," he shook his head as he leaned back, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I came back because if I didn't I was gonna kill myself," I said finally. Oliver's honey orbs got wide for only a second before he replaced it with his poker face. "Rehab got me sober, but it didn't do much else." My eyes wandered to the ground as I spoke the words I hadn't even had the courage to tell Dylan. I was sure she had at the very least suspected it, but I had never told her out loud. "I couldn't feel better wiffout talkin' to yeh," I said lowly.

"There's nofhing ta talk about," he replied, his tone cold.

"'ow could yeh say tha'?" I asked, my eyes now returning to his endlessly flawless face. "There's everyfhing ta talk about."

"Even if there is somefhing ta say, 's way past due. I 'ave my life 'ere. My new life. An' it doesn't involve yeh, Tris."

As hard as I tried to stop them, the tears spilled up and out of my eyes in a way I couldn't control. Sobs passed through my body in fast, hard waves shooting through my entire body and making it ache almost as much as my heart did. Truth is, since that day there had been a constant ache in my heart, it just got worse when Oliver was mentioned. And hearing him say those things to me. And listening to his tone. And watching him walk away from me again, it was all too much.

I wasn't as strong as I wanted to be. I never had been.