Loving The Enemy

I didn't know how long I spent crying on my bed. I didn't know I had that many tears. No matter how hard I tried to stop crying, images from today came flooding back and started me off again. None of it made any sense. What did it mean? What exactly did I find out? That Jake knew my dad? That me knew me? That mum had lied to me about the accident? Did any of it have to do with me? Did Jake do something to my dad to get closer to me? But I was with Dean? Maybe he did the same thing to their car?
No. I couldn't keep thinking about it over and over again. A new theory came into my head about what happened every five minutes. I didn't know what to do. I needed to talk to Jake. I had to find the answers.
But what id he tried to kill me too?
No. He would have killed me already if he was going to.
I felt sick thinking such things. Jake killing me? It made no sense. A few days ago I pictured myself spending the rest of my life with him, and now I was thinking about him killing me. I hated it. I hated everything. Was anything that Jake or mum told me true?
Did Jake even love me?

I left the house, still in my soaked dress, not exactly sure where I was going. I knew I was looking for Jake, but I didn't know where. I was walking for what felt like hours when I walked past out house. The house I went to everytime I fely lonely or sad. I wanted to go there now, but I didn't have have time. I had to find Jake.
I was about to leave when I noticed a light shining in the sitting room. I could see a shadow, but it was hard to make out what exactly is was. My guess was that it was Jake.
It scared me to think that I would be on my own in a dark house with him. One that was supposed to have been abandoned for over eight years. But as I walked up to the door, I kept telling myself that he loved me. I couldn't imagine him faking that kind of emotion. But then again, did I actually know him? I didn't know much about his father, or much about his mother. I had only met her once, but she didn't seem to like me. Thinking about it now, there were a lot of things i didn't know about him.

I opened the door softly and quietly. I walked towards the sittring room, making sure I didn't make too much noise. I wasn't ready for him to know I was here yet.
He was on the couch with his head in his hands. His breathing seemed ragged and it looked like he was crying.
I didn't know whether to speak to him or not. I knew he was angry, but I wasn't sure who the anger was aimed at.
I took a deep breath and stood up straight.
"We need to talk. Now", I tried to keep my voice steady, but it ended up like a squeak.
He jumped at the sound of my voice and lifted his head to look at me. His eyes were red and puffy. I took a seat across the room and looked at him. More like glared at him, actually.
"I'm not leaving until you tell me everything you know about my father's death", usually I felt sick at the mention of his 'death' but now I felt nothing. Just coldness. Everything I knew about it, the way he died, the angle the car was at, everything, seemed like a lie. None of it was real. It was done on purpose and all I wanted was to see justice done. I knew my dad would be able to rest once this mess was solved.
"I don't know what you want me to say", his face went suddenly hard, emotionless.
"I'm not going to play your stupid game. You know something and I want to know what", I said louder.
He continued to stare at me with the same expression.
"Don't you even care about me?", I asked the question that was bugging me all night.
"How can you even ask that? Of course I care about you", he looked hurt that I had asked such an obvious question.
"Then why did you lie to me? Why are you still lying to me now? You of all people should know what it's like to not see your father anymore", I held back the tears.
"You don't get it. You have no idea. My father was nothing like yours", he yelled. I jumped at the sound of his voice shouting. I never heard him so angry before until that night.
"How am I supposed to get it when you tell me?", I yelled back.
We both looked at each other with pleading eyes. I wanted him to tell me and he wanted me to stop asking.
His face softened and he put his head in his hands again, sighing.
"I hate shouting at you", he whispered.
"Then don't. Don't shout. Just talk to me", I whispered back. I moved over to the seat beside him and rested my hand on his shoulder.
"I wish I could. I really wish I could", he bagan sobbing. It didn't feel right, watching him cry. I wanted to cry with him, but I knew I couldn't.
"I don't want to hurt you", he looked at me.
"You're only going to hurt me by hiding this from me", I told him honestly.
We both sat in silence for so long, I didn't think he would talk. I was about to say something when he began.
"It was about a year ago. Maybe longer. We went to England for a while. Mum wanted to explore Europe and dad just wanted a holiday.
They went to one of the bars together. I stayed in the apartment that we were renting. They both came home a couple of hours later fighting. Apparently some guy was flirting with her and dad got jealous".
I listened intently, not wanting to interrupt him. I had no idea how this was related back to my family, but I let him continue.
"This went on for days. The two of them fighting. But one day it got out of hand. I was coming back from the pool when I walked in on my dad hitting my mum. I managed to stop him and I was yelling so loud at him, I thought my ears would pop. The he told me that she was having an affair with the guy from the bar. I knew by the look on her face that he was telling the truth".
My heart started to beat faster and louder. I knew where this was going and I felt sick. I moved my hand from his shoulder and rested it on my knee and looked at the ground.
"I didn't know what to say", he continued. "Dada was so angry. I've never seen him like that before. He stormed out of the apartment. He was missing for two. We thought he was dead.
"Then mum came back crying one day. She handed me the newspaper she was holding. I didn't understand at first, until she explained that the man in the car-crash was the man at the bar. We didn't have to work hard to find out that my dad was the one who caused it. We left England the next day incase we got in trouble, but before we left I got all the newspapers with that story and brought them home with me. I wanted to remind myself of how sick my dad was and to never speak to him again. But it didn't matter because I've never seen him since".

I was speechless. Jake's dad killed my father. My dad was having an affair. But what about me? And mum? Did she even know? The I remember one of the clippings.
"What about me? You knew me when I came here first?", I asked eventually.
"No. I remember seeing you in that picture. I knew right then my dad had just ripped apart your life. And then weeks later I had a dream about you. You fell into my arms. And then you showed up at my school the next day. I didn't know you were the same person in the picture until a couple of weeks ago. I was clearing out my room and I found that box. I haven't been able to look at you properly in weeks", he looked at me, tears falling freely down his cheeks.

Again, I was speechless. What was I supposed to say to that? It didn't register in my head because it didn't seem real. None of it did. I just stared at the ground. I could feel the tears on my cheeks, but I ignored them.
"Baby, you got to understand that I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't know that you were the same person until lately. I promise you, Erin, I love you so much", he took both my hands in his.
I didn't turn to look at him, I didn't speak. I stood perfectly still, like a statue, with the tears continuiously falling.
"Erin, look at me. Please. Say something", he pleaded. I turned around and stared at him. My face was blank. I didn't know what to feel. I wasn't angry or upset by Jake. It wasn't his fault. But I really wasn't angry at anyone. I was confused.
"I.....I.....", I stammered. I didn't know what to say.
"I'm so sorry", Jake said.
"I...I", I stammered again. I looked like an idiot repeating the same letter over and over again.
"I understand if you want some space. I really am sorry for hurting you", he repeated.
"Stop", I finally began to speak. "S-stop saying you're sorry".
Jake looked down at the ground, obviously lost for words.
"I don't blame you", I finally looked at him.
"Who do you blame so?", he asked.
"I blame both of our dads", I finally admitted the truth.
"What do you mean? Your dad was nothing like mine. He was a good man", he looked confused.
"He obviously wasn't that good if he cheated on my mom. And what about me? I mean, didn't he even care how this would effect me? I thought everything was fine. God, he was such a good actor", I ranted.
"Don't say that. You don't know what he was thinking at the time. But he saw the light in the end", he said absently.
"What do you mean? Is that supposed to be some sick joke about him dying?", I asked, sudden't defencive.
"No. Of course not. After my dad found out, my mom told your dad. He didn't know she was married. They had this huge argument and kicked her out. That was the last time they spoke. That's one of the reasons she was so upset. She never got to finish it properly", Jake informed me.
I was going to say something sarcastic like "Well I feel so sorry for her" but then I thought against it. It wasn't her fault. She didn't know he was married. But dad knew he was married.
"Does she know about me? Your mum I mean?", I asked.
"No. She doesn't know about any of the newspapers. She only read that one paper back in England. She doesn't talk about it much and I never bring it up", he shrugged.
We both looked at the ground awkwardly. I didn't know what to say to him and it didn't take a genius to guess that he didn't either.
"So now what?", he asked.
"What do you mean?", I looked at him.
"Where does this leave us?", he asked.
I didn't respond. I loved Jake. And he said he loved me. But there was way too much history that could never be erased. I was afraid it would get too complicated. But that still didn't stop my longing for him.
"Erin, I know I've never said this often before, but I love you so much. More than I thought was possible. And I can't imagine being without you. And I understand that you're confused and hurt and maybe even angry so I don't know if that means anything to you right now. I don't even know if I mean anything to you anymore", he looked down at the ground, avoiding my eyes.
"You mean everything to me", I looked at him until he looked up at me. "And I do love you. But right now, I need some time to think".
I awkwardly stood up and left Jake alone in the room. I didn't look back once because I was too afraid to see the look on his face.

Once I got to the end of the street and away from everyone, I cried.