'Cause Love Is A Selfish Thing

I think I was expecting my life to spin out of control after Oliver had slapped me. Maybe drinking all the time to the point of blacking out to numb how I felt about it. Or being reckless because I didn't care about what happened to me anymore. But in all honesty, nothing changed much besides me cutting him out of my days. Me ignoring him didn't stop him from trying to get a hold of me. But his attempts at contact didn't cause me to go on a bender of self-destruction. I knew that he wasn't worth it. He hadn't been worth anything to me since the first night we had went to dinner. It definitely felt wrong to be walking around, acting like everything was fine and that there wasn't yet another bruise hidden on my body. I didn't feel the need to treat it any other way though.

A solid week passed that was filled with dismissing anything that had to do with what had happened. Since I wasn't spiraling out of control, it was rather easy to hide it from everyone and keep up with the rest of the routine I'd established. And without having a certain person demanding to occupy some of my time, I actually got to see some of my other friends. I had almost forgotten I had roommates and it was nice to get caught up with what was going on with them. To some extent, we all seemed to be focusing on the wedding that felt like it was approaching faster everyday. My days consisted of nothing but getting every detail finished to perfection and also wondering if I was free of Oliver just because I wasn't acknowledging him. Sometimes, I liked to pretend that I didn't have a job to fit in there, too.

Another Saturday and another few hours spent reveling in the sun-bathed blankets. The light strewn across my room kept me from falling back asleep like I really wanted to, but it also kept a lot on my mind. Absentmindedly, I rubbed at the black and blue skin on my cheek and wondered if it had faded anymore since last night. It hadn't been terrible to begin with, but it was taking too long to go away for my liking. I was still shocked that it was even there, that someone had actually smacked me and hard enough to leave a mark. I knew it was time to get out of this so-called relationship, but I still couldn't think of a way to do it without suffering any further. Coming up with scenarios kept my mind occupied for what felt like hours and I eventually had to get out of bed just to stop myself from letting it waste time I needed.

I padded across the room to stick my head out the door to yell to Meg or Ashleigh -whichever one of them was out there- that I was awake to make breakfast for all of us. After hearing Meg's cheery approval, I slipped back into my room to head to the bathroom. It was getting annoying to have to wear makeup every second of the day, but Hadley was coming over so I needed it anyway. I was already staring at the mirror when I flicked on the light and a groan escaped my lips when I could see my reflection. The bruise was fading but -as they usually do- it was simply turning into a sickly yellow and brown around the edges. It covered the entire angle of my cheekbone, spreading out to seep into the corner of my eye and onto my cheek itself. Once again, I found my fingers running over it gently as I got closer to the mirror, testing to see how badly it still hurt. All it did was cause me to heave a sigh in frustration with the knowledge that I was pretty sure I was still stuck.

"What the hell's that from?" a voice asked from the doorway in a curious but demanding manner. Hadley had been so quiet coming into my room that I hadn't heard her and I jumped nearly a foot in the air when she spoke. Her eyes were wide when I spun toward her and they automatically averted to my cheek.

Too late, I threw my hand up to cover it and shook my head like it would make it go away. "It's nothing. It's just a little bruise. Guess my clumsiness is coming back in full force," I lied. I hoped that she would remember that I had used to get hurt constantly when we were in our early teens and believe it was nothing more than the truth this time around.

She was so much smarter than that. If there would have been more room between us, I would have described her walk as storming toward me. "I didn't ask what it was. You'd have to be blind not to see what it is. I asked what it was from. It looks like someone smacked you across the face," she said almost angrily as she pulled my fingers away from my cheek. Her eyes bulged again at the view from up close. She grabbed my chin between her thumb and forefinger and made to turn my head so she could see the bruise better.

I jerked out of her grasp and instantly turned around to open the drawer that housed my makeup. "That's absolutely ridiculous," I responded, defensive only because I didn't know how else to act. She wasn't supposed to see this at all and I was confused as to how to play it off now that she had. I let my hair fall over my face so that maybe I could make myself disappear.

"Oh my God! Someone did slap you!" she exclaimed, and I heard her slap a hand over her mouth in shock. "Who was it?! I'd ask if it was one of your roommates, but they're way too nice. It looks too bad for it to have been a woman anyway. What stupid dick hit you?" she demanded to know between her fingers, making her way to stand in front of me once more. When I wouldn't look at her, she slammed the drawer shut so I would stop staring into it.

"Hadley, can we talk about this later? I promised the girls I was going to make this big fancy breakfast for all of us. I'm not going to just forget about it to have this discussion," I told her firmly, and forced the drawer back open so I could actually get things out of it. I couldn't keep my anger from rising even though I knew it was far from logical.

Hadley pushed it closed once more. "I brought coffee and scones for the four of us. They'll survive," she stated confidently. "Now put the concealer down before I have to drag you out of this bathroom. One way or another, you're going to tell me who hit you," she told me like she was making a promise. I trusted her faith in those words because she would hold me down and force it out of me if she had to.

With another sigh, I threw the tube in my hand back into the drawer where it bounced once to land in the back. I turned sharply to head back into my room and threw myself onto my bed. I was starting to work myself out of the anger, knowing that we would get nowhere if I was too pissed off to say anything. "You're going to hate me," I claimed when she took a spot next to me. She hadn't felt right about Oliver to begin with and she hadn't even had to meet him. On top of that, I had completely left out that he was still in my life after not mentioning him for months.

"I'm not going to hate you. I'm going to hate the bastard that thought it was all right to hurt my best friend and then I'm going to kill him," she assured me calmly. There wasn't one ounce of dishonesty there. She was always the stronger one, willing to do whatever made matters better even if it meant threatening death.

"I don't even know where to start," I admitted. Was it right to simply tell her only what she wanted to know? I felt that not telling her everything was like betraying her. Of course, maybe I already had.

"Everyone always says to start from the beginning, don't they?" she questioned. I nodded, and took a deep breath to prepare for what I was sure was going to be a long-winded explanation. She wasn't done speaking though. "But I'm not everyone. So start with who did it, and then continue with everything else if there's more to it," she interrupted, and then looked to me to fill her in.

She was sitting further back than I was so she couldn't really see my face, especially after I threw my elbows onto my knees and my chin into my hands. I had been holding my breath since she cut me off and I finally let it out in an exaggerated gust. There was no use in attempting to hesitate to make it easier. "It was Oliver," I answered hurriedly, and automatically readied myself for her to blow up.

"What?!" she screeched, and I was positive that everyone on the block heard her. "When in the hell did he do this?! And why? I thought you had kicked him to the curb, Clarke!" she exclaimed, only a step away from flailing in anger. Abruptly, she stopped and took a deep breath of her own. "I said you could explain if there was more. So please, continue," she invited, even waving her hand out. I suspected that was just to get rid of built up energy to prevent her from running the whole way to Oliver's to choke him.

"In my defense," I began, going back to her freak out, "I never said I'd gotten rid of him. I refrained from speaking about him because I knew you had ill feelings about him. But I should have paid more attention to those feelings at the beginning, because it would have saved me a lot of trouble. He's such a Goddamn douche bag that I don't think words can do him justice," I said, letting out a humorless chuckle. My anger was coming back, but not toward her. "He really was like any other guy at first. Maybe a little arrogant, but I figured that was because he had money. Either way, I was over it by my birthday, especially after practically demanding that I spend time with him." I didn't want to tell her that even then, I had felt hopeless about the whole situation.

"If you were over it, what's causing us to have this conversation right now?" Hadley inquired. If she was still mad, she was doing well to hide it. She merely sounded curious now, wanting to know why I had continued a friendship with someone who had worn out his welcome in less than two months.

"Because this," I pointed to my cheek, "isn't his first offense. I tried to be done with it then. When ignoring him didn't work, I thought face-to-face would be better for me. That only ended in another bruise and finding out that he considered us to be a couple. When I told him otherwise, he threatened me. But more importantly, he led me to believe that he was threatening Alex, too." I still wasn't looking at her, keeping my gaze locked on the blank television across the room while I perched on the edge of the bed. I couldn't bring myself to face her through the rest of it. Not when I told her how I thought it would be best to continue to see him until I came up with something better even after reconciling with Alex and not when I described the reason he had hit me. I was starting to feel more and more ashamed about it and not telling anyone as more logic came with each word leaving my mouth. "Good Christ, I'm a cliche!" I moaned in recognition, doubling over to bury my face in my knees and wrap my arms around my thighs.

"You're not a cliche," my best friend replied. She pulled my hair away from my face and gathered it into one hand while she rubbed my back with the other. "You were in the same position every woman in an abusive relationship ultimately finds themselves in. I'm not going to sit here and say you did the right thing by keeping it a secret. But because you did, I understand why you stayed. You can't think of a way out all by yourself when you're constantly worried about how he's going to react if you tell him you're done," she surmised, somehow putting exactly what I had realized into words.

I had been an idiot to think that I should put this problem in the shadows. It had made me so unhappy to think that there was no way out. I should have let any one of my friends know, and I could have easily gained the backup I needed to ensure my escape from this mess. Even now, I wasn't sure what exactly had happened in my brain to convince me that it was best to go it alone. I hadn't wanted to tell Alex because I didn't want him to get involved and hurt in the process. But why not Hadley or even one of the other boys? Oliver had no reason to want to do to them what I was afraid he would do to Alex.

I clenched my eyes shut against the view of my pajama pants. I wasn't sure what I was hoping to see when I opened them again, but the plaid fabric was all that was there. Not wanting to stare at it any longer, I finally sat up. "Is there even a point in asking for your help now?" I questioned, turning to her.

She had kept her hand on my back and now pulled me into her, wrapping both arms around me. "As your best friend, I can't even jokingly tell you no. Of course I'm going to help you. Please tell me I get to punch him though," she begged, causing us both to giggle.

Despite the temporary distraction of laughter and the permanent weight off my shoulders, I was worried all the same. Maybe because I had failed to find a solution for so long, it seemed like there still wasn't a way to resolve it. Until it posed a problem or until I found a better way, I was just going to continue to pretend like Oliver no longer existed.

I was fine with sitting here for a while longer, feeling refreshed thanks to the hug from my best friend. All the time spent together the past few months while arranging everything for her wedding had somehow left us with little time to be friends instead of event planners. My phone rang though and forced us right out of the relief we both felt. I mentally sighed, fearing that it would be Oliver once again. I grabbed the phone from my nightstand only to see that it was Alex.

"What are you going to tell him?" Hadley asked, looking over my shoulder. "I mean, there's no reason you should keep it from him any longer. I think he should know the truth about why you're not together at this very moment," she shrugged as a reaction to my confused expression.

My eyebrows were able to separate then, but I couldn't give her an answer. I couldn't even agree with her. I was still concerned he would try to do something about it. I just shrugged myself before standing and answering my phone at last. "Hey," I greeted happily, sounding so unlike I thought I would that I had to stop to make sure it was me who had spoken. I shuffled into the bathroom again, pausing in the doorway to look back at Hadley.

She appeared to understand that I wanted to talk to him alone. She more than likely thought that I was going to divulge everything to him. "I'm just gonna go out to the kitchen and see what the girls are up to," she insisted, and hurried out the other door.

I couldn't help but snort lightly at her as I placed myself in front of the mirror. "What's going on?" I asked Alex, having heard his greeting while Hadley was exiting the room. I was trying to ignore the impossibly large smile that was stretching my lips. Sometimes, it still felt amiss that I was so happy just to talk to him. Years together felt like nothing when I thought of the elation we felt.

"I just wanted to express how disappointed I was that we couldn't hang out those whole like… two days I was home," he stated, purposely tiptoeing a line between upset and amused. He was always going to enjoy making me feel guilty as long as I knew he was only joking. It was funny, but it was the one thing I hated about us being just friends. If he was going to make me feel guilty, I wanted real reasons behind it.

I would continue to go along with it though. "Well, I was busy. You just fade into the background when I have more important things to do sometimes," I joked, faking a snuck-up attitude. For what I hoped would be the last time today, I opened the drawer with my makeup and finally pulled out what I needed. My smile grew some at the sound of his chuckle.

"I see how it is then. Something interesting comes along and Alex doesn't exist anymore," he guessed.

I laughed and nodded. "No, but really. I've barely had time to even be home. My head's been swimming with nothing but wedding details. Between that and the Oliver thing…" I trailed off, noticing my mistake way too late. In only a matter of minutes, I had gotten entirely too comfortable talking to him and had let my tongue become loose with my words. I wanted to blame Hadley for having me tell her all about it, making it the one thing at the forefront of my mind. But I knew I could only blame myself.

"Who's Oliver?" Alex questioned. Something in his voice told me he already had a good idea of who it was. He sounded like he was already suspecting someone and who else could it really be? "It's that guy from the coffee shop, right? What thing with him? Are you sleeping with him and you've been too busy thinking of a way to tell me? Am I right?" he seethed. It was so unlike him, but he had every right to be this angry.

"Alex, calm down. It's ridiculous to think I would be sleeping with him!" I replied, hoping he would see that. Even if I had told him nothing about Oliver, he should know that there was no one else I wanted to be with.

At least he took my command seriously. He didn't sound as worked up when he spoke again. "Why is it so ridiculous, though? This is the bad decision you made," he speculated. "This is why you blew me off even after things were all right between us. I want everything to be okay with us, Clarke. But I don't know that I can stand to see you with another guy when we promised each other that we'd be back together. When you promised that we would get married someday."

"That wasn't a lie, Alex! Can you just let me explain? You're jumping to conclusions and have seriously got everything so wrong," I tried to beg, clenching my fist around the makeup brush in my hand. He needed to understand, even if I wasn't ready to tell him everything. He was blowing this out of proportion based on a few words that shouldn't even have been able to lead to this.

"Not right now, no. I have to get to soundcheck," he lied. I knew him well enough to know that it wasn't the truth. He wanted time to rage without me trying to talk him out of it. And before I could do just that, he hung up.

"Damn it!" I yelled, throwing the brush. I watched it fly into my room before letting my phone fall to the countertop and myself sink down onto the floor. I was having trouble picking which emotion I wanted to take center stage in the moment. But I was pretty sure I would have to take some pleasure away from Hadley and punch Oliver myself, and then possibly move onto Alex.