Aloud and obnoxious ringtone shatters the silence of my bedroom and successfully cuts through the tranquility of my deep sleep. My eyes struggle to open, as my face contorts in confusion and annoyance from being so rudely awakened. Groggily, I lift my head off the pillow, desperately scanning the room for the source of the aggravating loud music. Gael is sleeping soundly beside me throughout the whole chaotic mayhem, making me envy his dead-to-the-world slumber.
Thankfully, after a few seconds, my mind clears enough for me to logically pinpoint that the sound is coming from my phone that is currently perched on the nightstand beside me, vibrating and flashing away with the blinding screen.
“What the…” I grumble as I stretch my arm and clumsily grab my phone, knocking my notebook and pen to the floor.
“Argh,” I groan, struggling to unlock the damn thing as my vision adjusts to the sudden unwelcome brightness.
Who could possibly be calling me at this ungodly hour?
“Hello?” I greet drowsily, my eyelids still weighing a ton.
“Hello to you too, hot stuff!” a familiar overexcited voice responds.
“Daisy?” I croak, pulling my phone to my face to see what time it is. “It’s three in the morning.”
“I think what you meant to say is happy birthday, big sis,” she singsongs, elated.
“You know it’s custom for people to call the birthday girl, not the other way around.” I chuckle, pulling my arm over my eyes to block the phone’s light from my vision.
“I couldn’t wait! Besides, I have some amazing news to tell you.” She squeals with glee.
“Can’t it wait until…oh, I don’t know…when I’m at least awake enough for you to tell me?”
“Oh, believe me, you’ll wake up after I tell you this. You might want to sit down.”
‘I’m still in bed, Daisy. Like most normal people are at three in the morning.” I yawn exaggeratedly to make my point. “Just come out with it already so I can go back to sleep.”
“Have it your way, but I doubt you’ll get any sleep tonight after I tell you my big news.” Daisy giggles. “You ready?”
“Yes, Daisy. Out with it.”
“Hold on to your hat, little sis, ‘cause your big sister is getting married!”
“You’re what?!” I blurt out, rising from my bed, fully awake now. Gael stirs in his sleep with the sudden loud outburst.
Shit.
“Give me a sec,” I whisper to her, and then nestle the phone to my chest to muffle Daisy’s excited laughter.
Ever so carefully, I slide out of the bed and rush to the living room so I don’t wake my boyfriend up while I talk to Daisy. Once I’m there, I sit on the armrest of the couch and take a deep breath before pulling the phone back up to my ear.
“Did you just say you’re getting married?” I ask, unable to mask my astonishment.
“Yep! Derrick asked me to marry him, and I said yes! Can you believe it?!” she screams happily.
“No. Not really,” I choke out, trying to make sense of what she’s saying.
“Jesus, Sky. I thought you’d be more excited for me,” she retorts, sounding hurt that I’m not throwing fireworks after hearing such an announcement.
“I am excited for you. Truly, I am. It’s just not what I was expecting,” I confess, trying my best to sound upbeat and failing miserably.
“Not what you were expecting?!” she counters, confused. “Derrick and I have been dating since high school, Sky. Sooner or later, this was bound to happen.”
“Yes, I know. I just never thought you were the marrying kind. You always said that it was an archaic institution created by the patriarchy,” I explain, trying to defend why I’m shocked by this news.
“I know, and I still believe that. Before I met Derrick, I never saw myself walking down the aisle for any man. But for him…” she sighs dreamingly. “I love him, Sky. I want to be his wife more than anything in this world.”
“Of course you do. I’m sorry. You just caught me off guard, that’s all. I’m happy for you, Daisy. Really, I am,” I tell her and mean it.
“You better be, since I need you here to plan this wedding with me.” She giggles. “Thatcher’s Bay will be talking about this wedding for years to come.”
“Daisy—” I start to protest but my sister is having none of it.
“Nope. Don’t Daisy me, Sky. This is my wedding we’re talking about. I want you here and that’s the end of it,” she states, leaving me little room to argue with her.
“Can I at least think about it?”
When the line goes quiet, I know I’ve hurt her with my hesitance.
She was so excited to tell me her big news and here I am pissing all over it.
God, I suck.
“Sky, I want you to listen closely,” she starts, her tone dead serious. “I love you. I love you with all my heart. So much so that I didn’t complain or give you a hard time for not coming home these past seven years. I didn’t give you any grief when you skipped out on all the Thanksgivings and Christmases over the years, preferring to spend it with Dad on the mainland. I didn’t say a word when you didn’t come home for the summer holidays either. I was the first to back you up with Mom when you said that you needed to work through those months. I’ve always respected your choices and supported you through and through.” She lets out a dispirited exhale. “But this is my wedding, Sky. My wedding. No excuse you could ever give for not coming will ever make it right with me. I need my sister. I miss my sister. So take your time and think about it if you want, but if your answer is anything but yes, then I’ll never forgive you.”
Fuck
Fuck.
Fuck!
“Daisy—”
“The wedding will be in two months,” she interjects in an even tone. “I’ve made Derrick wait long enough for me over the years. I refuse to make him wait any longer. I want you here to help me plan this wedding, Sky. I want my sister to share in my happiness as I would be honored and grateful to share in hers if the tables were reversed. If you can’t do that…if you can’t stand by my side on what should be the happiest day of my life…then I guess you’re not the sister I thought you were.”
And with that threat, she hangs up.
Pissed with myself more than I am at Daisy for giving me such an ultimatum, I throw my phone across the room, slamming it loudly against the wall and shattering it completely.
She’s right.
If I had called her up in the middle of the night, telling her I was engaged, Daisy would be on the first flight to Boston. She wouldn’t think twice about being by my side, elated that I finally found the happiness she always wished for me.
And what did I do in return?
Shit all over her news.
“Goddamn it!” I curse in frustration, punching the headrest of the couch.
“Bad news?” Gael asks behind me, wiping the sleep away from his eyes.
“Shit. I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
“Little bit.” He smiles warmly, wrapping his arms around my waist and bending down just low enough to hide his face in the crook of my neck. “Everything okay?” he whispers lovingly.
I shake my head.
“I figured as much. Want me to make you some tea or something?”
“I think I’ll need something stronger than that,” I admit, my shoulders sagging in defeat.
“Vodka it is then.” He smiles into my neck and then places a tender kiss on my cheek.
Gael releases me from his comforting hug and walks over to the kitchen to grab me a stiff drink. I slide down onto the couch and grab a pillow to hug. When Gael returns to the living room with a tall glass of vodka on the rocks, I eagerly grab it from his hands and take a large swig. I watch him sit on the coffee table across from me, waiting patiently for me to tell him what’s wrong.
I take another two sips of the hard liquor and force the words out of my mouth.
“Daisy’s getting married.”
When Gael’s expression doesn’t change, my stomach churns.
“But you already knew that. Derrick told you, didn’t he?” I ask, unable to hide the accusation in my voice.
When he nods, my anger surfaces.
“Thanks for the heads up,” I seethe through gritted teeth after drinking the rest of the clear liquid in one full swing.
“Don’t be angry with me, babe. All I knew was that Derrick was going to propose to your sister on her birthday. He made me promise not to tell you, fearing you’d ruin the surprise. Besides, I had no way of knowing she would actually say yes. This is Daisy we’re talking about. She’s always been a bit of a commitment-phobe.” He shrugs unapologetically.
“Of course she was going to say yes! She’s crazy about him,” I defend, not liking anyone talking smack about Daisy even if it’s true.
“You’re angry,” he states, as if he’s telling me something I don’t know.
“What gave it away?” I scoff.
“Maybe we should talk tomorrow when you’re calmer,” he says while getting up to his feet.
“I hate it when you do that,” I mumble under my breath.
“Do what?” He arches an inquisitive brow.
“Act like you’re the adult in this relationship,” I rebuke with a bite to my voice.
“Stop acting like a spoiled child and I won’t have to be,” he says defensively, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“Wow. Condescending much?” I counter, cutting my eyes to him.
Gael drags his hand over his face, his tell-tale sign that he’s becoming frustrated with me.
“It’s late, Skylar, and it’s obvious you’re looking for a fight. I’m not going to give you one.”
“Surprise, surprise.” I roll my eyes at him.
That’s how it’s always been with us.
Anytime we’re about to have a fight, Gael always finds a way to recuse himself from said confrontation. He only resurfaces when he’s sure that the tension between us has subsided for us to have a civil conversation, always needing to be the pacifist in our relationship.
When we first started dating after I graduated from Dartmouth and moved to Boston, I found his way of dealing with conflict refreshing. I’d had plenty of boyfriends and hookups back in college who loved nothing more than creating a bit of drama to keep things interesting. Usually when that happened, I made sure to break things off since I had more than enough drama in my teen years to last me a lifetime and had no interest in repeating those old toxic habits.
Gael was different.
I liked how he preferred for us to talk about our problems when neither one of us was angry or upset. I liked how he was vulnerable with his feelings and allowed me room to be vulnerable with mine, giving us both a safe space to talk about our issues and confront them with a cool and collected level head. But after three years together, his passive way of dealing with me whenever I’m in a mood has only served to annoy me. Sometimes I wish he would stoop to my level and argue with me, lose all control and curse and fight and fuck.
Maybe if he did that, I wouldn’t feel so alone in my darkness.
I’ve come to realize that Gael isn’t capable of such a thing though.
Gael is light. Sweet and tender. He’s the embodiment of good.
But me?
My insides are a mangled mess, hungry for the comforting taste of misery and pain.
Only in the dark do I find solace.
It’s that same darkness that runs through my veins now and coaxes me to follow Gael as he retreats back into the bedroom.
“What’s so bad about wanting to fight? Maybe fighting with the person you’re in a relationship with is a sign that you still give a fuck?” I shout at the top of my lungs.
“I hate it when you’re vulgar. It’s beneath you, that type of crass talk.” He shakes his head, disappointed.
‘Well, I hate your holier than thou attitude.”
“Are we really doing this, Skylar?” he asks, his warm brown eyes saddened. “Is this really what you want? To fight with me?”
“I don’t see anyone else around.” I shrug.
“I refuse to be your punching bag just because you’re angry with yourself.”
“Me?” My eyes widen. “Why would I be angry with me?”
“Because your sister just called to say that she was getting married, and you have no idea how to get out of it without breaking her heart. That’s your baggage, Skylar. Not mine,” he snaps, going straight to the route of my pain before grabbing his discarded pants and putting them on.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” he rebukes. “I’m going home before you say something we’ll both regret.”
I jump to the bed and snatch his shirt away from him before he has time to put it on.
“No. You’re staying here so we can talk,” I order furiously.
“We’re not talking, Skylar. You’re yelling and I’m trying very hard not to.”
“Then yell! Shout! Show some kind of emotion!”
“Why would I when you have more than enough for the both of us,” he replies, grabbing his jacket and putting it on, forgoing his shirt. He then begins to look for his shoes and socks, sitting on the bed after he finds them to put them on.
I sit back on my heels on top of the bed and just stare at his back.
“God. You really don’t have it in you, do you? Is there nothing that sets you off?”
Gael stops what he’s doing and turns around, grabbing my face in his soft hands.
“You want to know what sets me off, Skylar?” he says softly, staring deep into my eyes. “The fact that my girlfriend of three years still refuses to live with me sets me off. Or the fact that the woman I love still can’t say she loves me back. And don’t even get me started on how angry I am that we’re fighting right now just because you need someone to put your frustrations on, just because you’re too scared to go back to Thatcher’s Bay. For a reason I still don’t fully understand. All those things set me off, Skylar. But I’m fucking here. I’m fucking doing the work to keep our relationship going.”
My throat burns at the way his eyes water in suffering—suffering that I’ve caused him.
“If it’s this hard for you, then why are you still here?” I ask bitterly, hating that I’m pushing him away instead of easing his pain.
“I ask myself that question every day,” he confesses despondently. “I was hoping one day you’d prove to me that this was all worth it.”
The love in his eyes strangles my heart to the point of pain.
“Maybe I’m not worth it,” I whisper, the fight in me long gone.
He leans his head into mine and breathes me in.
“You’re worth it, Skylar. But I’m starting to realize that maybe you don’t think that I am.”
He presses a kiss to my temple and then abruptly pulls away and stands up.
“Gael,” I begin to plead softly, my rage completely extinguished. I open my mouth to tell him not to go, but he beats me to the punch and pulls the rug right out from under me with his next words.
“I think maybe we need a break.”
“What?” I croak out in disbelief.
Gael runs his fingers through his disheveled hair, gaining courage to continue.
“I’ll probably regret this in the morning, but something is off between us. And if I’m being truly honest with myself, it’s been off from the get-go. I tried to make excuses for your inability to commit to me. That it’s an Ames sisters flaw, sprung up from your parents’ divorce. I kept telling myself that you were hurt once before and that it would take time for you to trust again. But I’ve been here, Skylar. I’ve been here waiting for you to let me in. To be in this with me,” he says, letting out an exhale. “But I’ve always felt that I got the ghost of you. Just a sliver of what your love could actually feel like. I’m tired of dating a ghost, Skylar. I want a woman who loves me as much as I love her. And though I love you with every fiber of my being, I don’t think you’ll ever be able to love me the same way.”
We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. I know he’s waiting for me to deny everything he just said. On bated breath he waits, and my heart breaks as I watch Gael clinging to hope, holding on to it so tightly that if he lets go, he’ll shatter into a million pieces.
If I tell him that I love him, he’ll stay.
If I tell him that I love him, he’ll come back to bed and hold me tight, promising to never let me go.
Just say it, Sky!
Just tell him that you love him.
But the words remain lodged in my throat, unwilling to come out.
Because I know the truth.
Gael is a gentle wind determined to breathe life and light into the world, while I’m a furious storm intent on destroying everything in its path.
Gael would never survive me.
When he realizes that I’m not going to say anything, he bows his head and takes in a fortifying breath before meeting my eyes again.
“A break will do us both some good,” he says, trying to convince himself more than me. “It will give us some perspective.”
The only perspective Gael will get from time apart is the realization that he’s too good for me.
“For whatever it’s worth, I think you should go to Daisy and be at your sister’s side. You’ll regret it if you don’t,” he adds solemnly, and when he begins to pass me by, I jump off the bed and step in his way to stop him from leaving.
“Gael,” his name comes out desperate and wrong. “Don’t do this.”
He cups my cheeks in his palms and broken-heartedly looks me in the eye.
“I love you, Skylar. So much. But I need more. I need more than you’re willing to give.”
“What if I can’t?” I choke on a sob.
“You can. I know you can. I just wish you could with me.”
He then leans in and softly brushes his lips to mine. It’s only as I watch Gael leave my apartment, that I admit to myself that I’ll never be able to love him like he deserves.
I’ll never be able to love like anyone.
And that all comes down to him.
The reason why I never intended to return to Thatcher’s Bay.
Not even for my sister’s wedding.
After all these years, he still manages to ruin every good thing in my life.
Spoiling every memory. Every hope and dream.
How I hate him for it.
But Gael is right.
If I miss Daisy’s wedding, she’ll never forgive me. My relationship with my mother is already strained enough, with me not coming home and preferring to spend my holidays either working or at my father’s in Falmouth.
But if I miss Daisy’s wedding?
I’ll end up losing my whole family for good.
Silent tears stream down my cheeks, as I walk around my living room in search of my phone. With a self-deprecating chuckle I pick it up from the floor, staring at the cracked screen as if it’s mocking my current circumstance. I let out a relieved exhale after determining that the phone, although battered and bruised, still works. I pull out the thread of messages between me and Daisy and begin to write.
Me: I’m sorry.
It takes just seconds before I get her reply.
Daisy: I know.
Me: I’ll be there.
Daisy: I’ll believe it when I see it.
Me: I said I was sorry.
Daisy: You have until the end of the week to get here. Don’t break my heart, Sky. I’m counting on you.
Me: No pressure.
Daisy. Where’s the fun in that? Luv u
Me: Love you too.
After I’ve made sure that I’ve patched things up with Daisy, I go over to the kitchen and grab the vodka bottle out of the fridge. I then go back to the living room and grab my laptop to book my flight home.
Home.
I’ve lived most of my life on the mainland, but anytime I think of home, my mind always travels back to Thatcher’s Bay.
They say that home is where the heart is.
They’re not wrong.
Thatcher’s Bay is where I left mine.
And I’ve been living perfectly content without it ever since.
I have no desire to visit its deformed existence or retrieve it from the villain who butchered it.
But I guess I don’t have much of a choice.
I’m going home, whether I’m ready to or not.
I’m going home.
For Daisy.
