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At least during that time I was able to speak to her, text her, and I still felt connected to her in some way. This is torture. I think the worst thing is that I don’t know if she’s okay. My mind keeps replaying all her symptoms, and I kept looking for signs of ones she might not have told me about. Then I did the only thing a sleep deprived man could do, I Googled her symptoms. Let me tell you now, no good can come from trying to diagnose on Google. Now I’m not sure if she has a fucking brain tumour or a migraine.
I feel like the past couple of weeks I’ve just been existing, going to work, coming home, and just waiting. Waiting to hear from her. But I never do, and that fucking kills me.
“Fuck off, asshole. You sound like a petulant child, and I didn’t even invite you here,” I snap back at Craig, who has that annoying fucking grin on his face, like he knows exactly what he’s doing by winding me up.
I put my phone away, because as much as it calms me to see her picture, it also drives me a little crazy just waiting for a text to come that I now realise isn’t going to. I know I need to move on. Hell, Craig tells me I have to every fucking day, but I’m not ready to yet.
“I came to make sure you are alright. I may be an asshole, but you’re still my best friend and I’m worried about you,” he says, and it’s the first time in a long time that I can hear he genuinely means it.
“I’m fine,” I grumble, though I know he deserves a lot more than me being a dick to him when he’s actually making an effort to be a nice person, which isn’t something he does very often. It’s just this is a really hard subject matter for me.
Craig chuckles, and I’m back to wanting to punch him. He must be able to see the scowl on my face as he holds his hands up, palms facing me in an effort to calm me down. “Relax, I was just going to say that you are definitely not fine, and I don’t blame you. But, I do have some news for you.”
“What news?” I ask.
“Emmaleigh has had a diagnosis, although it’s not something she’s divulged to people yet. She’s on long-term sick leave from work, but they believe she will be starting treatment soon. I got the impression that this isn’t something she will be cured of, but she can manage it. That’s all I could find out for you,” Craig explains, and I sit there with my mouth open wide, a mixture of shock and concern plastered across my face.
“How?” I mumble, unable to even get a full sentence out. Has he been talking to Em, but she won’t talk to me? If so, I don’t think I will be able to hold myself back from killing him.
“Remember when we went to the strike?” he asks, and I nod. Of course I can’t forget that day. It was our last proper day together. “Well, she introduced me to a few of her friends that day. One of them, Bessy, well… I took her out last night to get the information you needed.”
I shake my head, wondering why the hell, even just for a minute, I thought he’d changed. “Please tell me you didn’t fuck one of Emmaleigh’s friends just to get answers.”
A sheepish look spreads across his face and I can’t hold back my groan. “I didn’t sleep with her, but only because she didn’t want to. Apparently she’s doing this new thing where she doesn’t sleep with people on the first date,” he grumbles, and now it’s my turn to laugh.
“Ooh, she turned you down!”
Craig shakes his head. “No. No she did not. We’re going to see each other again.”
“When?” I ask, my brows raised in question.
Craig’s brow furrows like he’s doing a complex maths puzzle. “Erm…we didn’t agree on a date yet.”
I bite my lip to help back the chuckle that’s fighting to break free. My friend is so used to being the one who lets people down, and who uses women, he doesn’t even realise it’s happening to him. Emmaleigh told me all about Bessy, and even before this I couldn’t help but think she’s the type of girl who would give Craig a run for his money. She likes to play around, and clearly Craig didn’t measure up.
I see the moment Craig realises he’s been played, and his face drops, only to be replaced quickly by his usual mask of indifference. “Enough about me, what about the information about Em? Was that not useful to you?” he asks, and my heart aches every time her name is mentioned. I appreciate he was just trying to do something nice for me, but it’s hardly going to help me to move on from her.
“I’m grateful, honestly. It’s just I still don’t have any answers, only more questions, and it’s the lack of answers that’s killing me,” I admit.
Craig shakes his head. “That's not it, man. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I had hoped you’d have worked this out by now. Of course you want to know what’s going on with Em, and to know that she’s okay. But the main reason you are pining after her like a love sick teenager is because you have feelings for her. You can say all you want that you didn’t or that you didn’t want a relationship with her but that’s all bullshit. You were in a relationship, and the only person who didn’t realise that was you. You care about her—maybe even love her—and that’s why you miss her so much. You just have to be honest with yourself.”
With each word Craig says my heart starts to race. He’s saying things I’ve only thought about in the dead of night, when I’m alone in my room and all I have to keep me company are her memories. I’ve been bullshitting myself for a while, telling myself I didn’t like her in that way. Even after the talk with Mum, and she had me reconsidering what it actually means to be in a relationship, I still wasn’t sure. It’s hard to undo years of negative thinking.
But the more I think about it—her—the more I think it is possible I had real feelings for her. Because the truth is, I do miss her. I miss her to the point it physically hurts me, and I don’t have a fucking clue what to do about it.
Thankfully, Craig doesn’t press the issue any further. That’s not who he is. He’s the sort of person who will say just enough to get you thinking about it, but not enough to actually have an adult conversation. Don’t get me wrong, I think if I wanted to have a proper talk with him about my feelings—which I absolutely fucking don’t—he’d do it, because he can be a good friend when he wants to be. I just can’t think of anything worse than opening up about my feelings while he sits there trying not to laugh.
He does manage to distract me with a new Playstation game he brought over though, and we lose ourselves in the game for a couple of hours. The great thing about gaming is you really do have to immerse yourself in the game, which doesn’t leave time for thinking about anything else. I can lose myself for a while, and all thoughts of real life fall away. I don’t have to talk to Craig about anything other than the game, which is perfect.
Just as the current battle we’re in ends, my phone buzzes from in my pocket. I don’t even hesitate, I drop the controller and pull my phone out. The only people who ever text me are my parents, who are downstairs, Craig, who is sitting next to me, and Em.
My heart skips a beat as I quickly type in my passcode to open the phone, but then I see the text is from a number I don’t recognise and I can feel my body sag. It’s not her.
I open the text anyway, getting ready to delete it straight away, as I’m convinced it’s just spam. But as soon as I read the first line, I’m hooked.
UNKNOWN
Hi Lee, I’m Lucy. You don’t know me but I’m Emmaleigh’s best friend. She would kill me if she knew I was doing this, but I took your number from her phone. She’s in a really bad place right now, and her stubbornness means she’s refusing to ask anyone for help. I’m really starting to worry about her. I can’t tell you what’s going on, as that’s not my story to tell, but I can tell you that her refusal to deal with her situation is leading to depression. We have all tried to help her, but we can’t. I know she misses you a lot, and I also know she thinks she has a good reason for pushing you away. I’ve never met you so I could be wrong about this, and I’m sorry if I am, but I think Emmaleigh means more to you than you maybe let on. If that’s true, please don’t let her push you away. More than anything right now, she needs people who will fight for her. But, I only want you to do this if you truly care about her, in the way she deserves. If you can’t go all in, then don’t bother. But if you can, she will be at home all day tomorrow. I know you don’t normally work Saturdays. If you want her, please come and fight for her.
