31
Martin is waiting for me when I turn up at his doorstep the next morning.
I say ‘doorstep’. When we broke up, Martin was forced to move back in with his parents for a bit, because the house belonged to me, and there was nowhere else for him to go. Six months later, he’s still there, living back in the flat above the baker’s, and next door to the bookshop; which means I have to spend an awkward few minutes talking to his mum about our respective Christmas plans, before she lets me go through the shop and upstairs to find him.
“I know why you’re here,” he says, as soon as he opens the door. His face is pale and waxy, and he looks like he hasn’t slept; which could just mean he’s been up all night gaming as usual, of course, but which I secretly hope is a sign that he’s been tortured with guilt.
“Yeah, I expect you do,” I comment, following him into the living room, which looks out onto the village square, just like our old flat next door. From where I’m standing, I have a perfect view of both the Christmas tree and the snow globe; neither of which does much to improve my mood.
It’s Christmas Eve, and I could not possibly feel less festive.
“Why did you do it?” I ask bluntly, not bothering to sit down. “Why didn’t you tell me Elliot was looking for me that night? And why did you tell him I didn’t want to see him? Don’t bother denying you did it; Iknowyou did it. I just want to know why, that’s all.”
Martin opens his eyes very wide, in a way that makes me think he’s probably been practicing what he thinks is an ‘innocent’ look in the mirror, in preparation for this.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he says, holding his hands out like a man begging for his life. He’s obviously been practicing that too. “I did it for you, Holly. I did it forlove.”
Aaaand it looks like he’s been listening to some particularly cheesy love songs, too. I think I might throw up if this continues.
“You know I’ve always loved you, Holly,” he says earnestly, trying to take my hand and failing. “Ever since we were at school together. Remember how we used to sit together at lunch? And how we’d always pick each other when we had to pair up for something in class?”
“I sat next to Fern Clark at lunch,” I tell him. “And the teacher always paired people up. I think I remember being put with you once? Maybe?”
“Oh, come on, Holly,” Martin says beseechingly. “We were made for each other. Living next door, both of us the children of entrepreneurs…”
“Martin, none of this is even remotely relevant,” I snap, already exhausted by him. “You don’t hack someone’s email just because they lived next door when you were kids and once shared a packet of Quavers at break time. And if we were destined to be together, you wouldn’t have had to lie to make it happen.”
I see hope spark behind his eyes at the mention of the Quavers — that was a mistake on my part — so I move quickly on.
“You did do that, didn’t you?” I ask. “You hacked my email? And you did something to my phone to block Elliot from calling me?”
“I didn’thackit,” he says, pouting. “Your dadgaveme the laptop. And you gave me the phone. So I didn’t have tohackanything, I just…”
“Oh my God, stop being so pedantic!” I slap my forehead in frustration. “It doesn’t matter what the technical term is for whatever you did; you didsomething. And you outright lied to Elliot when you told him I didn’t want to hear from him.”
Martin stares at his feet. He’s wearing a pair of very sensible slippers that make him look cozy and benign, when, in fact, I now know him to be an arch-maniplulator, and expert gas lighter.
I can’t believe how wrong I was about him.“He wasn’t good for you,” he says at last. “Elliot. He changed you. You weren’t the same person after you met him. And you weren’t thinking straight. Anyone could see that. I could see that. And okay, maybe I shouldn’t have intervened in the way I did. I know it was wrong. But I swear to you, Holly, I was acting in your best interests. I might have done the wrong thing, but I did it for the right reasons. You were being reckless; making decisions that would ruin your life. You’re still doing it now; breaking up with me, taking this silly ghostwriting job. It’s not you, Holly. And I’m just trying to help you. That’s all I want.”
I glare at him through narrowed eyes, trying to figure out which TV show or superhero movie he’s blatantly stolen the ‘wrong thing, right reasons’ line from. I know it’s not his. Martin doesn’t have a single original thought in his head. He’s not like…
But anyway.
“Elliot didn’t change me, Martin,” I say slowly. “I’ve always been like this. You just didn’t know me well enough to see it.”
Buthedid. Elliot did. Elliot saw me. And he didn’t turn me into someone I wasn’t; he just helped me see the person who was there all along. And now that I’ve been reminded of who she is, I think it’s maybe time I started getting to know her again.
“There are no right reasons for what you did, Martin,” I tell him firmly, pleased to see that my voice is only shaking a little bit. “None. You barely even knew me back then. We weren’t friends. And even if we had been, my life is my own, to ruin as I see fit. It wasn’t your place to decide that for me. It wasn’t your place to decideanythingfor me; and it never will be, because I never want to see or hear from you again, okay? I’m blocking your number. I’m changing my Netflix password. And if I ever see you in the street, I will cross to the other side, and pretend I didn’t. Is that clear?”
Martin nods miserably, looking like a schoolboy who’s just been given detention.
I straighten my shoulders, proud of myself. The old Holly would never have stood up to him like that. She would never have asserted herself. But I did it. And the new Holly may technically have been lying when she said she’d change her Netflix password, because she’s not totally sure how to do that, but still: she’ll figure it out, just like she’ll figure out everything else.
We’ll figure it out together.
That’s what Elliot said last night; right before he said that thing about how I’d feel on my deathbed, when I realized I’d spent my entire life without him, just to avoid getting hurt.
But I’m already hurt. I can see that now. I’ve been hurting for ten years now, and if you give me another ten, I’m pretty sure I’ll be hurting still.
