I can feel myself losing control. “Oh, don’t act like the victim now. You showed your true colours when you turned up at the cottage. Oh, and maybe when you screwed the worst human in the world,” I seethe.
“Harri, I was drunk and angry at you. You left me.” He shrugs sheepishly, careful not to be confrontational. Weak. This man is weak.
The anger bubbles under me, screaming in my veins to be released until I can’t take it anymore. A primal scream pushes itself out of my throat as magic flies out of the tips of my fingers and into the pictures behind Greg, smashing them to the floor. My breath pants and tears begin to pour down my face.
“You just had to move on. Leave me alone and move on,” I sob.
He shuffles to comfort me, trying to step over the glass now smashed all over the corridor. But he changes his mind, opting to brush back his hair and stand there for a moment at the girl in front of him.
He whispers quietly to me. “Come and sit, Harri. I’ll make you a drink.” He gestures to our living room. The kindness that Greg sometimes shows glistens in his eyes as he speaks.
I pause for a moment, looking at the now smashed pictures of us on the floor. Our engagement photos. “This is so fucked up, you know that, right?”
He stares at me for a moment before mumbling, “I know.”
“Then why?” I whisper back, the pain in my heart radiating into my body.
“I’ll make us a drink.” He gestures again to the living room.
Defeated, I follow.
I sit on the sofa and look around the sterile, lifeless room. The cleanliness and minimalism used to be something I loved. Now I look at it as an empty shell.
Greg makes us both a coffee and sets mine down on the coffee table.
He clears his throat. “You know, I didn’t choose this either. I was told to marry you. Told that this is the life I must live.”
I look at him. I can see the truth in the sadness in his eyes. I didn’t stop to think that maybe this was not what he wanted.
“It’s just what it is.” He sips his coffee.
I turn to him and grab his hands. “But it doesn’t have to be, Greg. You don’t have to be this way. If you don’t want this as much as I don’t then just say. Stop it. Tell your parents to stop.” I can feel my fingernails digging into his skin. I am desperate and pleading.
He pulls his hands from mine. “It’s not as simple as that, Harri. And remember, it’s your dad too.” His voice is frustrated with me.
He is right. It’s not just his family. It’s mine too.
He looks at me with puppy dog eyes. “Plus, I was hoping we could make it, you know, work,” he whispers, looking at me greedily.
My heart stops in my chest. “Greg, please don’t.” I shuffle back on the sofa to put some space between us.
He closes the gap. “Why, Harri? We used to be happy. We can get that again, forget what has happened, with both of us, with other people and just focus on us.” Is this boy delusional or has he been that spoilt that he just thinks whining is going to get him what he wants?
“I can’t, Greg.” I pull myself away again and shake my head. “You know I can’t do that.”
He holds his hands out towards me, begging me. “I know Imessed up, but I am willing to work on this. I do love you, Harri, even as you are. Even with the things you have done.”
“Done?” My tone changes. What does he mean by done?
“That boy. Yes, I slept with Lauren, but you’ve been fucking another man the whole time you’ve been away.” He stares at me, his eyes glazing over with iciness.
“Oh, fuck off, Greg. He isn’t the reason why this didn’t work.” I point at us.
He reaches to the coffee table, placing his coffee down and pulling a half-empty bottle of whiskey to him. Slowly and intentionally he unscrews the cap and swigs from the bottle. He wipes the residue from his lips with the back of his hand.
“So, what was it then?” he asks, eyes narrowed and ready to snap.
“I don’t love you, Greg.” It blurts out and spears him the chest. He sits for a moment. Silent. Taking in what I have just said.
