“Fine, don't talk,” Bonnie conceded, stepping back. “But don't hold it inside Roxy. Acknowledge it. Please. It's too much for you to cope with alone. I won't let you do that to yourself.”
“You're a fine one to talk!” I accused, hearing the venom coating my words, wishing I could stop it. “When do you ever spill your guts, hey? When was the last time you opened up to me?”
Bonnie just shrugged, unapologetic. “If I have something I want to say, I'll say it.”
“Well, the same goes for me too, so just back off, okay?”
Bonnie stared silently at me for a moment, and then gave a small nod of defeat. Breathing hard, I picked up a bottle of wine from the counter and opened it, pouring a generous glass for myself and another for Bonnie. Wordlessly, I handed it to her and then took a swig of my own. The alcohol travelled through my veins, warming, calming. I took a deep breath and looked back at Bonnie. She was watching me over the rim of her glass, waiting. Hoping, I thought. Hoping I would give in and spill my heart. Bonnie liked to fix things. She liked to focus on my pain, Isabel's pain, anyone else's pain as long as it wasn't her own. But I couldn't give her anything. I wouldn't do it. Not today.
“How was the gig last night?” I asked instead, noticing the false cheery tone that emerged from my lips. I was being shrill. Bonnie scowled and pulled out a stool from the breakfast bar, taking a deep gulp of her wine. Resigned to the wall I had put up, she gave in and answered the question.
“Not bad,” she conceded. “The crowd was better than I'd expected and Lewis got over the tonsillitis in time to go on. We almost had to cancel. Wouldn't have been much of a show without a singer,” she shrugged, still serious.
“Are they going to book you again?”
“Yeah, I think so. We got given a card from another guy too, he wants to book us for a festival. Not sure we're going to do it though.”
“You should. You need to say yes to everything that comes your way. Keep your options open, get yourselves seen. That's how you make it Bon-bon.”
“I suppose.”
“Don't you want the band to do well? Is there something else you'd rather do?”
“It's not that... I just. Oh, I don't know. It doesn't matter.” She looked up at me and I could see that she was coming full circle back to my problems again. “Look Rox, I know you're going through a tough time, but...”
“Bonnie – ” I pleaded cutting her off. I brought my hands up to my eyes, anticipating tears already. She always knew how to set me off. “I just want to have a nice day with my family. I don't want it ruined.”
“It won't be –”
The door banged open and we both looked round to see Lucas walking into the room, carrying a bag of ice. “Oh, hey Bonnie,” he smiled. “Nipped out to get more of this,” he said, holding up his frosty loot. “It's bloody stifling today. We'll eat on the patio I think.”
Bonnie nodded. I caught her throw a cool glance in Lucas's direction, their eyes meeting briefly in mutual understanding. My stomach clenched as I watched them. I jumped up and crossed the room, smiling brightly and kissing him, desperately trying to show them both that I was okay. “I'm going to set the table while we wait for Isabel,” I announced brightly, picking up a tray stacked with glasses and cutlery and heading outside. Lucas watched me go, and I couldn't miss the deep frown furrowed into his brow.
I stepped out into the bright, July sunshine, but rather than setting the cutlery out ready for our lunch, I placed the tray quietly down on the bleached wooden table and stole around the side of the house, crouching beneath the kitchen window to listen in.
“It happened again, didn't it?” Bonnie was saying, a statement more than a question. Cautiously, I turned in a squat, leaning in against the wall. I raised myself up so I could peer through the window that looked in over the sink. The windowsill was covered in colourful ceramic pots, all containing fresh herbs that I had grown from seed. I peered beneath a bushel of overhanging coriander and saw my husband crouched beside the freezer, the drawer half open. He pushed it closed and remained unmoving, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Slowly, he stood up, slamming the freezer door and bracing himself against it. He spoke without turning to face Bonnie, his head lolling to rest against the door.
“She won't say. But yes. I'm sure of it. There was blood earlier this week. A lot of blood. But she won't talk.”
Bonnie let out a whoosh of air, and squeezed her hands into fists. “Shit.” She jumped off the stool and strode over to where Lucas was standing, placing her hand on his shoulder. I felt a sharp stab of guilt that she was comforting him when I should be, and for a second I contemplated going back inside.
Lucas turned slowly to face Bonnie and I saw the sadness in his eyes. His pain was my pain. And yet I was shutting him out completely. I knew I was being unfair to him, I knew I should talk to him about what was happening, but everything we could say had been said before. We had been through this same story too many times to have anything new to add to the pile, so I cut him off, my sadness too much for me to bear, unwilling to add his hurting to my burden. I was a horrible person and I knew it.
Bonnie scowled, her fists swinging restlessly at her sides, unsure where to direct her frustrations. And then, she grabbed the bear of a man, pulling him down into a tight hug. “Oh, Lucas, I'm sorry. I know this hurts you just as much as it hurts her. I'm so fucking sorry, it's not fair.”
Lucas said nothing for a moment. “Me too,” he finally rasped, pulling back and wiping at his eyes. Was he crying? I stared hard, trying to see better. My calves were beginning to burn, but I didn't dare to move in case they heard me. “I don't know what to do,” he continued. “I don't know how to make it stop happening. This was the fifth time. Can you even believe that? The fifth fucking time. How is that fair? Why does it keep on happening?”
“I know,” Bonnie shook her head. “Roxy doesn't deserve this. Neither do you.”
“Nobody does,” Lucas said wryly. “I can't keep putting her through this. There has to be a cut off point. It's killing her.”
“You mean, you want to stop?”
“I want to protect her. From everything. There is so much pain. Too much fucking pain. It's reckless to keep going.”
I bit my lip hard, wanting to put my hands over my ears, but unable to stop myself from listening to more. He couldn't be about to say it, could he? He wouldn't do that to me, to us!
Bonnie's voice drifted out to me. “But it's what she wants. What you both want, isn't it?”
Lucas sighed and bowed his head. “I did. But maybe I'm not willing to pay the price anymore.” He ran his hand roughly over his chin, and I noticed that he hadn't shaved. As I took a moment to appraise him, I realised how dark the circles around my husband's eyes had become. How sunken his cheek bones. This was killing him too.
“There are other options we can pursue,” Lucas continued wearily. “It doesn't have to be the end. But she won't even talk about it. I don't know what else I can do.” My attention was suddenly drawn towards the road, the sound of a car pulling up. Isabel. Swiftly and silently, I moved away from the open window, and busied myself at the table as if I had been there all along. But I couldn't get Lucas's words out of my head. Other options we can pursue. How could he even think of stopping before we'd succeeded? How could he give up on us, on our family?
I wouldn't let him. I would never give up.
Chapter Three