The alarm on my phone went off far too early this morning. I wasn’t in a rush to get to Dundee, but I couldn’t stay in Glasgow. As I flapped about Roger’s lounge, he came in and handed me a cup of tea. He then sat on the sofa and asked, ‘You know HP. He never says anything. What happened between you two?’
‘He slept with Candy and somehow decided to be mad at me about it,’ I said.
‘He didn’t sleep with Candy,’ Roger said.
‘Okay, he kissed her then,’ I responded.
‘He did no such thing. He’s never been into Candy. He may not tell me much, but I know when he’s got a hard on for someone, and he’s not into her. Not like that. He respects her. But that’s it. Besides, HP is one of the most stand-up guys I know. He’d never cheat on you. Ever.’
I told Roger about Halloween, and how I saw him lean in to kiss Candy in the upstairs bedroom.
‘That wasn’t HP,’ he said.
I was confused.
‘He told me about that night. Candy’s ex-husband crashed the party then cornered her in a bedroom. He totally jumped her and half the party came to the rescue when they heard shouting. Well, I don’t think they came to her rescue. They turned up in time to see her thump him over the head with a lamp.’
He then added, ‘How drunk were you that night?’
‘Pretty smashed,’ I added sheepishly.
‘You fucking moron. Your drunk goggles mistook Candy’s ex-husband for your boyfriend.’
Oh god. It just gets worse. What the hell have I done? Although it still didn’t explain why HP and Candy were so close, or the ‘secret’ he told her, or why he’s been so mad at me. But, fuck. I thought he’d been a cheat.
I had gathered all my stuff and put on some clean clothes. As I went to drag myself out of the flat, Roger told me to hold up for a moment. He said that taking all that stuff on the train would be a mess, so ‘someone’ has come to collect me and take me back to Dundee. I looked out the window and there was HP’s car, double parked.
Let me just note that the uncomfortable silence that lasted almost to Perth was horrible. I wanted to say I was sorry, that I thought he slept with Candy. But I also wanted to scream at him for being mad at me, and I wanted to tell him that none of it was fair. If he’d just talk to me for once, all of this could have been avoided. But I also didn’t want him asking about Glasgow, where I was staying, or why I fled to Roger’s house in the middle of the night.
Just before Perth I couldn’t take it any longer, so I just asked. ‘Why are you mad at me? What happened to make you so angry?’
He was quiet for so long I didn’t think he was going to answer. Then he said it, ‘I just don’t like you any more. I’m sorry, but I don’t.’
What the hell? That’s not an answer.
But, the yelling in my head did not come to my lips. I stayed calm and said, ‘I’m obviously sorry to hear that. But why? What did I do?’
This is where I expected him to do the ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ routine. I was wrong.
‘Honestly. You’ve become a horrible person over the last year. Ever since I moved to Dundee and we bought the flat. All you do is complain and talk about people behind there backs. You bitch about everything and everyone. We used to have a really great time together, but now you are just miserable. All the time.’
I couldn’t believe he said that. I don’t complain. Well, not all the time. I do complain sometimes. But then again, that shouldn’t matter. People go through shit and their partner should stand by them.
‘Yeah, but things have been kind of shit lately. Work, and well, us. So, yeah I’m kind of bitchy when you don’t pay attention to me and spend all your time with our neighbour,’ I said.
‘Do you know why I spend time with Candy? Not because she’s fun, but because she’s positive. She’s been through much worse than you, and she’s moving forward. She doesn’t keep drama in her life. And she’s kind to people. I can’t stand how selfish you get. I just can’t take your drama any longer.’
He then paused and added, ‘It’s not that I don’t love you. I do. I love you very much. But, you make me unhappy. And, evidently, I make you unhappy too.’
We rode the rest of the way in silence. I got my stuff into our flat, and he went to work. I’m in my room just now trying to will myself to shower and get to work, even if it is noon. But I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach.