Page 62 of Eight Weeks
And Ididgo a little bit too much into detail last night.Screw you very much for that, drunk Sofia.
I honestly wish I couldn’t remember what happened after midnight, but I do remember… all too well.
I remember every single time I tried to kiss Aaron back in the barn, and the tons of times he kissed my cheek or forehead instead, then told me—loud enough—that he doesn’t want people around us to feel uncomfortable if we kept on kissing all the time. But I didn’t care, not then anyway. I just wanted to kiss him because these were my only chances I got.
He was the one to say if I wanted to kiss him I shall do so.
When he brought me home, helped me get changed and removed my goddamn makeup for me because drunk Sofia was atadtoo drunk, my heart was melting. And thanks to my heart now taking over my entire body in its liquified state, of course I would spill out some information that were never meant for his ears.
For instance, that I imagined what ourweddingwould be like. Our. Goddamn.Wedding.
“What’s keeping us from being together?” he asks, his eyes on me when I turn around to look at him because it would be rude not to. “You cannot tell me it’s because you don’t want to be with me.”
Didn’t think I could. I mean, you just have to look around my room and it becomes quite obvious. I suppose he made that connection the second he walked in here. And perhaps the fact that I literally admitted to having held on to his promises.
But that’s not my problem. Icanadmit to wanting to be with Aaron. Because I do. I want to be with him so badly, I’d give up figure skating if that meant we could be together.
Unfortunately, my only reason not to be with him isn’t as simple as that.
It’s the fact that I can’t be in New City, or New York, and his entire life is there. His family, his friends, even his career is in New York. And I cannot ask him to give that up, nor would I ever. He’s worked too hard to get to where he’s at now, and I wouldn’t allow him to give that up for me.
I’m sure the NYR already have a spot reserved for him, and to turn down getting drafted by them would be insanely stupid. Especially when I know the New York Rangers have been Aaron’s favorite hockey team since the beginning of time.
And I can’t tell him why I will never be able to live in New York ever again. Going to St. Trewery was a risk, and I’m not going to lie, I was hoping to see Lily and Aaron one last time before we’d never meet again. But I now realize that I’ve only caused more damage than good.
“I’m only in America until the end of February, Aaron,” I let him know. I leave early because I’ve been studying in Germany this entire time, and I will graduate from my university, not St. Trewery.
“But you can come back here.” He sits up straight, eyebrows drawing together like he doesn’t understand what I mean. And maybe he doesn’t at first, but then his eyes widen when he connects the dots. “You don’t plan on moving back, is that it?”
It’s been my plan. I always wanted to come back to him. I always planned on spending my life with Aaron, but then the incident happened and now I cannot enter the New York state without thinking abouthim. Without feeling like I…
“You never planned to come back,” he mumbles to himself, his eyes no longer on me but on the space of mattress in front of him.
I get up from my chair and walk over to my bed, kneel, and take Aaron’s hands in mine. Hurting him is the last thing I want. I shake my head, feeling the tears build up in my eyes when I say, “We came back.”
He looks up, confusion written all over his face.
“We came back when I was twelve years old.” No matter how much this is going to hurt me, it’s better to tell Aaron the truth so he understands that I never planned to leave him. I need him to understand that if I could, I would jump at the opportunity to be with him, to live the life with him he’s promised me. He needs to know that I would do anything in my power to be with him if it weren’t for that one obstacle that’s like the gates of Hell to me.
And so, with taking one more deep breath, I tell him, despite having promised myself to never open up about it.
“We were visiting my grandparents the day we came back,” I start, having his full attention. “I was so excited to see you and Lily again, that all day long, I was begging my parents to leave. We would spend the night in New York at my grandparents’ house, then leave to see you and Lily in the morning.”
His hand tightens around mine, giving it an encouraging squeeze. Aaron lifts my face to his, then motions for me to take a seat next to him, but I can’t. Not before I have told him the entire story.
After this, he might never even want to speak to me ever again.
“I couldn’t sleep all night long, and eventually I got thirsty, so I went downstairs to grab a glass of water. The lights were turned off because I didn’t want to risk waking anyone up, which meant I was sneaking around, but that wasn’t the problem.” I feel like I cannot breathe, but I have to power through. I owe him that much. “At some point, I started to hear noises, like footsteps, and I knew they weren’t mine. It freaked me out, so I started to run upstairs… until I felt someone’s hand grab on to the back of my shirt. I started to scream, to cry, but I wasn’t aware that it would only get worse.”
Even though it’s taking me an eternity to even find words, Aaron doesn’t interrupt me. He sits there and listens patiently.
“I remember kicking around myself, and eventually that hand let go off me. But then I heard a loud noise. It sounded like someone fell down the stairs. My parents woke up from my screams and they came rushing to me. The lights turned on and when I looked down to see who was trying to attack me, I barely had a vision sharp enough to confirm what I saw.” I break out into heavy sobs. “There was blood, Aaron. I have—” I hiccup “—I have never seen so much blood in my entire life. You’d think ten gallons doesn’t sound too much, but it really is. And I didn’t even see the whole ten gallons, obviously, and still it was so goddamn much.”
“I remember my father yelling at me, telling me that I’m out of my mind and that I’ve spooked myself with watching too many of those criminal TV shows. And that—” I gasp for some air. I can feel my heart breaking, again. This was hands down, the worst night of my life. “He said that I killed my grandpa because I just refused to listen to him.”
My father has told me over and over and over again to not watch these TV shows because I was too young and would be too spooked by them. He was right, of course. But did I listen? No. And why didn’t I? Because I was holding a grudge for tearing me away from Aaron and Lily.
So, what did I get out of not listening? I killed my own grandfather.
