Bad Decisions - Alex Turner

57. My Lover's Murderer

  After everyone had packed up their belongings, we all moved outside to catch a few taxis from the venue. A cool wind blew over us, making my skin ripple with goosebumps and even then, Alex took off his jacket and wrapped it over my shoulders.

  Everyone else was going to go for kick on drinks at a few bars but Alex and I decided to skip out on joining them, catching a ride back to our hotel on our own.

  I was chewing up the inside of my lip on the entire drive. I knew telling Alex everything was the best decision but I couldn't help but fear I'd already hurt him.

It was the quietest ride I'd ever shared with him. The silence was absolutely suffocating me. Alex must've known my anxiety was beginning to make me nauseous because he reached over and held my hand reassuringly.

"I'm not mad at you," he said softly. "I just want you to talk to me."

I nodded, squeezing his hand and interlocking my fingers with his. He let out a deep sigh and looked out the window. Through the yellow streetlights I could see in his face the internal war he was having with himself. A thousand words flashed across his eyes that he didn't say. Even though he denied it, I knew he was upset. Maybe not at me but definitely at our situation.

  I followed him up to our hotel room, hugging his jacket around me, comforted by his scent wafting off it like he was right next to me even when he was up ahead unlocking our room door. My heart was beating out of my chest as we walked into our room. I found myself frozen by the door as Alex let out an audible sigh, dropping his phone and room card onto the empty desk on his way to the bed.

  He sat down without a word, on the edge facing me and dropped his head into his hands. I wasn't sure whether he was waiting for me to say something or if he was trying to say something himself. I hadn't seen him like this since the first Friendsgiving we shared, where he isolated himself as he worried whether or not he was making Arielle unhappy. And that realisation scared the shit out of me.

"I..." Alex started, interrupting himself with a loud sigh. "I don't know what to do anymore, O."

I bit down on my lip hard as genuine panic flooded my veins. My throat was choked up. I couldn't speak no matter how hard I tried. No matter how many things I had to say.

He looked up at me and instantly I could see the pain in his expression. "I'm trying, baby. I want to help but I can't if I don't know what's wrong."

I opened my mouth to speak but found no words. "Don't say there's nothing wrong, because I know there is," Alex continued, "I can see it in your eyes and it breaks me heart every time you tell me you're okay; because I know you're not and I don't want you feeling like you have to hide it from me so that I won't worry."

  "You don't have to tell me everything," Alex said, his eyebrows knit tightly together and the corners of his mouth being continuously pulled down even when he was talking. "But please, I just wanna help you and I can't do that if you don't let me understand what you're going through."

  "I know..." I said quietly, my voice hitching, "and I'm sorry I've been shut off."

  "I just want you to talk to me, O," Alex begged. His eyes were glistening in the warm light. Just the way he spoke alone broke my heart. He was hurting, so much. There were strains on his voice I'd only ever heard when he was truly upset and broken. And this time, I wasn't the one consolidating him, I was the one who'd hurt him. "That's all I ask," he said, looking at me desperately.

  "I'm here for you, love. I'm always here for you and I want to help. Because..." he began to weep, "...you're so miserable and I can't bare to see you so unhappy anymore. I feel so helpless because I just want to take all that pain from you but I can't because I don't even know what you're thinking anymore. And I'm happy to wait for you to be ready when it comes to going out or sex or any of those things, but I can't wait any longer to know how you feel. So please...please just talk to me."