Imperfect

Recovery

Finley had agreed to let me stay with him, purely to take care of him. He had some muscle atrophy from being stuck in the hospital bed for so long. Sierra had temporarily moved in too. I couldn't expect my parents to keep caring for her. I had reduced my hours at work so I could be at home with Finley as much as possible. When I wasn't at home with him he was either at my parents house or with his family. We all shared the responsibility of helping him get better. Finley was as grumpy as ever and getting fed up of the simplest task taking three times as long as it usually did. I was making us a salad for lunch and humming to myself, when I heard a loud crash come from the lounge. I ran to the sound and found Finley stood next to a table where he had knocked over a vase. He started trying to pick it up.

"Fin! No! I'll get a brush and sweep it up." I walked over and took the broken pieces of crystal clear glass from his hands.

"Sorry Claire." He mumbled. I shook my head.

"It's fine Fin. I'm here to help. Come on, let's get you to the table." I said gently placing a hand on his back. He still had to use crutches and he told me at least ten times a day how much he hated them. I slowly walked with him and even that seemed to anger him.

"I can do it Claire. I'm fine." He snapped. I nodded and headed back to the kitchen. I grabbed the dustpan and brush and walked carefully into the lounge. I swept up the tiny shimmering pieces of broken glass. I had to make sure they were all gone, otherwise Sierra could get hurt. I walked back to the kitchen. I sighed to myself and finished preparing lunch. I carried the plates into the dining room and placed them down on the table. I waited for Finley to seat himself and then we began eating. I had learned to eat a little slower so Finley didn't feel self conscious. I knew he hated feeling this way and I was trying to do everything I could to get him to feel normal again.

"How are you feeling today?" I asked lightheartedly. I was trying to keep his spirits up as much as possible. It was dreadful to see Finley in this state, but I was glad he was on the mend.

"I feel like I was almost kicked to death and then run over by a car." He said plainly. I grimaced slightly. I hated when he said things like this. It had become a regular occurrence, and it made me feel sick to the very pits of my stomach thinking about it.

"Well you definitely look better. Your walking is getting better too. Have you done your exercises today?" I asked. He slammed his fork down. I jumped slightly.

"No. I haven't done them ok? Is that what you wanted to hear?" He said angrily. I frowned down at my salad and carried on eating, slowly. I heard Finley start eating again and fell silent. He was making looking after him really hard. He had been acting like a toddler who didn't want to do what he was told. I had tried to be as gentle and encouraging as I could with him. I slowly put more salad in my mouth.

"Is it ok Fin?" I inquired. He hadn't been eating much which was a worry. He needed food to regain his muscles and help his body recover from the ordeal.

"Yes." He retorted. An awkward heavy silence descended between us. This happened regularly these days. The tension could be cut with a knife. I carried on eating as if nothing was wrong. I was trying to radiate positive energy around Finley in the hopes it would help him feel happier and more upbeat, despite what was going on. Finley was stabbing at something on his plate, and it kept falling off of his fork. Eventually he gave up. He threw his fork across the room and shoved his salad away from himself and towards me.

"Fin you need to eat. It'll help build your strength." I instructed him quietly.

"I'm not hungry." He replied.

"Finley, please," I pleaded.

"Why are you even still here?" He quizzed coldly. "Isn't now about the time you usually walk out on these situations? You know, when I'm at my worst and you don't want to deal with me." That was a low blow. His words were like daggers, piercing my heart. I tried to brush it off, but he carried on. "Or are you waiting for me to give you another gift you can throw back in my face?" That was my breaking point. That was the final straw that broke the camels back. I felt for Finley, and I wanted to be here for him. But I couldn't let him treat me however he wanted and excuse it because he was ill. I shoved the rest of my food down and grabbed his plate.

"You know Fin, you really can be an asshole sometimes." I said indignantly. I walked into the kitchen and began cleaning up. He came in and joined me a couple of minutes later.

"Yeah I know I can. Wanna know what made me this way? This one time I was struggling like hell with addiction and depression and the only person in my life I cared about, walked out on me and pretended I didn't exist. Then a few months later she came back slept with me and disappeared for eighteen months. That can really do a number on a person Claire." He shouted. I began angrily loading dishes into the dishwasher.

"Funnily enough Fin, there was only so many times I could see you passed out and then panic that you had died before my nerves were shot. I wasn't the one who shut you out. Don't forget that." I shouted back.

"Like I said, the girl who was supposed to love me had given up on me. What else did I have left?" He spat at me. This was spiralling but I couldn't handle him being like this with me any longer.

"Yes Fin! I did! Because my life fell apart. I lost my job. I lost my friends. My parents lived five minutes away and I never saw them because I was totally exhausted. You know because of all the, cleaning and cooking and washing and everything else I was doing whilst you were out getting wasted all the time!" I was practically throwing fruit and veg in the fridge, not paying attention to where they were landing.

"And you think I held it together in my life? You were my final lifeline. You were the only person I had left." He said angrily.

"Don't you dare. Do not put that responsibility on me. Do you know how much time I spent blaming myself for everything? You were the one who completely shut me out of your life! You stopped talking to me. I was basically a maid. You wouldn't even look at me!" I slammed the dishwasher shut.

"You used to blame me for everything! Don't you like a taste of your own medicine? You were constantly blaming me for my fans, my friends, my life. Haven't you ever wondered why I got so disillusioned with life? There's only so many times I can hear how much my life has ruined yours before I start hating it, and myself." He was glaring at me. I had never seen Fin this worked up and it broke my heart that he felt this way about me.

"No Fin. I didn't. What I blamed you for was not addressing it. All you did was tell me to ignore it. When you have hundreds of people a day telling you to kill yourself, and your only social life is with people who hate you, eventually you start feeling worthless. Besides I dealt with it in the end. I deactivated my social media remember? In fact, to this day it's deactivated."

"Well lucky you. Some of us don't have the luxury of turning it off. Like I said you get to walk away from this life. I don't. It's my livelihood. I have to deal with the hate and the paps and never having any time to myself." He was practically foaming at the mouth. I was shaking with anger.

"Fin for the past four years my life has revolved around you. I have done everything for you. Every decision I have made revolved around what was going on with you. I'm sorry for trying to make a decision for me. But oh look! Even that didn't work out, because yet again my life is on hold for you." I said. Finley smashed his fist against the counter. I jumped but stood my ground. I wasn't backing down this time. Finley was going to apologise. I was determined.

"Well I never asked you to do that. Nor did I ask you to come in and ruin everything I built!" He sounded vitriolic and I was seething. Every ounce of strength I had was going into not throwing something at Finley.

"Well thanks Fin. Thanks a bunch. Maybe you should spend some time seeing what the press was writing about me when you were in hospital. I saved some favourite headlines. Here. Have a look." I said throwing my phone towards him. Finley looked at the phone and flicked through the headlines. Some of them were disturbing to say the least.He shrugged.

"It's not like I wrote them." I couldn't believe he was saying this. My top was about to blow. I wiped the sides down furiously. Why was I even still cleaning up? This wasn't my home, Finley wasn't my boyfriend and I was exhausted.

"I've had enough of this. I should realise by now whenever I try to be a friend all you do is take advantage of it." My tone was cold and calculating. I wanted that to hurt him. Just like he was hurting me.