Hunt The Haunted.
The flight home from Michigan is long and we get delayed at the airport for a good four hours before we can finally get on our plane and come home. On top of that, it takes a long time to actually leave the airport and navigate our way through the busy traffic.
It's late Friday evening by the time Oliver and I actually get back to our flat in New York. He fell asleep on the journey home, so I tuck him into bed before making myself a cup of coffee.
As I wait for the kettle to boil, I dig out my phone charger and plug it in to the wall, waiting for it to start up.
I'm pouring the hot water into my cup when the first buzz sounds. Then the second, then the third. It just doesn't stop.
I wince, putting the kettle down and only approaching my phone once the buzzing stops, which takes a good minute or two.
I have a couple of texts from each of the girls just sending me encouraging messages and wondering if I know when I'm coming back.
One from Maddie also tells me that Ivan was asking about me repeatedly, so I probably should call him before he 'explodes like the volcano he's threatening to be'.
I can't help but laught at the image.
I also have 34 missed calls and 63 texts from a certain somebody else. Deciding not to even start on his mountain of messages, I send quick replies to each of the girls, letting them know I got home safely and everything is fine.
After taking a deep breath, I bypass all of the texts I got from Ivan and just call him. Knowing him, he'll just repeat everything he texted me anyways.
'Poppy?' he answers on the second ring.
'Hi,' I say quickly. 'I can explain-'
'Oh, really?' he cuts across me harshly and I can just imagine him pacing around his room. 'Can you really explain the whole week's absence without any warning? Can you explain why I repeatedly called and texted you only to get no answer? Can you explain why I visited your house multiple times only to find it empty and it was only once Maddie finally gave me the vague answer that you were away indefinitely and promised to ask you once you returned to finally contact me that I dropped the idea of camping outside of your houes until you returned? Can you really?'
I sigh, closing my eyes for a moment. 'I can explain all of that, Ivan, but I think it's best if you come around here. There's a lot we have to discuss.'
Dread fills my gut at the thought, but I shake it away. I have to do this. I have to tell him.
'There better be a damn good explanation for this, Poppy,' he mutters darkly. 'I'll be there in five minutes.'
He hangs up before I can ask him how he's going to manage to get to my apartment in just five minutes.
He keeps to his word, though, because there's a hammering on my door not even five minutes later.
I nervously open the door and I'm surprised to be crushed against a distinctly human shaped wall. It takes me a moment to realise it's just Ivan's chest.
He inhales deeply, burying his head into my hair. 'Poppy,' he croacks, nuzzling me gently. 'Where the hell have you been?'
I sigh against his shoulder, my arms wrapped around his mid section tightly. 'I think it's best if you come in. Just... Just don't shout at me, okay?'
He sighs too, stepping away and shutting the door behind him. 'Come on,' he murmurs, leading me into the kitchen.
'Would you like coffee?' I ask conversationally, already irritated with myself for delaying this conversation more than I already have.
He tenses slightly, but nods all the same. 'Okay,' he agrees.
I quickly make him a cup of coffee, before walking through into the living room with him on my heels. 'You can sit down,' I murmur, sitting down on the couch.
He sits next to me, his cup of coffee in one hand and his other arm wrapped tightly around my waist. 'On you go then,' he says, his eyes still stormy. 'Let's hear this story.'
'My granny had a heart attack,' I respond bluntly. 'We flew to Michigan to see her and spend the week with her. I forgot my phone charger and by the time we were there and I remembered to tell anyone, my phone was dead. However, Mom has Maddie's number on her phone in case of emergencies to I sent her a text through that. I'm sorry that I didn't have any way of contacting you, but I presumed Maddie would have told you.'
'Is she okay?' Concern immediately replaces the frustration previously on his face.
I nod, smiling lightly and resting my head against his shoulder for comfort. 'Yeah, she's fine, it was just a scare, that's all. Don't worry about it.'
He smiles lightly, running his hand through my hair. 'I'm glad about that,' he murmurs softly. 'But I sense that there's something else you want to tell me.'
I take a deep breath, staring down at my shoes. 'Yeah,' I mutter quietly. 'There is.'
Ivan lifts my chin, staring into my eyes. 'Are you all right?'
I brace myself, wincing at the thought of his reaction. 'You're going to get mad- Yes, you are,' I nod, interrupting his protest. 'And so I just want you to promise me that you will hear everything I have to say before you get seriously furious, all right?'
A frown knots his eyebrows and his eyes cloud slightly. 'Poppy, what's happened?' he asks, his voice low.
I grab his hand, looking at him imploringly. 'Please just promise me. Let me finish my story before you say anything or jump to the wrong conclusions. Please.'
Ivan swallows, but nods all the same. 'Okay,' he responds evenly, but I can tell he's worried.
'I.... I may have not been completely honest,' I admit quietly.
He tenses, but, true to his word, he doesn't interrupt me.
'There's something I've neglected to tell you throughout our... relationship,' I gesture between the two of us. 'But you have to take into account that you live a fairly exposed life and that you can often have the press following you around, or whatever.'
His frown only deepens. 'Keep going,' he encourages me.
'I had people to protect and I wanted to know that I could trust you before I told you all of my secrets,' I murmur. 'I understand that it might not have been the best way to go about it, but I was scared. I was just trying to do what was best for everyone.'
An impatient look flickers across Ivan's face, yet he keeps his mouth tightly shut.
'However, when I was away, I realised that it was time to tell you what was going on and come clean about a certain aspect of my life.'
There's a pause, and Ivan suddenly blurts out before he can stop himself, 'You're not still a stripper, are you?'
Hurt flashes through my gut, but I mask it before he can realise what he said. Maybe what I'm about to say is worse than that.
'No,' I say calmly. 'I'm not a stripper. In fact, I haven't been engaged in any sexual activity with anyone other than you.'
He seems to calm down a little bit, but at the same time my statement seems to confuse him, as though he can't imagine what on earth I could say other than me being unfaithful, although we're not technically in a relationship.
'You also have to remember that we weren't officially in a relationship,' I add quickly.
He looks frustrated again and runs a hand through his hair but doesn't comment.
'I...' I bite my lip and wince, bringing my legs up to my knees and wrapping my arms around them, glad I put my cup of coffee on the floor. I've got absolutely no idea how to word this.
'Poppy, just spit it out,' Ivan finally breaks his silence, annoyance flickering across his features. 'It can't be that bad.'
I take a deep breath, readying myself. 'You remember Oliver.'
'The boy you babysit?' he frowns. 'What does he have to do with anything?'
'He's next door.'
Ivan looks at me expectantly.
'In his bedroom.'
He still looks at me, completely non-plussed. 'Okay?'
'He's my son,' I eventually blurt out before I can stop myself and word it a lot better than that.
The silence is deafening.
Ivan opens his mouth but nothing comes out. After multiple attempts, he finally manages, 'I don't understand.'
I swallow. 'What do you mean, you don't understand?'
He looks at me directly in the eyes and I can see the rage beginning to swirl in there. 'Oliver is your son. You and I have been doing this for a couple of months, now. Yet it's only today that you finally bother to tell me that oh so minor detail?'
'Yes,' I whisper.
'And why didn't you think it was important that I know you had a son?' his voice is rising in volume.
'I was scared-'
'You were scared,' he retorts scathingly. 'You dated me for two months - don't even say that we weren't because we were everything except the label, Poppy - but you were scared that if you told me about your son, I'd what?'
I close my eyes, rubbing them roughly. 'You have to try to understand this from my point of view, Ivan. Obviously, Oliver has a father and that didn't work out. He's not in our lives anymore. I didn't want to introduce Oliver to another male figure only for that to not work out.'
He clenches his fists. 'And you need to understand this from my point of view,' he retorts through gritted teeth. 'Surely you realise I had a right to know that you had a son if we were getting involved.'
'I wanted to know I could trust you,' I swallow uncomfortably. 'The last relationship I was in didn't exactly leave me full of trust for men and I had to know that you wouldn't abuse any of the trust I gave you.'
'Which was nothing at all,' he points out bitterly, his fury clearly evident on his face.
'That's not true,' I protest.
'You told me you were babysitting him,' he snaps.
I shake my head quickly. 'That's not true, actually. I deliberately never told you that I was babysitting, I just let you assume.'
'That's the same thing, Poppy,' he finally bellows, standing up. 'It's exactly the same! You had plenty of opportunities to tell me that you have a son and you didn't!'
'This is why I didn't tell you!' I cry desperately, standing up too, despite not being anywhere near his height. 'Because I knew you'd react like this! Nobody wants a woman who has a six year old son, it's too much baggage!'
He laughs scathingly, starting to pace back and forth. 'Now you're just making me feel like you don't know me at all, Poppy,' his icy eyes burn mine. 'Surely you'd have thought that if you'd just told me in the beginning, then I would have accepted him like he was my own?'
My breath hitches in my throat. 'Sorry?'
He glares at me furiously. 'You seriously think that lowly of me that I'd turn down a woman I was interested in simply because she had a son? Poppy, I don't care that you've got a son, I don't care that things have gone wrong in your life before now. I would have accepted all of you.'
'Then what's the problem?' I cry in frustration, running a hand through my long hair and beginning to pace too.
'Oh, I don't know, Poppy,' he snaps sarcastically. 'It can't possibly be that you deliberately didn't tell me about him!'
There's a silence.
'If you'd just told me at the beginning,' his voice drops softly. 'If you'd just said to me at the start...' he closes his eyes, pain visible in his features. 'It wouldn't have been a problem, Poppy. It would have been like he was mine.'
'I'm sorry,' my voice cracks. 'I'm so sorry, Ivan. I just didn't know how to handle it and I know this throws a total spanner in the works...' I trail off.
He tenses and spins on his heel so he's facing me. 'A total spanner in the works,' he agrees. 'How am I supposed to trust you now?'
Panic grips my insides. 'That's the only thing I've been keeping from you, Ivan, I promise.'
He looks at me wearily. 'It's not the same, Poppy.'
I wince, the pain cutting me right to the core. 'What do I have to do, Ivan? What do I have to do to prove myself to you? How can I get you to trust me again?'
His silence says it all.
Pain cripples me when he finally opens his mouth and says it. 'You can't,' he returns simply. 'I'm sorry, I really am, but there's no way back, Poppy. I can't be with a woman that I can't trust.'
I think I stop breathing altogether. 'What?' I finally choke out.
'This can't work,' he reiterates. 'I'm sorry.'
I stare at him for the longest time and as I take a step forward and reach out to just touch him, he steps back ever so slightly.
It's then that I know it's over.
I drop my hand back to my side roughly. 'I understand,' I utter painfully. 'I understand.'
He looks at me, at a loss for what to say.
'For the record,' I murmur. 'This was great. Really. And I have no doubts that soon enough you'll find the woman who's not going to do that to you, who's going to treat you properly right from the start.'
'Poppy,' he croaks. 'There is a man, there is. You just have to tell him. If you get that involved with a man, you have to tell him sooner.'
'How sooner?' I rasp. 'Where was the cutt-off point?'
He looks at me pensively for a moment and I can't help but feel surprised that he's actually going to answer my question. 'Second or third date,' he decides. 'Maybe not straight in there, but it does need to come up fairly soon.'
I nod, looking down at the floor. 'Okay.'
There's a long, awkward pause where neither of us say anything.
We both know the other doesn't really want to leave, but we also both know it has to happen. We can't work, not after everything I kept from him.
Eventually, I exhale heavily and look at him, desperately trying to meet his eyes, but he determinedly keeps his trained on my shoulder. 'Shall I show you out?' I ask in a small voice.
He nods almost robotically and hands me a half full cup of coffee. 'It was good,' he mutters.
I take it in my hands, smiling sadly at the coldness.
We walk silently to the door, but neither of us open it.
After a long agonising moment, Ivan shuffles further towards me.
I don't move.
Eventually, he's standing right in front of me, his fierce eyes finally looking right into mine. I can't help but wince at the pain - I did that.
His hand gently removes a strand of hair from my forehead. 'I'm sorry, Poppy,' he says softly. 'I'm sorry it didn't work out.'
'Me too,' I murmur, closing my eyes and savouring his touch. 'Me too.'
'You'll do well,' he continues when I open my eyes once more. 'And you'll find a man.'
I smile softly. 'The same to you.'
Ivan leans forward and I tense, surrounded by his cologne all over. He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead and my breath hitches.
He looks into my eyes, as though asking for permission, for he then moves forwards, placing his hands on my hips and pulling me to his chest.
He rests his chin on the top of my head and I inhale.
This could be the last time.
His arms are wound around my waist tightly and I revel in it, knowing I'm lucky he's doing this. Maybe I'm lucky he can't let go. At least I get one more taste.
After a long time, he pulls away slightly, only to lower his lips to mine.
I think it was supposed to be a chaste kiss, but neither of us seem to be able to manage that.
I grip his shirt tightly, desperately clinging onto him.
His lips work furiously against mine and he pulls me tight to him.
It's a long time before we pull away, but even when we need a breath, we dive back for more.
It's only the third or fourth time - I've lost count due to his toe curling kisses - that he finally seems to come to his senses and stops.
He steps back quickly like I've burned him and the pain only festers in my chest more.
'I'll miss you,' he utters softly.
'Then don't go,' I whisper desperately. 'Stay.'
He shakes his head, smiling sadly. 'It doesn't work like that, Poppy.'
I nod. 'I know,' I sigh. 'I know.'
The painful silence lingers for a moment longer before he finally reaches for the door and, with one last sad smile, walks out of the door.
Out of my life.
It's only once I've crumpled to the floor and burst into body wracking sobs that the realisation hits me right across the face.
He didn't call me darling once.