Chapter 45

He broke a few hours after we got home. Leading up to that, I could tell it was coming. I was quiet around him, just waiting. It didn't make me feel any better when I looked at him; he was too calm and it was only a matter of time. I was cautious and did what I could not to set him off. I even cooked dinner for us. I wasn't sure if the fact that Clare was still not home helped him. She might have set him off or could maybe help him cool down if she was here. Looking into his glazed-over eyes, I wasn't even sure if he cared. He was too lost in his thoughts.

"Luke?" I asked gently after I shut the stove off and turned to him, where he was sitting at the table. He glanced up to me with a blank expression, raising his eyebrows in curiosity. He looked fine, controlled. But I knew not to believe it. The energy was there as was the reason for it. It was only a matter of time. "Um, dinner is ready."

He nodded and stood up without saying anything. He wouldn't look to me often; maybe because he didn't need the evidence of my harassment reminding him of what happened to me. Maybe because he didn't know how to interact with me properly right now. Maybe just because he was lost in his thoughts. Hell, maybe all of those things did it.

Getting his plate, he made his taco as I did the same. The silence that existed between us was very unsettling once we sat down at the table and started eating. For me it was anyway; who the hell knew what he was thinking or if he noticed. I didn't want to push him at all; I didn't want him to break even though I knew it would happen at some point. I wanted the opposite, to distract him or make him feel better. I wasn't sure but talking with him could result in either. My intentions were to distract though.

"I wonder where Clare is. She should be home by now." I internally kicked myself. I should know that bringing her up wouldn't help. In general, anything to do with her wouldn't help.

He kept his eyes down, away from mine and on the table. I saw him pause though and purse his lips. He didn't say anything though and went on eating. While we did so, I tried thinking of something else to say. Sighing, I decided to ask him a general question by the time we were nearly done eating. I didn't realize how stupid I was for not thinking it through before I asked. It was so stupid, it was Clare-worthy.

"How was your day today?"

He looked up at that, meeting my eyes and I felt the hairs on my arms stand up. His gaze not breaking, I stuttered to clarify what I meant. "I-I meant how was work today?" I said quickly after, this time looking away from him. But it didn't matter. He only heard my first question and it set him off

"How was my day?" He asked and I watched as a menacing smile spread across his face. "How was my day? Compared to your's, it was pretty fucking good!"

"Luke," I groaned. "You kn--"

"Compared to yours, it was fantastic! Of course, that was until I pick you up from school and see you were fucking abused beyond what I believed could happen to you in such a short amount of time. I am so fucking pissed! Pissed at the school, at myself for letting you go, and pissed at you for not being as worked up about it as I am!" He was yelling by now and I could only sit there, taking in his words. Taking a deep breath, he stood up and took his empty plate towards the sink as he continued. Looking at him, I saw he started to shake slightly again. "What the fuck is wrong with people?! Hell, what the fuck is wrong with me! I let you walk into that hell! I did this to you. And why? Because I want to give you a good future. I want you to be free. I want you to have a life but I guess that's just to much to fucking ask for!" He was getting louder, his eyes becoming more lost in his fury. He turned away from me, towards the sink, and he kicked in the bottom cupboard in a swift movement, making me slightly jump. Starting at him from where I was sitting, I watched as he shook harder and smashed whatever he could in his reach - cups, plates, a vase, the radio on the counter. He threw it all to the floor and smashed it, the noise making me shudder with how much louder it was getting. When I saw him pick up a chair and throw it against the wall, I stood up and started to leave the kitchen, heading up towards the stairs. I didn't judge him, I understood. He just needed his space right now and to let his anger out.

Once I got to my room and got upstairs, I could still hear loud crashes and him cussing multiple times. I sat on my bed, just listening and really not sure what to think. I mean, I understood and stuff. It was just strange knowing that Luke was doing this. I wasn't really surprised but rather just looking at him differently. I knew he got angry and fast when people insulted me or harassed me. Hell, it was clear when he started beating on Patrick. Yet, it seemed like something completely different because he wasn't facing the people that did this to me. He was simply letting his anger out. It seemed immature, somewhat pointless. Luke understood it wasn't the best way to let anger out. But like I discovered before, he didn't want to be perfect. He didn't want to be good all the time. He and I were both satisfied bringing destruction into our lives to a certain extent and what could accomplish that more than taking it out on your home?

It didn't last too long. However, the yelling started again when I heard the front door open. I cringed because I knew what was coming. Clare started yelling at him instantly from seeing the amount of destruction. And though I hate her fucking guts, I understood where she was coming from. You walk through your door only to find that your husband completely trashed the place and not understanding why. It was understandable from her position. That was why it was surprising to hear him yelling back at her. They weren't loud enough for me to hear what they were saying but I mean it's common sense that they were fighting about the trashed kitchen.

Somewhere between their fighting and my listening, I fell asleep. And when I woke, it was quiet. Opening my eyes, I could only assume it was morning. Rolling over from where I was laying in my bed, I looked over at my clock and it read 11:09. Sighing, not sure what woke me or why, I turned back over, facing the wall to try to fall back asleep. But that's the thing: I couldn't. I laid there for maybe a half hour, trying to fall back asleep and all it resulted in was me being even more awake. I wasn't sure why. I mean, sure I was anxious for school tomorrow - that is if he would let me go. I was worried about him, yes. Was I curious about the house and if it was still trashed? Sure. Was I worried because I saw Luke wasn't in my room, sleeping on my floor like he has been for protection and security since Mark broke in? Hell yeah.

Okay, I guess that's enough of an answer as to why I couldn't fall back asleep.

Groaning, I threw my covers off me and climbed out of bed. Quietly, I opened my bedroom door and started for the stairs. Halfway down though, I stopped when I heard that the TV was on. Fuzzy voices and nothing else. I continued down the stairs slowly though and when I got the bottom, I saw Luke was down here, sitting on the couch and looking at the TV that was illuminating light around the room. Slowly, I walked towards him, all the while, looking at his still figure on the couch. I was really worried about him and when I came into sight, I saw him look away from the screen and his eyes reached mine. He didn't look that happy to see me; more like annoyed or even guilty. I stood there, unsure of what to do when his eyes reached mine. They seemed to have shocked me and I felt my body shift in temperature as well as the amount of tension within me.

He looked calm now, in control. With the expression on his face, it showed he was even a little ashamed. He sat up, slumped back into the couch and letting it support him. His eyes droopy, they were still large and on mine. His face was sad but intense at the same time. Luke's face even showed signs of just how tired he was but he didn't seem to take notice of that at all.

My eyes finally broke away from his and I looked around the dark room. I didn't see anything really destroyed or trashed. I'm sure the kitchen was a completely different story. My eyes then landed on the coffee table and I raised my eyebrow at what I saw. Four open beer cans sat there along with a fifth that was closer to him, which I assumed he was currently drinking from. I never saw him drink but I wasn't too shocked. I mean, I knew there was beer in the house. It was more shocking that he already had four, was on his fitth, and was working in the morning.

The voices from the TV drew my attention and it was hard to accept what I was seeing on the screen. It was a home video. Of Luke and Clare. At their wedding.

The camera showed them standing in a church, at the alter. And I never saw such a look on Clare's face before. She looked like an angel, wearing white that flowed gracefully down her body. Her hair was up in diamond pins, her brown curls cascading down around her her face perfectly... I mean, I honestly didn't want to believe it was her. She looked so... beautiful, so kind, nice, and so incredibly happy. It was shocking. Her hands rested in his as they faced each other. Luke just as happy supported a nice black suit, his hair combed nicely back and his smile so bright as he stared back into her eyes.

"Albany," he said, getting my attention back. Looking into his eyes now, droopy and sad, it was as if the man on screen and the one here sipping away at his beer were completely different people. "What are you doing up?"

"I...." I felt my eyes slowly crawl back towards the TV and felt my breath increase as I watched them. Luke spoke to her, love filling his voice. They were saying their vows to each other while the person with the camera showed the rest of the church witnessing this event. But all I could focus on was the two of them. So beautiful together and so in love. It burned me to watch. "This is your wedding video," I said in a daze, breathing a little harder. I didn't want to watch this for the fact that I loved the man in it. I couldn't look away because I couldn't recognize Clare. I didn't see her. All I saw was a beautiful and kind woman in love.

"Um, yeah," he said quietly in a strange voice. I looked back over to him and walked towards the couch, sitting down next to him. He looked more uncomfortable, looking between me and the video. His lips parted and his breath increased, his eyes finding mine. Not to mention, his expression looked a little annoyed. He didn't want me here for some reason and it was making him come across as even more guilty it seemed.

"Do you feel any better?" I asked quietly, my eyes returning to the screen because I couldn't stop watching. It was just so crazy, the fact that she use to be like that around Luke. I knew she was a good actor but I mean, damn she looked like a completely different person. If only she were like that when she raised me. I understood better now why Luke couldn't believe me. I mean, I always understood. But to see them at their wedding, how in love they were before, how different she acted around him... I didn't blame him. I couldn't because she was just so good at hiding it all. And therefore, he wouldn't give up. It was hard to believe this was just over a month before I showed up home again.

"Yeah," he said next to me. "Look, I'm sorry I reacted like that." I turned my head to look at him and saw his eyes were trained on me. His eyebrows dipped in sorrow, they shot sparks through me and I noticed once again how little space there was between his body and mine. I really need to stop thinking about that. Because if anything, this video only justified how impossible it was to have those kinds of thought between us. It was dumb, immature, and unrealistic. "I was just so... pissed off and upset. I had no other way to handle it to where all my anger would be out."

I nodded up at him. "I understand," I said into his bloodshot eyes.

"I'm going to be sick," he said, somewhat out of nowhere.

I raised my eyebrows. "What?" I eyed the drinks again and my eyes widened when I saw him sit forward, grab the beer can, and take another swig. When he put the can back down, I smacked his arm. Was he retarder? "If your going to be sick, then what the hell are you still doing drinking?"

He chuckled as he sat back into the couch. Looking down to me, he gave me a smirk. "That's the point. I'm a sick dude, why not get the full effect?"

He's a sick dude? What the hell is that suppose to mean? Though he held a smirk, there was true pain behind it. I watched as he looked back at the TV, his smirk fading. Following his eyes, I looked back to the screen and watched as Luke slide the diamond ring onto Clare's finger. Continuing with those painful words that bound them together, the camera panned up to their smiling faces. I felt myself just start shaking my head.

"I just can't believe it," I said in a shallow voice.

"Believe what?"

"Clare. She just seems... so different. I've never saw her like that before."

"It's been a while since I've seen her like that too," he said, sighing. Still watching, I saw Clare then take his ring and slide it on his finger. Though the whole scene made my stomach twist, it was more shocking to watch and see Clare. I couldn't understand or want to accept it but she really looked as if she loved him. I think she just might have. "So much has gone wrong. I just want things to be like they were before. I'm sick of the pain, the drama, the guilt. So much fucking guilt," he murmured. Looking up at him, his eyes became lost, far away and deep in his thoughts.

"Guilt over what?" I asked.

He glanced back to me and smiled. But it wasn't that of happiness or anything like it. It was sad and sorry. "Over you, my dear."

Clearly out of it, I felt it was wrong to ask. But I pushed for more as he just continued to watch me from where I sat next to him. "Me?"

He nodded but his smile was gone. It was strange because he appeared and acted out of touch. Yet, he was still understanding and full of sense at the same time. "But that's not important - to you anyway. So, you never answered my question. Why are you up?"

"I just woke up and was curious what happened with you. You weren't upstairs and sleeping, after all."

He nodded, taking a deep breath. "Nope. Just down here. I need to clean up the kitchen before I go to bed."

I laughed lightly. "Yet your watching home videos?"

"Why not?" he asked, eyes meeting mine and showed amusement but through it was raw energy and pain that he was unknowingly showing. Pain that he usually kept in. "I'm more desperate than ever for things to back to the way they were between Clare and I. I want to know where things went wrong."

I scoffed. "I have your answer." I said quietly, knowing I should probably keep my mouth shut but not being able to. "Things started going wrong after I got home. She has two different lives: one that comes out around me and one that comes out around you. Well, those two different sides of her started to clash and it's only a matter of time before she makes a mistake and shows the wrong side to you."

He pursed his lips, his eyes focused ahead and on the screen. He closed his eyes for a long second, not wanting to deal with this. He just wanted to be sure about Clare and I know he couldn't be anymore.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," he said as he took another swig of his beer. Once he set it back down, he shifted his body and faced me more, his eyes meeting mine and they glowed brightly with the reflection from the TV.

"What?" I asked.

"How was it proved that you were insane?"

It was a strange question, and at a strange time where the topic hadn't even come up. Searching his eyes, I wasn't sure what it was that told him to ask. Maybe just simple curiosity. Yet, I felt there was more to it than that. Whatever it be, I didn't see any reason not to tell him.

"Well, Clare use to take me to the doctors often, saying there were things wrong with me. That I would twitch and have these episodes sometimes that involved me talking to people that weren't there. She told them that I was crazy but they needed proof. So of course, that is what Clare gave them. Every time we went to the doctors, I got excited because before we would go in, Clare would tell me that if I acted crazy in front of the doctors, we could then go to the store and get whatever I wanted. I didn't understand why she wanted me to act that way. At that age, I didn't care. I was so young at the time and had barely any toys or fun so I was excited to do whatever it would take to get a new toy. It started with her telling me what to do. Most of the time, she would give me instructions to start talking to people that didn't exist before we met with the doctors. So when we did, I would start the act. I would start talking to people that weren't there, all the while knowing I had a treat coming my way. Other times, it was just screaming and kicking that started out of nowhere. Sometimes I would act as if I didn't know who I was. I would start to pull my hair and even bite my skin if that's what she wanted and told me to do ahead of time. It hurt but I mean, I didn't care as long as I got some form of freedom through a new toy. Later on, she would simply tell me to tell the truth. Confused, I did and the doctors saw me as an even bigger nutcase because it was so unreal. I started telling them the truth: that my mommy use to tell me to act crazy in front of them. That she was beating me when it didn't appear that way at all. In public, Clare was such a sweetheart to me. But it was only to benefit; it was an act. And it paid off. It had been prooved that I was insane. And technically, it's all my fault. I acted crazy like she told me to. This life was the result. I wish I could take back all the toys she use to bribe me with if it meant a life different from this."

When I finished, there was a look on his face that surprised me: irritation was among the many. Of course, he didn't like what I told him. There was more than that though. He groaned, shaking his head as he took another swig of his beer before sitting back again.

"You answered that without any hesitation."

I was confused even more but I didn't push for an explanation for what that meant. His eyes told me he was far away in thought and sadness. Facing away from me more, I saw his eyes close when they reached the screen and he looked terrible, as if he actually was sick.

"Are you okay?" I asked, brushing his arm with my hand and I felt him shake under my touch. At the contact, he jerked away slightly and his eyes opened, refusing to meet mine.

"No," he whispered, eyes locked on the ground. "I'm not. I don't know what to do anymore."

"About what?" I asked, leaning more towards him to get a better look at his distraught expression. His breath increased and his eyes wouldn't meet mine still, somewhat lost. At the same time as he answered, it was as if he was only half present, half conscious with what he was saying. And because of that, I didn't know how I should value the words he said.