“Fucking hell, Jem!” I half-shout. “Eight? Is that how old you were the first time she left you alone?”
And he’s gone, staring at the table and mouth turned down by the memories he buries deep.
I push my chair back and cross to sit on his lap. Jem blinks in surprise and I pull his head against my chest, desperate to take away some of the pain surfacing. Somebody should’ve held him back then, told him this wasn’t his fault—and loved him.
No wonder Jem’s so fucked up. He’s spent years convincing himself he’s unlovable. Shit, I went through those childlike rationalisations when my mum left, but my brother was there. Quinn held me through the tears, filling the emptiness with his love, and the gentle explanations that her behaviour wasn’t my fault.
Jem had nobody.
Any words I have right now would never express the intense anger and despair adequately. If only I could go back to the young Jem and tell him nothing is his fault. Jem wraps his arms around my waist and crushes me, resting his cheek against my side. I hold him, rubbing his back.
“If my own mother didn’t think I was worth caring about, who else would?” he says. “I lived with that thought until one day everybody wanted me. The whole fucking world loved me, but I was still empty. The past hung over me so I kept people at a distance by behaving like a selfish dickhead. It worked.”
“You let me in,” I whisper, the awareness what a massive thing is was for him hitting me fully for the first time.
“Mostly,” he says. “Even though you have my heart, there’s still a part locked away that I can’t give you, Ruby.”
“I know.” I brush my lips against his forehead. “You have all of mine though.”
Jem releases my waist. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll trash your heart—it’s inevitable.”
“No, it’s not inevitable. Nothing in life is. I believe we’re more. You know we are.”
Jem sighs and looks up at me, face pale. I brush his curls from his eyes, willing him to see the truth. “I can never replace the love you lost as a kid, Jem, but I can love you now.”
My heart thumps into my ears, at the fact I told him the one thing I swore not to. Jem’s face remains inscrutable and our new world drifts away with each second of silence.
“Don’t. I can’t say the words you want to hear.”
Tears prick at my eyes at Jem’s admission and I climb from his knee. Jem watches me warily as I return to my seat and pick up a slice of melon. The reason my tears don’t fall is because Jem didn’t deny he loves me; he just has the truth locked away. How much time before I can unlock this? Will I ever be able to?
“Sorry,” he says quietly, “you do know how important you are though? How much you mean to me?”
“I just dredged painful memories into your mind; a world where love didn’t have a place. Don’t worry.”
Subject closed, we finish eating. I can switch off too; I have as much practice. I’m not spoiling my peace and happiness with Jem, or the calmness that surrounds us, by obsessing on unspoken words.
We have a long path ahead. Time will tell if we can navigate this together or are pulled away by the control of the past.