i tear my heart open
She'd forgotten how long after her hysterectomy it started, the shooting pain through her abdomen. The tense pain that made her curl up and remember what she'd lost, the only thing that made her feel female, her only chance to carry a baby of her own.
It comes every now and then, the pain. she remembers sitting on the steps at the university, Robert telling her he was going to phone an ambulance. She remembers telling him that its pointless, they won't find anything. There's nothing there.
"In the crash, in the," she pauses, "in the train crash. there was this big thing, this metal spike and it went in there and it came out here."
She swallows hard. She never expected to talk about it, losing her womb and how worthless it made her feel afterwards. It was just something she lived with because it happened, she'd been given a second chance of life and she was grateful.
"And it tore through my womb and um—" she feels her emotions escape and she tells herself she won't cry. She won't cry because she's done her grieving, she's spent the last six years grieving for the womb and the baby she lost that day.
She flees in tears, afraid of what Robert would think about her. Men usually did run away when they discovered she couldn't have children. That's why she was so scared of letting people inside incase they discovered the truth — how damaged she was inside.
"Alison wait!" She doesn't expect him to go after her but he does.
He follows because he doesn't like seeing her so — fragile. He gently grabs her wrist and pulls her towards him. They stare at one another, neither of them know what to say. Alison wants to pull away, push him away because he's a tosser but there's something about him that draws her to him like a fly to a web.
With tears still streaming down her face, he pulls her close, kisses the top of her head and whispers; "it's going to be okay."
/
He takes her back to his, the boathouse. She sits cross-legged on his bed, dry mascara and eye shadow gathering underneath her eyes. That's the worst thing about crying, undoing all your hard work to co-ordinate your makeup to your outfit.
"Are you hungry?"
She shakes her head, "No, can I just have a glass of water please?"
He nods and takes a glass from the cupboard. Running the cold tap, he rinses out the glass before filing it to the top with water. Turning off the tap, he gently walks towards Alison and hands her the glass.
"Thank you," she whispers before she takes a sip of water. Robert sits down on the edge of the bed and wonders what to do. He doesn't even know what to say about the whole thing — what can you say about losing your womb, something that makes you feminine.
"Do you want to talk?"
"Not really," she isn't up for talking but truth be told, she doesn't know how to fill the silence. She'd rather sit there, with him, with her thoughts for company. She takes another sip of water before leaning over and placing the glass on the cabinet beside the bed.
For a second their eyes are glued to one another's before Alison leans in for a kiss. She pulls away almost as soon as their lips touch, apologising knowing they've — she's — crossed the line.
"Alison," she apologises over and over, not knowing what came over her to kiss him. She begins to walk away but a hand on her wrist stops her. She stops in her tracks and slowly turns around, her eyes falling upon Robert.
He pulls Alison towards him and gently kisses her softly.
They pause wondering if they really want to cross that line (once it was crossed, you could never go back) She kisses him back and pushes him onto the bed. Straddling him, she begins to unbutton the buttons on his shirt but as soon as he tries to remove her top, she freezes.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing," she swallows hard before she looks him in the eye and answers, "my scars."
"Show me," she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Inside she feels sick, butterflies fluttering around her stomach. She pulls off her top exposing the scars on her left arm and her stomach.
She was scared of his reaction, he was the first man she had undressed in front of in six years. The last man was her husband who, on the very same day, left her for a younger, prettier, scar-free model.
"Come here," he gestures her to come to him and slowly, she steps towards him. He pulls her back onto the bed and after kissing her softly, he runs his fingers along the scars on her stomach. With a smile he tells her,
"You're beautiful!"
/
She'd fallen asleep not long afterwards, her head on his chest sleeping peacefully.
He stayed awake, watching her sleep. He smiled as he stroked her cheek lightly, the movement causing her to stir slightly. He doesn't know how long he was lay there watching her sleep but before long it was morning.
Kissing her forehead he tried to get out of bed without waking her up but failed. Alison rolled over on her side and blocked him from leaving the bed. Eventually Robert was able to free himself but as he wrapped the dressing gown around him, Alison spoke;
"Leaving me already?"
He laughed and walked towards the kitchen, "Do you want breakfast?"
"No thank you, can I just have a coffee please?" She sat up, wrapping the duvet around her to keep her warm. When he returned handing the coffee to her, Alison wondered if this was it. How did they move forward from this, they could no longer go back to been author and subject.
"Robert?"
"Yes?"
"What do we do from here?"
"What do you mean?"
She took a sip from her coffee and held it in her hands. With a small smile, she answered back to his question; "Well, we — you can't finish the book because we've crossed the boundary between author and subject. Not to mention—"
She paused, "I don't know if you've noticed but I—I like you, a lot."
He started to laugh and Alison didn't know why. Putting down her coffee, she hit him around the head with a pillow. Gently he grabbed both of her wrists and held her down on the bed so she couldn't move herself from his grip.
As they stared at each other, lips only a couple of inches apart Robert said; "I don't know if you've noticed but I love you." And before she could even reply, he pressed his lips to hers. As they broke apart, Alison looked up at him and smiled.
"I think — I think I love you too."
jottings — if you like it enough to favourite, please leave a review:3