Chapter 10

Take me with you

I promise I'll never let go.

Niall's POV

I don't know why I told her to come with me. I really wanted her to just keep the secret between us but the moment she asked for the reason I was crying, I knew I wanted to spend time with her. I wanted her to be with me.

I half expected her to decline my offer and just make me tell her, but she surprised both of us by grabbing my hand. I don't know where I'm going to take her to. I don't really have anything to show her and right now I'm just driving round in circles, praying she doesn't notice.

She's sitting too close to the doors of the car. Her forehead pressed on the window and her eyes closed. One of her hands are between her legs while the other supports her face. Her sweat shirt doesn't cover her whole arm so I can see the goosebumps resting on her hands. I immediately turn the heat all the way up and place my eyes back on the road.

Now where do I take her to? I've barely been to Seattle for up to a year and I really don't know any places here. I mentally slap myself again for asking her to come with me.

After driving around for over 20 minutes, I find myself pulling into the driveway of my house. What other place to tell her about myself than my house?

I turn off the car and turn to look at her. She's still asleep and her legs have now been brought up to her chest.

I take off her seat belt and gently tap her so she doesn't get upset. It takes a while before she finally stirs and looks up at me, confusion clouds her face before she remembers where she is and she settles back on her seat.

"Where are we?" Her voice sounds groggy from sleep.

I get down from the car and make my way to her own side of the door. I open the door and stretch out my hand for her to take.

"We're at my house, let's go." She looks skeptical for a while before she accepts my hand and gets off the car; letting me take her inside the house.

Claire's POV

His house is much more modern than mine and is definitely too big for him to live in alone. The front yard is covered with lilies. Bright yellow lilies that are standing tall and I begin to wonder what they'll look like in summer, since it's February and they already look so nice.

There are brown brick walls covering the house and it contrasts proudly with the white paint and large glass windows. It's a typical modern Seattle building with a proud twist. I immediately want to be inside it.

He opens the large doors and leads me inside the house. It's much warmer inside here and it has the strong smell of coffee mixed with lemons. He takes off his shoes by the door and I find myself doing the same. Good thing I wore socks, I can't imagine my feet on the cold floor.

We keep on walking through the hallway before he finally makes a turn. I find myself in a spacious room. It looks like a living room, but it's smaller and the furniture in here doesn't look like it belongs in a living room.

Large blue and white bean bags litter the room and the plasma TV on the wall takes up all the space. The room itself is painted in a dull white color and except the bean bags, the other furnitures are covered in white color. I immediately love white color.

"Do you want something to drink? Water or maybe juice? Anything you want." He looks nervous.

"Water, please."

I sit on one of the bean bags while he goes to get the water. I get my phone from my pocket and send my mum a quick text that I'll be back late. She doesn't reply and I continue to scan the room. At the far end of the room, a display of pictures have been arranged on one of the white shelves. It's impossible to miss as it gives color to that part of the room.

I walk over to the shelf and begin to look at the pictures. It's mostly pictures of him and a woman I suspect to be his mom. I recognize her as the woman he was talking to earlier. In one of the pictures, he holds a plate of food in his hands, smiling brightly; his hair shorter than it is now. The plate is up and his mom opens her mouth wide; possibly in laughter.

In another photo, he's in camp clothes with his mom and they both stand for the camera. A girl is between both of them and her Auburn hair shines bright compared to the dull dark color both him and his mother's hair seem to share.They are all smiling widely, with the girl holding a fishing hook.

I'm about to go to the next photo when he returns holding two bottles of water and a large tray of doughnuts. He sets them down on the table at the middle of the room and I go back to take a seat on the bean bag I was previously on.

"Do you live here alone?" I finally blurt out. I might have been more curious than I appeared to be.

"Hell no, I live with my mom. But she's at a friend's place, she's probably going to get back late."

"Oh". I say looking down at my feet. There's a tiny almost invisible hole on the eyes of the cat drawn on my socks.

I lean forward and grab a bottle of water from the table, ignoring the doughnut. I twist the cap and chug it down my throat, letting it ease my tension.

"So, where do I start from. What do you wanna know?" He takes off the bandana on his head and places it on the empty bean bag by his side.

"Start from the beginning. I want to know everything." I close the bottle of the water and place it by my side awaiting what he has to say.

Niall's POV

I can't believe I'm about to tell my entire life history to a stranger I only met two days ago. In a weird way, I want to tell her everything and let her comfort me because I know she definitely would.

I grab the other water from the table and drink from it. I need to be hydrated to at least tell my tale. I clear my throat and begin to think of where to start from.

"Don't over think it. Just begin." She smiles at me. Even her smile is strained.

"Okay, here goes nothing." I finally stretch out my legs. Ready to tell my story.

"I grew up in Denver with my parents. It was a really quiet childhood since I was the only child. My dad was, sorry, is a very rich business man so I practically had everything I wanted. My mum works in publishing so she tried as much as possible to always to bring her work home so she could be there with me. My dad always tried too, but he travels a lot so he was barely there. Not that I was complaining or anything; he scares shit out of me. One night..."

I grab the water bottle and down the last of it contents. I'm suddenly very nervous. She's still looking at me; expecting me to continue.

"One night, he came back home from a business meeting real late. We weren't expecting him home that day therefore my mum made no dinner for him. His eyes were very red and he was angrier than usual. I soon realized that he was drunk. He asked my mum to get him food and when she took time warming it up for him, he walked into the kitchen and pounced on her. That was the first time in my life I had seen my dad beat up my mum. The next morning, he apologized to her; told her he lost a huge amount of money on a failed project and decided to get drunk. He took us for a fancy dinner that evening."

I stop talking cause the memory now chokes me. I'm struggling to forget, but I remember everything like it happened yesterday. I remember everything he did.

"If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to." She has a sympathetic look in her eyes.

"No. I want to tell you. I want to talk about it." She nods her head at me and reaches for a doughnut.

"I thought the beating was a one time thing. But it just continued after that period and each time, he comes back the next day with a different excuse and some fancy dinner. My mum always forgave him, she was a fool for him and I hated it. By the time I turned 12, he beat her more often and his apologies had now seized. He still took her for events and each time someone asked, she would often say "oh this bruises are from gardening. I'm pretty clumsy." The women were pretty foolish to believe that. My mum still prayed for him, and hoped that he'll change. But he never did. He drank more, hung out with the bad crowd and came back home to pounce on my mum, sometimes me too. He would beat me like we were two professional wrestlers and I'll take it all. Just to make sure he doesn't touch my mum. I hate him so much. I hate him for making my mum suffer so much. I hate him for making me hate my childhood."

I allow myself to cry now. The tears stain my cheeks and I feel hot all over, despite the air conditioner. I feel something on my back and I turn round to find her at my back; rubbing it and trying to soothe me. I give her a calm smile.

"It's okay, it's all in the past." She rests her head on my back, giving me the will to go on.

"When my mum decided that she had had enough was one night he came back home drunk as usual, but this time around, he was with a woman. I still remember her disgusting red lipstick like it was just yesterday. She clung onto him like a fucking leach. He stumbled to where my mom and I were and do you know what he did next?"

Iturn to face her so I can take in her countenance. But she's still staring at me. The same look of expectancy drawn on her face.

"He introduced my mum as his freaking maid! Not only did he disrespect her by bringing a woman to the house, he also introduced her as his maid. We packed our things that night; my mum and I. She didn't wait till the next morning for an explanation. For 10 years she stuck with his bullshit and she was done that night. I can't explain the joy I felt just watching her as she folded our clothes and threw them in a bag. I was just about to turn 16 at that time."

Claire's POV

He turns to face me fully before he continues. "My mom filed for a divorce the next day. She was really done with him. We were staying at my grandma's house and it was really hard for me going to school from there but I did it. I did it for my mum. He refused to grant my mum a divorce and came over plenty times to beg my mum. He even told her he'd quit his habit of drinking if she came back. All she begged for for ten freaking years was for him to stop drinking and when she finally left, he was telling her he'd stop. He was as pathetic as that. My mum didn't stop though, she kept on pushing the divorce and after a full year, he finally agreed. He also paid her a lot of alimony too. The lawyer was so good. We were finally happy."

He laughs to himself but the laughter holds no humor, only pain. Lots of buried pain and anger. I grab him and rest his head on my laps. The bean bag is small to carry the both of us so his leg rests on the floor. I stroke his hair, willing for him to continue.

"We were okay, but the memory of him was all over the goddamn state. So my mom opted that we move out of the state. My grandma wasn't so happy about it. She wanted us to move back to Mexico with her; that's where my mom is from. My mum didn't want to. She wanted to work; despite the fact that we had more than enough to even see me through college. She began searching for publishing jobs across the whole country. She found one here, in Seattle and that's how we moved here. I was so happy to see her happy you know? I was even preparing for college. I thought God finally responded to us."

He looks up at me and finds that I'm still staring at him. He turns his eyes back to the floor where it was before and continues.

"It was the day that I got my tattoo. I remember coming back home excited to show my mum what I got but my excitement was cut short when I found her spralwed on the floor, eyes closed and breathing faint. I immediately rushed her to the hospital. The doctor then confirmed she had Parkinson's. She told me she had been seeing signs but brushed it off as stress. I was furious. My mum didn't deserve this. She was a good woman. She doesn't deserve to suffer this much. I took a gap year from college. Just to be with her when she needed me. She was against it at first, but I know how much she wants me to stay.

That's why you saw me crying. I was crying because I have to be strong for my mum, I was crying because just when she finds happiness, she's leaving soon. I was crying because all the good people in the Earth leave too soon. I was crying because that was the only way to let go of all my emotions at that moment. My mum looks strong, but I know how terrified she is of actually dying."

He's crying now, he didn't make a sound, but I feel the tears pouring onto my lap. Drop after drop it stains my jeans and I don't want him to stop. I want him to keep on crying till he gets rid of all his pain. I wish that I can get inside him and cleanse him of all his hurt and painful memories. I want to rebuild him.

"She's leaving soon and I know it. She doesn't deserve all this." His crying is louder now.

He rests his head sideways on my lap and wraps his hand around my waist. I'm still stroking his hair because I don't know what else to do.

"You'll stay with me right? You won't leave me Claire. You won't leave me like she did. You won't leave me like my mum's about to."

I want to ask him who he's referring to as 'she'. But instead I find myself replying. "No, I'll never leave you."

How can I leave him even if I wanted to?