Life is like a constant state of switching from light to dark as I am thrust back into the spotlight of the big top. Lochlan's gone full shutdown on me though, sitting in the darkness, top hat and drink at hand. He looks like The Shade character, slouched in the rain on the patio, refusing to speak until I conjure up enough helper phrases from family therapy to open him up just a crack. His skin is on inside out these days anyways, as is mine and Ben's too but Lochlan will never accept this. Never ever ever.
Can you help me? I finally ask and he turns sideways in the chair. I don't know how drunk he is.
I could help by leaving. Then you'd never have to feel bad. I wouldn't have to live like a norm anymore and you would be free to wear yourself to pieces rubbing up against the guy who ruined everything for us. What an extended reward for him. What a fucking curse for me.
I'm not rewarding him, I'm taking something I need and punishing him too. (Woah, there goes that fleeting foolish misdireccted insane pride of mine again.)
What do you NEED that you can't get in this house?
Cole.
Cole's dead, Bridget. Fucking his brother isn't going to bring him back.
But it does. And thinking that is the only way I can deal with Caleb.
Then you need more help then you're getting, Neamhchiontach, but you know that already.
It works. You're supposed to look the other way. And don't ever call me that again.
You're walking around telling everyone I'm you're one and only. Clearly it's a line from an act and I think I've seen it before. He takes another drink.
It's not an act.
Then leave Diabhal alone.
I can't. If I don't go he'll take Henry from me.
We can fight him. No judge is going to separate a boy from his mother.
They will if it's me. All he has to list everything that's wrong with me, everything I've done and no judge is going to leave a boy with his fucked up mother.
He takes another drink.
We're fucked, Locket.
No. You're fucked. I could just walk away.
Ruth needs you.
She has a whole collection of better fathers than I could ever be right here.
That isn't true.
I missed her childhood because I was off trying to forget about you because I forget how much this hurts. Then I come back for more and I'm still not exactly raising her. He pays for everything. PJ looks after the rest. Kind of like with you.
None of this is going to change until Henry is a legal adult.
I don't have to live with it. I could go. Start over. Go back to the show. Live out my days from a suitcase, in front of a crowd. This isn't me.
You need to stay here. With me.
With who? You aren't yourself. My Bridget doesn't sweep around in a Valentino gown pressing buttons for fire. My Bridget stands in the pouring rain, shivering from the cold, her stomach growling, in the same clothes she's worn for two weeks straight and she can't keep the lighters dry but she smiles so big for me I think my heart shattered every time I looked at her. She looked SO HAPPY. She sure doesn't look so happy now, Miss Millionaire.
I'm not, because you're not.
THEN FIX THIS, BRIDGET. Because, Baby, I've got one foot out the door and if I go I won't come back this time. You'll have to come to me and dammit, I don't think I can wait forever for your loyalty to them all to fucking die already.
THIS ISN'T REALLY THE BEST WEEK TO SAY THAT TO ME, LOCHLAN.
IT'S A BETTER TIME THAN ANY OTHER BECAUSE MAYBE, FOR ONCE, YOU'LL HEAR ME.
