Page 44 of The Grosvenor's Ghost
I remember it vividly, actually. We were—what, thirteen? We weren’t even dating. He never asked me to be hisgirlfriend until year eleven when we were sixteen but in a way, we were always together before that. Right back from when we were kids, it was always me and him playing the parents in ‘Mums and Dads’ on the playground. This particular time however, we were at some real fancy event. A royal event. None of our other friends were there and it was actually rare that me and him were invited. Sophia was wearing the most gorgeous tiara. Opals, diamonds, sapphires. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before. I turned to Arthur, told him he had to marry me so I could wear one. He looked at me, said ‘why wait?’ And then a few weeks later that showed up at my door.
Like I said, it’s not real. It must’ve been a few hundred pounds at least but it’s why he got it for me that I sit it on my shelf with things that should actually be in an overseas safe. The thing with the Grosvenor kids is that they’re different from all the other families. They have access to money, they had parents that didn’t care, they had siblings who died, they had addiction swimming through their genes. But despite all of that, he still made an effort. Most kids would’ve sacked any hope of anything right off. Arthur never did. He always made sure I had the hope that one day we were going to have the fairytale ending.
Yes, it’s honestly kind of cringe when you think about it but I think that’s why I love it. Whenever he saw it in my wardrobe, he’d laugh and say he hoped I’d been practicing before he brought me a real one. It was stupid and funny and childish but at the time we were kids so it worked and it was special.
“Gosh,” Evangeline shakes her head. “Can’t believe you almost had a heart attack over a shitty bit of metal.”
“Shut up.” I’d never normally be so harsh with her but I know she doesn’t like Arthur at the minute—Sophia told me when Arthur came over when he first got back that the reunion didn’t go to plan.
“I can’t believe he was like that with you,” she says.
“Like what?”
“You know…” she waves her hand about. “In love.”
I lick my lips, frown. “Why do you find that so hard to believe?”
“Because he’s a twat.”
“He’s not really.”
“He is, though.”
“He’s not.”
“I know him better than you.”
“I actually doubt that.”
She arches her eyebrow. “Are we arguing?”
“I don’t know.” Put my hands on my hips. “Are we?”
“Maybe?” She shrugs.
“For someone who hates Arthur so much, this really feels like an argument over him.”
She clenches her jaw, her pretty blue eyes twitching. “Never said I hated him.”
“Well, do you hate him?”
“Most days, yes.”
“There you go, then!” I throw my hands up, spin on my heel and go back to my bed.
“I said most days! That’s not all the time!” She argues, standing at the foot of my bed.
“But you haven’t even given him a chance, Ev!”
“I have!” She nods to herself. “Multiple times in the past and where did that get me?”
“Where do you think it got me?” I shout, staring at her.
She doesn’t say anything. We’re both in very similar ways and we both wish we didn’t hate the same person in the way we do because this kind of hating is hard. Addiction is a hard thing to hate someone for. If you have even an ounce of empathy—which Ev and I both do—then it’s tricky not to feel sorry forhim. You want to hate him because he hurt you—and fuck me, did he hurt me. He hurt me more than I hurt myself with blades, he hurt me more than my sister leaving, he hurt me more than my parents absence growing up. And yet, I still hate that I hate him.
It doesn’t even make sense. How on earth can you hate to hate someone? I want to forgive him and I want to love him and I want him to give me more rushy bedtime kisses but I’m still stuck in the same place. I’m still frightened, I’m still on edge, I’m still anxious and afraid that when things get good, they’ll go bad.
Dr.Kane tells me things are allowed to work out for me but I’m finding it hard to believe him because every time things do, they never last. Good things don’t last and Arthur is my only good thing.
