Deathless

Chapter 19: Millie

I walk into the front room, trying to look calm, wanting to feel at ease, but I don't. The twins don't look up from the TV, their fingers clicking rapidly as they destroy aliens or monsters or zombies or whatever age-inappropriate game they've convinced Roisin to buy them. She's lying on a settee, a mug perched on her chest, a half-eaten box of chocolates at her side fanning herself like something from a Jane Austen novel.

"Jackson's on his way. I'll be heading out..."

Roisin shoots up, her empty mug bouncing its way across the carpet.

"Millie... you look gorgeous." Her mouth goes as round as her eyes, and I feel my cheeks heat. I don't want to look like I care, not too much anyway. I'm not naïve, Jackson and I agreed to just be friends, however much I might want more. Since the beginning, I've been torn between fighting for him, wanting to change his mind, and simply accepting that friendship is all he wants. But it's hard, so hard when every instinct, every lingering look, or touch on my flesh tells me something else. I don't want to humiliate myself, but I don't want to give up on the first thing I've truly wanted for myself in a long time.

"Thanks," I mutter, giving a playful spin so Roisin can see the full outfit. This time when I walk into Worship I will be wearing something I feel comfortable in, that feels like me. My dress isn't some itchy, stretchy thing, but soft and curve-skimming. In the deepest shade of emerald. I've added a few extra curls to my hair, but I've left it loose around my shoulders. The only thing I've kept the same is the blood-red lip that Chloe recommended for me. She was right about that, if nothing else.

Roisin giggles and stands up. Sauntering over to me, she puts her hand on my shoulders and leans in to whisper in my ear. She smells of her Irish coffee, like whisky and espresso. Her breath is warm against my cheek.

"He won't have a chance in hell."

I'd hoped I'd hidden it well, but my desires for this night were written all over me. I hated feeling this vulnerable. I hated feeling so out of control. But I loved it too. The anticipation, the excitement of what could be.

"And what... what if it's not? What if it changes nothing?" My voice is hoarse, my heart has lept into my throat.

Roisin smiles, touching up my curls like it's the most natural thing in the world to do, and I feel comforted. For a moment, I feel guilty, like I've supplanted Mum for someone else. But Roisin has been here for me when the rest of the world left me behind. She means more to me than I ever realised, than I allowed myself to realise in the fog of my self-pity. She isn't Mum. She isn't blood, and yet here she is, being my family anyway.

"Well, one of the hardest things in life is knowing when to cut your losses and to walk away. Jackson's told you what he wants, and maybe he's not being honest with himself. Or maybe he's being completely honest. Either way, you may not change his mind and at some point, you may need to accept that. It's been weeks now and nothing's changed, has it?"

"I know, I just, I feel so different around him. Less..."

"I know." Her smile is sad and slow. "But maybe that feeling... you can only have that as friends."

I nod but say nothing. She's right, but it doesn't stop the constricting feeling in my chest.

"Enjoy tonight, let it be what it is and I really hope you get whatever it is you need."

"Thank you," I put my arms around her in a hug, and she takes a moment to get over her shock and surprise, but slowly she wraps her arms around me. Her cashmere jumper is buttery soft under my hands. She's done everything she could for me since Mum died, and I wonder if I've ever shown her how much I appreciate it.