Give me one

I knew I'd find him there. Out of all the places he could've fled to and the ones he often used to, the school gym was just the obvious choice. I didn't run after him. After three months of freedom thus far I still lacked the strength. I just walked. Besides, I figured he needed a few minutes to himself after what just happened. It was a bad idea to take him out so soon-he wasn't coping in the same way the rest of us were. Briana was already studying for her nursing degree, maman was making dresses from home, Antoinette had a job at the registry office and I was set on finishing my high-school degree. We were all determined to build lives for ourselves and actually enjoyed the race to normality-but we were leaving one of our team-mates behind at the starting line.

And yet...I'd been patient, haven't I? Ever since we got back to Paris I'd always been there. I held him when he slept, brushed his tears away when he cried, let him rage and thrash about my room when he was angry, laughed along with him when he could bring himself to appreciate a joke. I did it because I wanted to, because I love him. And when you love a person you did whatever you could to help them. Even if it meant sometimes sacrificing the things you wanted. I didn't think I wanted for much then either. Just a nice night out with my friends, eating dinner, talking about our lives, soaking in the freedom that we were deprived for two, long years. Right now even, those friends of ours were still at the restaurant, trying to smooth things over with the manager. I didn't want to go back after this; I wasn't sure I could face the mess we created.

When I finally arrived at the school, our old Jewish secondary, I saw the lights inside the gym had been turned on and I knew it had to be him. So I squeezed in through the back door and found myself shivering. It was always so cold in here! No wonder I hated P.E so much. Angelo though, was in his element. Stripped down to his undershirt, sweat dripping down his flushed face, matting his fiery curls. He was dancing around the punching-bag, landing hard, brutal punches to the faded, abused leather. He was forcing out the pain, the powerlessness with every punch. I knew it-I'd seen him do it his entire life.

"Are you going to tell me why you did what you did at the restaurant?"

He ignored me at first, landing more, fierce punches to the bag. When I saw the look in his eyes I had to pull myself back a little.

"Don't talk then. I'll just wait here until you're finished."

He growled, the punches becoming frenzied and aimless. Anger and boxing had becoming one inside him more times than he'd care to count. Now it was just anger.

"Have you come here just to yell at me?!" He snarled, "you might as well. I humiliated you, didn't I? In front of your cousin and your precious friend!"

"Are you really going to act like this is about keeping up appearances? I thought you knew me better than that. All I want to know is why you did what you did so you can get it out of your system and we can go home."

"Oh yes, because going back to a nice, warm rat-hole in a shitty neighborhood is the most important thing for us to do! Forget that we can't live in a proper house because our so-called 'neighbors' still treat us like dirt. Maybe we should have another war while we're at it? Kill another few million so we can be human-beings again? It worked with Germany, why not us?"

He was goading me. Wanting me to be as angry as he was about our situation. I'd dealt it before, waited for him to calm down and assured him with all my heart that I would always be on his side. I didn't want to do it this time. I'd been the optimist time and time again and I was tired of it.

"Don't be angry with me Angelo. I don't want to fight, I don't want to be angry at Germany forever and I wouldn't wish another war like this on anybody. I just wanted to have a nice night where I could be with my friends and if I pressured you into coming then I'm sorry. If you want to stay here a little longer then that's fine. I'll be at home."

I turned around, heading for the door. I had to wait, hold it until I got home. I wouldn't let him see me cry, I wouldn't!

"Kate...please, don't leave." He pleaded softly, "I didn't mean to shout like that, I swear. I just...stay, please."

My better-judgement was telling me to leave. To put some space between us and go where there wouldn't be anger or shouting or a man overcome by the need to hurt something. I'd had enough of that.

"I don't know how many times I can do this Angelo." I said, "I love you more than anything but I won't just be a doormat whenever you lose your temper! I'm frustrated too, I'm sad too, in case you've forgotten, I was there too! I dealt their blows, I starved along with the rest of them, I watched the people around me die and yes, I still see their faces whenever I close my eyes. I know you have suffered and you still do but I want to comfort you, not spar with you. Please try to understand I just want to be...I just want to be me again. You don't have to join me but can you please have some mercy?"

I'd betrayed myself. I was crying. Fat, ugly tears that streaked my face and smeared the makeup Briana had so painstakingly applied. I had to go. Before he started to pity me. Just a few months ago a couple of lone tears could've gotten me shot. And even if you could cry, who would be there to comfort you? Not maman, not Briana and certainly not our barrack-boss.

"No Kate, I didn't mean to." He came to me quickly, trying to take me in his arms. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

I fought him first, trying to wipe the tears away myself. A command I'd fought to remember off-by-heart screaming 'don't let them see you vulnerable!' But he pushed through the facade I was struggling to hold onto and just held me. Bringing me down to the gymnastics mat where he cradled me to his chest. There was no use in fighting him now. I couldn't deny that despite my anger, I wanted this. I wanted just an inch after giving him miles and miles.

"I'm so sorry pigeon," he whispered, brushing his thumb against my wet cheek. "I just get so angry and scared and I...I fuck things up. Just like I fucked up this dinner and how I keep fucking up your life. I don't mean to be cruel-I hate being cruel. I just feel like nobodies hearing me! That I shout until my throat feels raw and it doesn't make any difference."

"I hear you Angelo. I don't know how many times I have to say that before you believe me."

"I know you hear me. I think you must be the only person who does. And yet I take it all out on you anyway because of that very reason. If you can hear me it means I could hurt you. Hurt you the way I want to hurt them."

"You want to hurt me?"

"No pigeon, no. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. Being that way, saying those things, it makes me feel alive. Like I can have an affect on somebody."

"Then why can't you do it through loving me?" I pressed him in a broken voice. "I love you-I'd do anything for you. I've been doing everything for you!" 'Just say it' I silently reminded myself. I knew I'd regret it if I didn't. "Everything you feel, I felt. Everything that angers you, angers me. Every time this life has become too much for you I am always there to hold you together. I shouldn't expect you do repay every gesture but I won't let you throw everything back in my face."

Now he was the one crying. I wanted him to see what he was doing to me, every time he lost control like this. I could comfort him, love him, be his crutch but I couldn't do that if there wasn't a reason for me to stay. Give me one, I begged him. I didn't want to be without him but I also wanted to be happy.

"I couldn't stand the thought of anyone hurting you," he murmured. Tears wetting the top of my head. "But I'm hurting you right now, aren't I? I'm using you and it's not fair. Well, I won't go on like this. If I'm going to be a human-being again then I can't take all the special things for granted. I did too much of that before the war and I'm not going to continue now."

I couldn't reply. These were my tears to shed, not his. I think he understood this eventually. So he just held me tight against him, rocking be back and forth, whispering 'I'm sorry' over a dozen times into my ear. I didn't mean to, I love you, please forgive me. And I think those were the reasons I needed most of all. Regret, remorse, a love that ran as deep as an ocean.

"Kate? I know we can't turn back the clock and redo tonight but...there's still one thing I can give you."

He stood, offering me his hand. I let him lift me to the ground, over to the side of the gym where they used to hold the school socials. He placed my hand on his shoulder, his on my waist and laced our fingers together in a stance that was almost like muscle memory.

"You've always loved to dance. You were the best out of all of us."

"I haven't done it in so long."

"Does that matter?"

As we moved across the floor, watching our feet and each other as we hummed the Blue Danube, I realized this must've been the fourth reason. Dancing, singing, being the most ethereal thing in the room made me feel free, even when I was nothing but a prisoner. If he could remember that when I couldn't then maybe there was hope for us yet.