He called this moon old once, when we were on the road and I made jokes about it for the rest of life.

So you think you're lonely
Well my friend I'm lonely too

Last night was the first chance to get everyone out on the patio for dinner since forever. Heaters were on but it really wasn't that cold until late. We had burgers and salad, olives, cheese and wine. Lochlan played DJ and August helped him, sticking with eighties ballads and mostly light stuff. Caleb sat on the steps with a drink and didn't say much. John played along with the songs on his guitar as he was inspired and Ruth and Henry disappeared to play games with their friends online the moment their plates were clean.

Sam and I sit smushed together in an adirondack chair watching Daniel and Schuyler slow-dance. 

I'm so jealous, I say abruptly, my eyes widening at my own admission. Apparently I'm a little more drunk than I was half an hour ago. 

Of their dance or something else?

I don't know. Maybe of just everything. They have colorful histories but they're so committed to each other. 

And you envy that? Why? Don't you think Lochlan is committed to you?

Sometimes I think Lochlan and I are looking for the absolute best way to hurt each other and it's disguised as forever. 

Wow. Ask for a spare marble, get a cannonball. Do you want to go inside and talk for a bit? Maybe sober up a little, Jesus, Bridget. This doesn't help matters. 

Helps my matters. And no. I might miss my shot at a dance. 

You can ask him, you know. 

No, I have to wait for him to ask me. I look at Lochlan and he looks away when he catches my eye. I know the music took him somewhere, probably to better times when we were scared and homeless. Hungry, ruined. Whatever. He'll still claim it was better than this is. He's stubborn like that.

You two are children. 

Yes. 

I can bring him in and we can talk together. 

Or, you know, you could stop being a reverend all the time and just have some fun. 

Not when my friend is hurting. 

Your friend is always hurting. 

Then I will always reverend, he whispers, finishing my drink so I won't. 

Selling them the fear of hell and fairy tales absurd.

And we're here at the end
The final descent
One minute here
and the next you're dead and gone

No light music today, instead I'm torturing myself with one of my favorites. Gravesend, a band so heavy you can't even pick them up, with a muddy, positively filthy guitar sound wrapped around lyrics I can only pick out parts of, just enough to know I love it, just enough to let it carry me off into the dark again.

When they want to be that heavy, I mean. Dead and Gone is a perfect song, maybe just for me. I put on Ben's headphones and let the music order my emotions into their places. Then I let the words sink in, marking my skin permanently, keeping me awake, keeping me in pins and needles, forcing me into that dark with eyes wide.

Are you going to discount everything I try to do here now, Neamhchiontach? The Devil's question rests against my ears, with no room left to crawl inside.

I don't know yet, I think. But I'm fairly certain my thoughts are blocked by all this beautiful noise.

Well there is only now in the future
There’s a truth you don’t hear much now do you
Hold the absolute that’s running through you
And be like you belong

PJ and I scrubbed the house this morning. Kitchens, bathrooms, floors. Windows open, incense burning. Foy Vance on super loud, in spite of his protests. In spite of his plea for Testament or Sepultura or hell, we can listen to Def Leppard if you want, Bridge but not this. 

But I like this. 

Well okay then. 

We're trying to keep control of the dust and the footprints and the general filth that comes from having a house that's partially torn apart and I'm also trying not to get into it with Caleb for the same reason though I took the color swatches he gave them for paint (it's. almost. done.) and threw them out and said in no uncertain terms were they to use those colors. They've already purchased the paint, Emmett said, as if I would say okay fine, please paint my whole house dark grey. On the inside. 

Caleb thought I would love it.

I do, for his house but not for this one.

This one's getting white everything. And everything that's not white will be black. And here and there in different rooms will be punches of ochre or smokey teal or medium grey. But the walls will be white and god help them they needed to buy heavy duty scrubbable paint anyway. We're not a museum, we're a functional family household and the house gets lived in. Fingerprints everywhere, paint everywhere. Kerosene and guitar picks and cookie crumbs and endless coffee cups. Don't give me something I can't clean.

I think I like to clean.

It's cathartic, like running used to be only now when I finish my reward is that my chores are done.

Disciples, discipline (Jesus referee).

When I wake up everyone is gone and Jake is kneeling by the edge of the bed praying. Arms covering his beautiful blonde waves as he always prayed, as if bombs were falling from the sky.

They are, he would laugh. Psychic bombs. Bombs of doubt, of hesitation, bombs of denial. 

He looks up when I touch his head and he goes out of focus straight away, as I haven't been this close to him in months, years, maybe. Tears flow down the side of my face into my hair. He wipes them away and smiles at me gently. I can see right through his face.

Don't wear the ring, Princess. His voice. I can feel it in my blood, the deep bass pumping with each heart beat.

I don't want to. I feel like they're forcing me to. 

Do you want me to go to them?

You can do that?

Yes. It just takes a lot of energy so I prefer to visit you instead. I don't know if it's finite. 

It isn't, Jake, you've been gone so long. 

This is my fault. Ghosts have remorse. Film at eleven.

It is. 

You would have left me for Loch anyway. 

Probably. But you'd still be here. 

Yes. Like the rest. 

Then come back. 

I can't, Baby. But I can help protect you from Caleb. 

He's not going to hurt me. 

He's still fucking with you. Why not ask him if he cares so much about you now to prove it and eliminate the ring from your current stresses. 

Oh. I didn't think of that. 

It blows my mind that no one suggested that. 

See? We need you and you checked the fuck out. 

Bridget, I-

Just go away, Pooh. I hate myself for saying it and when I open my eyes again he's gone and Lochlan is standing there.

I was coming to wake you up for brunch and you were talking in your sleep. Quite lucidly, actually. 

Jake was here. Or he was you. Or maybe he's shapeshifting to stick around. I don't know. I don't want to wake up now. 

I close my eyes and turn away. I hear Lochlan leave after a minute and I press my fists against my chest, hunching down into a ball. It hurts so bad.

***

When I woke up again everyone was out and instead of catching up with them for church I decided to go to hell instead. Caleb is having a slow morning too, shirt half-buttoned, bare feet, dress pants, no Breitling, no tie, uncombed wet hair. When I see him the tears start before the words and his eyes cloud over with concern.

What is it, Neamhchiontach. 

And I tell him. I tell him if he loves me and he wants to be a part of my life then he needs to not pull stunts and force me to do things like wear jewelry that I don't even trust fully. That if he's changed and he's trying then he needs to remove as much stress from this relationship as he can, not add to it.

He is rocked backwards, his eyes welling up too. I didn't mean to hurt you with this. I wanted it to be something that reassured you. 

It doesn't! It scares me and you just keep strongarming me. This isn't how it's done! 

He goes and sits on the edge of the big chair, hands pressed together at his mouth. I'm so sorry, Bridget. 

Take it back, have it undone. I'm not wearing it. 

He stands up and comes to me, pulling the ring off my finger, putting it in his pocket, kissing me hard.

I'm sorry, he says again, and I can barely hear him now. And he kisses the top of my head and shoves me out the door before I can absorb his disappointment or risk his change of heart.

Indigo people.

Sam created a rescue party of one, after the weird paralysis of damn near everyone else took over and he realized that something was more off than previously thought.

Something's always off with Caleb. Caleb's always angled for a better purchase on something he wants. This ring erodes the steadfastness of my army. It gives him a foot in the door and now it's wedged open again whereas before it was firmly closed. He brought the ring back over and put it on my finger, glowering when I pointed out that finger is for wedding rings and also that finger is far too small for that ring so he settled for my middle finger, right beside my other rings, Ben's wedding band and Lochlan's heart-shaped diamond wedding set.

That's not comfortable, I complain, moving it to the middle finger of my right hand. He rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything and probably twenty minutes after I leave he'll discover I left it in the bottom of my drink again. Ice with ice. I'm so done with this. If he won't have reduced to its value and put it back in the bank I'm going to have to.

Sam is not all that worried, fresh off Easter faith and on holidays for a couple of weeks, ready to dive back into the exploded ruins of my memory and sort it all out again. He tries to keep up with me but it's hard and for all of his organizing and filing I have a tendency to pull drawers out and dump them all over the floor the moment he leaves, looking for the things I need, not knowing where he put them.

He reassures me that he'll stay with us to help find everything that's been lost and we spend the whole night talking. Sometimes I fall asleep while he and Lochlan talk. Sam has his arm around Lochlan's shoulder. Sometimes they listen to me when I wake up enough to participate in the conversation, and sometimes I leave Lochlan's other side to push into the centre, between them. I put my hands up to Lochlan's face and ask him what Caleb threatened him with and he finally says that it wasn't anything specific, that Caleb reminded him of what happens when I get too far from him, that I turn inwards and start tearing myself and those around me apart and he thinks everything needs to be left the way it is. He assured him of the ring's meaning to prove that he wants it left the way it is and for whatever reason, be it childhood loyalties, exhaustion or naivité Lochlan believes him and told him that he's going to hold Caleb to that promise. Caleb told him he just wants me to be happy.

Sam believes that too.

I still don't know if I do but Ben shows up and takes Sam's other side and all the arms are wrapped around everyone and I fall asleep in the sweetest, safest group hug and I don't hold my breath. I don't clench my teeth. I don't even dream.

Tiny Friday scaries, tiny Friday braves.

I sent a whole host of reputed goldsmiths inquiries as to what I can do with a six-figure ring if the recipient doesn't accept it. I signed Caleb's name and used his email.

I can't wait for him to get the replies.

In the meantime I left the ring in a glass of water on the counter beside the kitchen sink. Come and steal it, it's well-insured and there's no such thing as a heirloom in this day and age. The only expensive piece I've ever kept from Caleb is the Breitling. I tell the boys if I ever get mugged for it I'll most likely die because I won't be giving it up. No sir. Shoot me if you have to.

Loch said just not to talk about the ring.

For once he doesn't want to talk? Makes me wonder what he got. Threats or a present too? I haven't seen the latter so I'll have to guess the former which means I have to tear him down later to find out what Caleb has bullied him with. You know, if Lochlan ever stops working, I mean.

Since everything else has gone to hell this means the highlight of this week was my beautiful Benjamin, sobbing very quietly last evening watching the final game played by the Sedin twins, who are retiring from the Canucks after eighteen years. They started out great, but I think they overstayed. They need to coach the team though, that would be awesome. Ben tells me I'm blasphemous and not to say anymore. He heads downstairs to weep softly into his microphone or maybe into his guitar hole.

Forced into silence I called Joel.

Joel remains mildly alarmed and wonders out loud what Caleb is doing now and then I realize he's being an energy vampire and I tell him I have to go.

I go to see Daniel but he isn't home.

I go to see August but he's also moderately alarmed and I don't want to talk about Caleb.

I go see Caleb.

Where is the ring?

I lost it, I lie. He knows I'm lying because I'm not good at this.

Go fetch it and then we'll have a drink. To celebrate making it official. 

Making what official? 

Girlfriend/boyfriend status? He laughs.

Which means the pressure's on now, huh. 

No, it isn't. I want to die formally involved with someone I'm proud of. 

Then you should ask Ben to marry you. 

He's not my type. 

Too big? 

Maybe. He laughs again. Seriously. Go get it, Bridge. I need some happiness. I'm glad you're here. 

I told you. I lost it. 

You didn't. 

I did, I went swimming and it must have fallen off. 

Funny, since PJ sent me a picture of it earlier in a glass in your kitchen. 

The traitor. 

I think he was trying to rub it in that you're not wearing it. 

Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. 

So you put it in a glass. 

I was going to freeze it but I got distracted by Ben's grief for the twins. 

What? 

The Canucks. 

Oh. Yes, well, go and get the fucking ring before I do it for you. 

You can go get it if you want. 

Don't go anywhere, Bridget. 

What if I do? 

You'll wish you hadn't. 

Yeah, I wouldn't date a guy who threatens me. 

And yet here we are.

Shotgun picks the music, driver shuts his cakehole.

What are you running from?
Taking pills to get along
Creating walls to call your own
So no one catches you drifting off and
Doing all the things that we all do

Caleb is driving, therefore I get to put on playlists as loud as they will go. This one is called YESTERDAYS, which means every song has the word Yesterday in the title. It's ridiculous. I only turn it up until I can feel the melody in my very blood and no further, though if you ask those with perfect hearing they may claim it's a volume that hurts. They're not wrong. It hurts me too and I like it.

We have business downtown. I keep saying he should summon everyone to the point instead, because even the bankers will come to you now but he prefers to keep business in offices and keep home for not working much at all anymore. We split up for two meetings, meeting back up for the third and end with brunch, which to him is a good enough reason to head downtown. We find a patio that isn't even open for the season as of yet but he speaks with someone and soon we are seated alone outside under the first turns of the newly serviced heaters. Every place has them here. We have them at home. It makes a nice difference but I leave my coat on nonetheless. Might have to make a quick getaway. Might have to make sure my food isn't poisoned. Might have to face this firing squad of one as he calmly reloads, missing me by a hair's breadth over and over again.

Why this song? 

It's sad. It hurts. 

And this is good?

Oh, yes. It also has no history for me. I like that part more. 

I remember this, I think. You were out of school.

Yes. 

I was already practicing. 

Yes. 

Seems like a million years ago. 

Twenty years. 

Jesus Christ. Do you not SEE how time is speeding past? He begins to speed. I jumped forty feet when he yelled. I would have launched myself out of the car had it featured a sunroof.

Diabhal, please slow dow-

Keep the fucking ring, Bridget. Know that it represents all of my promises to you with assurances that I don't expect more than I have but I want to-no, I NEED to legitimatize this relationship and the only way I can see to do that is to have you wear a ring from me. 

If you were secure in your own-

It's not for me. It's for you. And I ran it by Lochlan. He didn't care. 

Don't believe him because he's lying to you. 

Maybe he and the rest of the Collective enjoy the lifestyle they've become accustomed to. Maybe the threat of losing it on a whim by a girl with a head full of stars and cotton candy is a difficult threat to live under every single day. 

Then maybe you should give them rings and they would have that security. 

They believe in you, Bridget. 

Well, that's dumb. But I say it under my breath, facing away from him, looking out the window at the cold rain on the streets as we drive home. The ring is heavy on my finger but heavier on my heart.

Let's talk about anything but my love life today, okay?

I finished Hoffman's Rules of Magic. Yes, I know it took me over four months but some nights I don't get to read. Well, most nights I don't get to read, not to mention it took me a good two hundred and fifty pages to even like the book. It was difficult to catch onto and I felt like the first half was a rehash of it's sequel, Practical Magic, with scant interest in the main characters (the aunts, Frannie and Jet (short for BRIDGET *screams*)) and their brother Vincent. Until their aunt dies and BOOM. The book comes to life and I cry and I sob and then more people die and it's so beautiful suddenly and it ends right where Practical Magic picks up which is a perfect place to stop and I don't know if I could be an Alice Hoffman fan or not. She weaves a good story, albeit with a massive slow build I wasn't expecting, and has moments of pure brilliance in her writing that take one's breath away but surrounding that is a mountain of lazy editing, in that the repetition, the detail doesn't hold my attention.

Will try a third one of hers, though, since I think it's me.

But up next is Nick Hornby's Juliet, Naked. I haven't been this excited about a book since Geek Love, honestly. It takes a lot to get me to go looking for a book. They usually find me. 

C8H11NO2

Until I get proof that you've taken it back.

I can't. I told you, it's bespoke.

Then sell it.

Bridget-

Sell it for parts. You can sell loose diamonds, have the metal melted back down, sell it by weight. There's a way. Stop being difficult.

He laughs. I'm being difficult.

Yes, you are. You know where we stand and it isn't at the place you've made in your head.

It isn't at the one you've made either. He isn't smiling anymore.

But mine wins.

Bridget, I don't play by their rules.

You don't have to play by their rules. You have to play by mine. Stop being all menacing and just take it back! JESUS. 

He laughs again. I love you when you're desperate and frustrated. You revert right back to that stubborn ten-year-old.

I grab my phone and walk out. I tried. Guess we're done. He did indeed wear me down. Just not in the way he thought he would.

Hyperextensibles.

Ben woke me out of sound sleep last night, pulling me away from Lochlan, up into his arms, pressing his face into the space between my ear and my shoulder, exhaling as he held me so tight he would have to breathe for both of us, because I couldn't any longer and that's what woke me up.

He put me down underneath him, pulling my arms up around his neck, forcing my legs around his hips, kissing me softly as he moved to become a part of me. I pulled myself up hard against him and I'm no longer touching the earth, just Ben. It's a memory come back to life. He's still here. He still breathes. He still reaches for me in the way I reach for him.

One arm pulls me up so hard I don't have any control anymore, before being pushed back down just as hard, pinned tightly underneath him. His eyes are huge in the dark but he doesn't say anything, he just wants to make sure I'm awake.

I nod without words. Who needs words? We don't.

An eternity later we're up, sitting together, limbs tangled, euphoria achieved. I'm afraid I might be hurt if I move. He won't let that happen. I lock my arms around his neck tightly to protect myself as he holds me up slightly, bringing me down just enough that he loses his grip on the night completely, sliding into the dark, taking me with him. He gets up and forces me back down on my face, pulling me up away from earth again. I feel Lochlan's hands take mine and he is there and no way. Not doing this. Ben puts his hand over my eyes, pulling my head back against his chest. No no no. I flail against Lochlan's arms but he presses his head against mine, just above Ben's hand.

We won't hurt you, he promises but I don't believe him. Instead I fight and Ben pulls me back, flipping me down onto my back, pinning my arms and legs.

It's fine. 

I shake my head. Lochlan smooths my bangs back, whispering shhhh against my temple. Headphones are put on me and I close my eyes and dive deep down into the music where they can't find me.

I feel myself pulled up into thin air and Lochlan is behind me now. They stroke my head, my face, my skin. Once the goosebumps go away, once I stop fighting, once I forget and go back to the music, all muscles relaxed, they take over and I let them.

I can't breathe. The music is so loud. We're moving but we're not moving. Lochlan's arms are locked around me so hard I feel like my ribs will break but it's also the least of my worries somehow.

The sensory overload kills me dead and I am resurrected all in the same night. If only it were this easy. If only this were easy. If only. Easy. If.