Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > You Make Me Live
I Gave Up Trying To Think Of A Chapter Title
1 reviewShort little chapter, but sad. The whole flipping story’s sad, but I couldn’t think of another adjective… Fine, this chapter will crush your soul with its sorrow. OK?
0Unrated
Ashlee was just clearing the dinner plates away when the doorbell rang. Setting them down gently, she looked round, checking her husband wasn’t nearby, and went to answer the door. Patrick stood there, and they exchanged awkward greetings and smiles as she let him in, Hemingway obscuring the door slightly as he tried to jump up and steal Patrick’s hat as per usual.
On the way over Patrick had had a lot of time to think things through. That morning he had made a plan to go over to Pete’s house, to collect all the things that had ended up there over the years: various shirts, CDs, the grey hat Pete had taken to stealing every chance he could. While he was there he would decide whether or not to talk to him.
He followed Ashlee through to the lounge, where his things had been carefully hidden from sight behind the sofa.
‘Thanks, Ash. Sorry to bother you so late, it’s been a busy day.’
‘No problem. Do you wanna stay for a coffee or something?’
Patrick glanced round. ‘Uh… I’d better not, thanks.’
She sighed, and motioned Patrick to follow her.
‘What? Where are we going?’
They silently climbed the stairs, turned a corner and stopped outside the spare bedroom, listening in. ‘Chicago Is So Two Years Ago’ drifted out from under the door.
‘You just peek through that keyhole. This is what he does most evenings. He says he’s busy working on things, but… he’s not fooling anyone. Even the dogs have noticed.’
Pete was lying back against the headboard with several photo albums in his lap. Every now and again he’d smile or give a small sniff as he turned the pages slowly and carefully, as if they were precious documents.
You want apologies?
Girl, you might hold your breath
Until your breathing stops forever, forever
The only thing you’ll get is this curse on your lips
I hope they taste of me forever
And there’s a light on in Chicago
And I know I should be home…
Suddenly he looked away and wiped his eyes in frustration, grabbing hold of something and hugging it to him. It was an old forgotten shirt of Patrick’s.
Patrick gulped. Part of him wanted to go in and hug Pete, wipe his eyes with his shirt and tell him everything was forgiven.
‘You’ll let him keep that one shirt, won’t you? It would mean a lot. It makes him that little bit happier.’
But then there was the bigger part of him that was still furious. Ashlee had a cheating, lying husband, and here she was, trying to do everything in her power to make him feel better. It was selfless love, and he didn’t deserve it. Not from Ashlee, and not from him. Patrick decided, right then and there, that he would leave the house and not come back, not unless absolutely necessary.
As he stepped back outside with his stuff he turned to face Ashlee. Bronx was whimpering in the background, and even Hemingway and Rigby were lying sullenly on the floor, heads resting on paws, feeling the strain in the air.
‘Tell Pete… tell him I said no.’
‘No? No to what?’
‘Just… just no. He’ll understand.’
She bit her lip. ‘You’re really not coming back?’
‘No.’
‘Well…’ she sighed, ‘I guess I’ll see you around, then. Bye, Patrick.’
He walked down the steps and disappeared round the corner as the heavy sky suddenly clapped with thunder.
********************************
‘He said no? Seriously?’
‘I’m afraid so, sweetie.’
Pete looked at the floor, slightly in shock. Not even the letter had worked. Now he really had to accept that things had changed. He had to start moving on... but he still didn’t know how to. He covered his face with his hands despairingly.
‘I always thought he’d be there,’ he mumbled through his fingers. ‘He promised me he would be… he said he’d never leave me... but it’s all over. That’s it. He’s gone, Ash. Gone for good. What am I gonna do without him?’
On the way over Patrick had had a lot of time to think things through. That morning he had made a plan to go over to Pete’s house, to collect all the things that had ended up there over the years: various shirts, CDs, the grey hat Pete had taken to stealing every chance he could. While he was there he would decide whether or not to talk to him.
He followed Ashlee through to the lounge, where his things had been carefully hidden from sight behind the sofa.
‘Thanks, Ash. Sorry to bother you so late, it’s been a busy day.’
‘No problem. Do you wanna stay for a coffee or something?’
Patrick glanced round. ‘Uh… I’d better not, thanks.’
She sighed, and motioned Patrick to follow her.
‘What? Where are we going?’
They silently climbed the stairs, turned a corner and stopped outside the spare bedroom, listening in. ‘Chicago Is So Two Years Ago’ drifted out from under the door.
‘You just peek through that keyhole. This is what he does most evenings. He says he’s busy working on things, but… he’s not fooling anyone. Even the dogs have noticed.’
Pete was lying back against the headboard with several photo albums in his lap. Every now and again he’d smile or give a small sniff as he turned the pages slowly and carefully, as if they were precious documents.
You want apologies?
Girl, you might hold your breath
Until your breathing stops forever, forever
The only thing you’ll get is this curse on your lips
I hope they taste of me forever
And there’s a light on in Chicago
And I know I should be home…
Suddenly he looked away and wiped his eyes in frustration, grabbing hold of something and hugging it to him. It was an old forgotten shirt of Patrick’s.
Patrick gulped. Part of him wanted to go in and hug Pete, wipe his eyes with his shirt and tell him everything was forgiven.
‘You’ll let him keep that one shirt, won’t you? It would mean a lot. It makes him that little bit happier.’
But then there was the bigger part of him that was still furious. Ashlee had a cheating, lying husband, and here she was, trying to do everything in her power to make him feel better. It was selfless love, and he didn’t deserve it. Not from Ashlee, and not from him. Patrick decided, right then and there, that he would leave the house and not come back, not unless absolutely necessary.
As he stepped back outside with his stuff he turned to face Ashlee. Bronx was whimpering in the background, and even Hemingway and Rigby were lying sullenly on the floor, heads resting on paws, feeling the strain in the air.
‘Tell Pete… tell him I said no.’
‘No? No to what?’
‘Just… just no. He’ll understand.’
She bit her lip. ‘You’re really not coming back?’
‘No.’
‘Well…’ she sighed, ‘I guess I’ll see you around, then. Bye, Patrick.’
He walked down the steps and disappeared round the corner as the heavy sky suddenly clapped with thunder.
********************************
‘He said no? Seriously?’
‘I’m afraid so, sweetie.’
Pete looked at the floor, slightly in shock. Not even the letter had worked. Now he really had to accept that things had changed. He had to start moving on... but he still didn’t know how to. He covered his face with his hands despairingly.
‘I always thought he’d be there,’ he mumbled through his fingers. ‘He promised me he would be… he said he’d never leave me... but it’s all over. That’s it. He’s gone, Ash. Gone for good. What am I gonna do without him?’
Sign up to rate and review this story