Struggle: Beautiful Series, book one

by Anderson, Lilliana

  A noisy sob bursts painfully from my chest as I cover my face with my hands. I can’t imagine ever feeling happy again.

  He leans in and brushes his lips against my hair and inhales. “Good bye, Trina,” he whispers.

  When I hear the front door click shut, my legs can’t hold me up anymore. I drop on the couch, crying through this pain, a pain so deep, so intense, I don’t think I’ll ever get over it. A year ago, Christopher broke my body. But David just destroyed my heart. Not even time can heal that.

  Twenty-Six

  “Here,” Mum says, offering me a folded up wash cloth. “Put this over your eyes. It’ll help with the swelling.”

  Taking the cold compress from her hands, I lie back on my bed and place it over my eyes, sending the room black. “Thanks, Mum.”

  She gives my forearm a squeeze then quietly leaves my room. When she got home late yesterday afternoon, she found me a snivelling mess in my pit of despair that seemed too enormous for me to climb out of. But she pulled me back up. Sat with me and listened to my broken sentences, my confused words while she made me tea and stroked my hair. What I appreciated most was that she didn’t offer me solutions. She just heard me out and told me I was the strongest person she’s ever known. “I expect you to keep fighting,” she said. Which is exactly what I plan to do.

  As soon as my face looks normal again. Why can’t I be a pretty crier?

  Blindly reaching over to my bedside table, I grab my phone with a plan to put on some calming music so I can meditate and get my mind thinking straight again.

  David and I are through. It hurts like a bitch, but we’ve been fighting on and off for the last couple of months. With our emotions clashing so much, there isn’t a hell of a lot for us to do besides call it quits. I always wanted him to give me the world, and he always called me that. I suppose in a way this is him delivering. His version of giving me the world is giving me my life back. But it’s a life that doesn’t have him in it.

  Just the thought brings a prickle to my eyes.

  I wish he could see himself for the man I’ve always known. He’s so much more than his father taught him he was, so much more than his own self-deprecating mind gives him credit for. I’m really going to miss him.

  But maybe this is for the best. If he can admit he loves me, but still can’t bring himself to fight for me then what is there left for us? Nothing.

  Before I get the chance to select my music, my phone lights up in my hand, vibrating along with Elliot’s ringtone.

  “Hello there, Evan,” I say, my voice sounding a little croaky as I put the handset near my ear.

  He chuckles. “I’m still in your phone as Evan?”

  I’m surprised when my lips manage to form a smile. “Sure are.”

  “I was calling to see how your race went. I looked up the results but couldn’t find your name.”

  “That’s because I didn’t get to race.”

  “Shit. What happened?”

  “Airport closure. The winds were too strong, and they grounded the planes.”

  “Are you serious? So, you didn’t even leave Sydney?”

  “Nope. Came right home and spent a depressive evening watching Netflix with Mum and Dad.” It’s not a complete lie. I simply leave out the part where David came to visit and ripped my heart out of my chest and crushed it in his bare hand.

  “I’m really sorry you missed your race, beautiful. I know how much you were looking forward to it. Although, I wish you’d called me. I could’ve made your night a lot less depressing.”

  I place my hand across my eyes, pressing the cool of the washcloth against my cry-sore eyelids. “I’ve no doubt. I think spending the night with you would have been a million times better. But I was exhausted yesterday. We waited at the airport for ages then I was so disappointed that all I wanted to do was zone out.”

  “What about tonight? Are you too tired to come and see me?”

  My heart starts beating faster, and I hesitate, unsure what to say to him. How do I explain my swollen eyes? How do I explain the fact that David kissed me yesterday, and I kissed him back? Do I even tell him that? I mean, if David and I are truly over, does Elliot need to know?

  I don’t know.

  “Don’t rush to answer,” he jokes with a slight laugh.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’ve just got myself in a bit of a funk.” Another truth. Is avoiding the details still lying?

  “All the more reason to come out with me. I’m meeting up with some friends at a nightclub tonight. You should come. We can drink too much and fuck each other’s brains out. You can’t be in a funk during a good fuck, Katrina.”

  A laugh bursts out of me. “You should make inspirational posters with doozeys like that.”

  “What I’m hearing is that I’ve inspired you. Does that mean you’re coming?”

  I sit up and pull the cloth from my face, looking in the mirror at my red eyes and puffy face. I suppose a good layer of makeup can cover that up. “Why not,” I concede with a smile. “Where should I meet you?”

  “I’ll text you the details,” he said, happiness in his words. “I can’t wait to see you.”

  “Me too,” I say as we disconnect, and I press my phone to my chest on a sigh. I think he’s the one guy you’ve dated who’s actually good enough for you.

  David’s words echo inside my head as I suck in a deep breath.

  He expects me to fall in love and be happy without him.

  Mum expects me to keep fighting.

  And I…I don’t know what I want. But I know I don’t want to keep being sad. I want to feel something.

  I want to be wanted.

  Elliot wants me.

  Pulling my desk chair out so I’m sitting directly in front of my mirror, I dig through my makeup bag and line up everything I think I’ll need. Then I pull up YouTube and search for tutorials on how to create the perfect smoky eye.

  You can’t be in a funk during a good fuck.

  “Be in the moment, Katrina. Elliot will make you happy,” I whisper to my reflection, forcing myself to believe it. No more crying over things I can’t have.

  * * *

  “Wow,” Elliot says, a massive grin on his face as he walks towards me when I exit the station. “You look gorgeous.”

  After spending all afternoon working on my makeup. I straightened my hair and put on my black dress covered with small red printed flowers. It has a fitted bodice and a loose flowing skirt that ends just above mid-thigh. I think it’s very feminine and great for showing off my legs. I’ve topped it off with a pair of red strappy heels and do a little twirl and curtsy in front of him.

  “You smell good too,” he says, taking me in his arms and kissing my neck. I like the soft brush of his stubble as it grazes my skin. When you’re happily married and have a couple of kids who are beautiful just like you, you’ll look back and think, ‘Thank fuck he left. He was only holding me back.’

  “You’re looking pretty gorgeous yourself,” I say, trying to force my mind quiet as I smooth my hands over his rock-hard chest. I inhale, filling my nose with his manly scent. I need this. He wants me.

  “This old thing,” he jokes. “I threw it on in the dark.” He’s wearing dark denim jeans that hug his arse and his package perfectly and an emerald green shirt, sleeves rolled up, showing off his delicious forearms. I can’t help but run my hands down his arms to feel the rise and fall of each muscle with my fingertips.

  “I think we had better get going before I take you in a dark corner and fuck you publicly,” he growls into my ear, causing excitement to bubble in my belly.

  “I wouldn’t stop you,” I whisper, nipping lightly on the soft part of his ear and I focus on the way his hands wander over my skin.

  I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep watching you self-destruct the way you do.

  “You’re bad.” He chuckles, his fingers pressing into the curve of my arse. “Where’s your purse?”

  “I don’t need one. My ID’s in
my bra along with my emergency money and ATM card.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “I’ll have to remember that later.”

  Taking my hand, Elliot leads me through the city streets, talking a little about work since I haven’t been there for a couple of weeks as well as telling me about his friends. “You’ll meet Gary and his girl, Stephanie. I’ve known them both since uni. They’re going to love you.”

  “I like that you’re so sure.”

  He squeezes my hand and flashes me his perfect smile. “What’s not to love?” He’s a good guy. I think he’s perfect for you.

  By the time we make it to the nightclub, I’ve lost track of where we are. We’ve wound our way between some buildings and now we’re heading past a crowded line waiting to get in a door with no sign.

  “Is this one of those cool clubs you only hear about?”

  He flashes me another grin. “That’s exactly what this is.”

  We walk to the front of the line, and Elliot speaks to the bouncer, shaking hands and sharing a joke before the bouncer unclips the barrier rope and allows us through.

  “Is there a special codeword you need to know to get through?” I ask.

  With a laugh, Elliot shakes his head. “I used to work security during my uni days. The bouncer and I know each other.”

  “Ah, you’re connected.”

  The music washes over us as we step through the doors after Elliot pays our cover charge, vibrating my body from my feet to my throat. I haven’t been to a nightclub since…

  I’ve already lost you. I’ve fucked us up without even giving us a chance.

  I blink twice, forcing myself back to the present where Elliot is looking at me like he’s expecting an answer.

  “Huh?”

  “I asked what you wanted to drink.”

  “Oh.” I don’t want my usual. Tonight is about change. It’s about leaving the past behind. I look up and meet his eyes. “Vodka and Red Bull.”

  He grins. “Someone doesn’t plan on sleeping tonight?”

  I hook a finger in the waist of his jeans and tug. “Want to keep me company?”

  “You know I do,” he says, cupping the back of my head and kissing me deeply, truly, thoroughly. He wants me. “How about you find us a table and I’ll get you that drink?” He nods over my shoulder to where there’s a lounge area with tables and plush-looking chairs.

  Despite the line outside, the inside isn’t crazy busy, so I settle into the soft orange bench and watch him from afar. I like the way he moves. He’s a man who’s comfortable in his own skin, but not cocky enough to let his looks go to his head.

  You can’t trust this because I don’t even trust my fucking self.

  I close my eyes, each remembered line a stabbing in the chest. That drink can’t get here fast enough.

  “Thank you,” I say, grabbing for my drink as Elliot slides onto the bench next to me, sucking it down without taking a breath.

  “Thirsty?” He laughs, and I place my hand against my face.

  “I’m sorry. Yes. I was really thirsty. I’ll get the next one.” I move to stand, but he holds onto my arm, gesturing to a couple who’ve joined our table without me realising. How embarrassing.

  “These are the friends I was telling you about,” Elliot says near my ear to be heard over the music. “Gary and Stephanie.”

  “We went to Uni together,” Gary yells across the table as we shake hands. He’s a decent-looking guy with close-cropped brown hair, around Elliot’s shoulder in height.

  “Nice to meet you,” Stephanie yells, leaning over to give me an overly familiar hug. She’s a small red-head who seems even younger than me. But if she was at uni with Elliot and Gary, I figure she’s the same age. “We’ve never met one of Elliot’s girlfriends before. You must be special.”

  I feel myself blush a little as I look between Stephanie and Elliot. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

  Elliot slides his arm around me, kissing my shoulder. “She’s very special,” he confirms, and I have to fight the unwanted tears from springing to my eyes. I can’t be the man you need, Trina. I never could.

  I run a light finger along Elliot’s stubbled jaw. He wants me.

  “How did you two meet?” Stephanie asks, cutting into our moment.

  “We work together,” I supply as Elliot tells me he’ll grab me another drink and heads back to the bar with Gary.

  “Really?” Stephanie places her chin on her hand as she leans on the table. “I thought dating was a big no-no at work?”

  “Has he wanted to date a colleague before me?” My jealous instinct rears up.

  She laughs and shakes her head. “No, I just remember him mentioning it when he started. Gary thought it was a crappy policy. He and I met through work.”

  “I thought you met through uni?”

  “That’s how I met Elliot. Gary and I worked in the same restaurant. Turned out we went to the same uni too. We met up a few times between class, and he’d drive me home after work.” She remembers their beginning with a sweet smile. “Anyway, that’s when I met Elliot too. They were in their final year. I was first year. I felt pretty cool hanging around with a couple of would-be lawyers.”

  “How’s Gary liking his first year in the field?”

  “Oh, Gary’s happy and settled with his firm. It’s a little boutique place in North Sydney focusing on corporate. Nowhere near as big as Turner, Barlow, Smith. But Elliot always had big goals. He’s got big footprints to follow.”

  “I heard his dad expects him to become a barrister.”

  She lifts her eyebrows. “He wants him to become a judge. That’s why he’s working where he is. One of the partners has the ear of the Attorney General. If Elliot plays ball, he’ll be on the fast track once he’s transferred to Chambers.”

  I frown. “Sounds like a lot of back scratching is going on.”

  She shrugs. “When you’re the only son and there’s a family legacy to uphold, you do what you gotta do.”

  “Too bad if you hated law,” I say, testing to see what she knows.

  She seems unfazed. “Elliot’s a natural. Valedictorian. He’ll blow everyone away.” If Ken ever lets him out of the office. I keep that thought to myself, not sure if Elliot has discussed his unhappiness over work with his friends.

  I glance up, spotting Elliot and Gary approaching with more drinks. They have that easy camaraderie that comes from being long-time friends, talking close and laughing together. They stop and chat with a group of three guys and two girls. It’s a flurry of hand clapping, shoulder slapping and cheek kissing. One girl lingers with her hand on Elliot’s chest, and I feel the beginnings of a pang of jealousy developing in the pit of my stomach. But when Elliot steps back and points over to us, an intimate grin curving his mouth when he meets my eyes, my worries die and my heart swells. Elliot wants me.

  “There are going to be a lot of girls around here who are pissed you snagged him,” Stephanie says, watching the same thing I am.

  I roll my eyes and laugh. “Is there anywhere that doesn’t have girls crushing on Elliot?”

  She laughs along with me and shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  With a shrug, I give her a look that says, ‘well there you go’.

  Elliot and Gary return with the drinks and their friends, and Elliot brings me to his side, introducing me to the group. I only catch the name of a blond guy called Michael, and a dark-haired guy with a tattooed arm called Brad. The rest gets lost in the club's noise. Regardless, I nod hello and shake hands, smiling politely to each of them. The girl who was clinging to Elliot gives me a fake-bright smile and shakes my hand weakly. Sorry, sweetheart. He’s mine now, my eyes smile and say in return.

  “These are your friends, huh?” I ask Elliot, sipping on my new drink as one of the guys announces he’s buying shots and takes off for the bar.

  Elliot smiles after him before returning his attention to me. “Are they too much?”

  “Not at all.
I like it.”

  “They’re a cool bunch. I’ve known most since school—Brad, I know from the kayaking club—and a couple are from my security days.”

  “So popular. They must know Evan more than Elliot.”

  He chuckles. “Well, he is the fun one.” Pulling my chin towards him, he kisses me softly.

  “Yeah. But Elliot is the sexy one,” I say, smiling up at him, feeling decidedly smitten.

  Goodbye, Trina.

  Elliot kisses me harder, more intensely. It goes a long way towards pushing the hurt from losing David away and showing me the path forward. David was right, we were only hurting each other.

  “Tequila!” A cheer erupts at our tables as Michael places a tray in the centre of the table, laden with shot glasses, a bowl full of lemon wedges and sachets of salt.

  “All right, everyone. Lick your hands and hold them out,” he bellows over the music, shaking salt on the back of our hands between our thumb and index fingers. One of the girls hands out the lemon wedges, and Brad hands out the tequila shots.

  We hold them aloft as Michael calls out, “Ready? Go!”

  In synchronised movement, we lick the salt, knock back the tequila and suck on the lemon, dropping the rind back on the tray as we all make noises about how much the alcohol burns on its way down our throats.

  “I swear that stuff removes your nose hairs!” Stephanie yells.

  I nod in agreement. I feel as though my own sinuses are much clearer after that shot.

  “Round two!” Some other guy calls as he comes over with a new loaded tray. He’s new to me, but the group seems pleased with his arrival.

  “Holy shit!” I laugh as I hold out my hand for the salt, the process beginning again. I’m already feeling the alcohol all the way down to my feet.

  “You don’t have to do them if you don’t want to,” Elliot assures me.

  “It’s OK. I'll be fine.”