Nine Years: A novel (Beneath the Clouds Book 1)

by Jessica Leed

  She was only young when she first met Patrick, a skinny blonde with legs for days. It was her twenty-first birthday and she had been out for dinner with a group of her closest girlfriends. He had been a waiter back then, working part time whilst completing his business degree. She couldn’t remember who noticed who first, but she did remember that their chemistry was instant. He was not only easy on the eyes with his chiseled jaw line and piercing blue eyes, but a gentleman too.

  Throughout the course of the night he hovered around their table, offering to pour what must have been ten glasses of wine in the space of an hour. He had ignored the fact that each time their glasses were more than half full, but Sienna liked the attention so much and hadn’t minded in the slightest.

  ‘That guy is keeeeeeen,’ her best friend Jacqueline said, smirking every time his eyes darted back towards them.

  They really did lock on Sienna like a spell.

  She had waved off her friend’s remark casually. ‘Nah, not a chance. He’s just polite and efficient at his job. In fact,’—she reached into her purse—‘I think he deserves a tip girls, what do you think?’

  They had all laughed. This wasn’t the United States of America. A tip was hardly necessary. At this stage Patrick had lingered around their table yet again with another wine bottle in his hands. Her friends had looked on in with anticipation at what crazy remark would fly from her lips. She was witty like that. Or at least had been back then.

  She had spiritedly tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she built up the courage to look at the beautiful man in the eyes for the first time. Oh, how her heart swelled as butterflies spasmed in her abdomen when their eyes finally locked. She cleared her throat. ‘So Mr… um, waiter, Sir. On behalf of my girlfriends and myself, we would like to formally extend a token of our appreciation for your outstanding service tonight.’

  The girls burst into laughter at the formality of her approach. With slightly quivering hands, she handed a twenty-dollar note towards the tall handsome man that stood beaming over her.

  ‘Why thank you, Miss. Although regretfully, I have to decline your generous gesture.’ He was smirking as he placed his hand over hers, sending the money back into her palm, and closed it.

  Sienna bit her bottom lip and frowned, pretending to be offended. ‘You should never deny a woman who’s kindly extending her token of appreciation, sir.’

  Patrick titled his head with a mesmerised look on his face, unable to whip the smile from his face.

  Some would have found the level of smitten comical.

  ‘I can do one better.’ That was when he reached into his pocket and took out a piece of paper from his note pad and scribbled something down on it.

  Her eyes glanced down and there it was, his name and mobile number. She was impressed at his boldness.

  ‘What about this? What would you say if I were to ask you out one evening where you can enjoy a beautiful meal without a bothersome waiter harassing you every ten seconds?’ His crystal blue eyes captivated her, sending her stomach into a collection of knots.

  She had admired his confidence. And those high cheek bones and perfect face. No way she could have said no. She would have been crazy to.

  So, she didn’t.

  One date soon turned into another and before long, they were inseparable. She clearly remembered the first time he told her that he loved her. It had come just shy of their two-month anniversary. They had been sitting in a park on a warm summer’s day with a bag of skittles, grouping the colours as they often did with any packet of candy. He began to fiddle with them arranging them into patterns as she had run down to the Mr Whippy truck. When she returned with two chocolate coated ice-creams, she discovered that he had arranged the skittles into the three beautiful words every human soul longed to hear. She remembered staring at them for a while, wondering and hoping that she was reading them correctly before he took her hands in his, and squeezed them.

  ‘I love you Sienna Henderson, more than anything.’ He kissed her then. A tender, passionate kiss that confirmed all that he felt for her.

  ‘I love you too, Patrick Daley.’

  The months carried on in a blur after that. They had laughed often, vowing to never be one of those boring couples.

  And they weren’t.

  Their friends and family could barely keep up with them. Their relationship was colourful, filled with the type of adventures people would be lucky to experience in a life time.

  ‘I’m going to marry you one day, you know that?’ he said as they reached the top of Mount Murdock after a strenuous and sweaty bike ride to the top.

  It was like something from a movie the way he had whispered it in her ear as the sun set around them in golden tones. She had used the last of her energy to jump up and wrap her legs around him.

  They were engaged not long after that, at the tender age of twenty-two. On their one-year anniversary on a still summer’s night, Patrick had set an array of tea light candles along their favourite beach on the Morning Peninsula. Hand in hand, he had guided her through the sand dunes that led to a heart, outlined by red petals where the ultimate question was presented in giant letters in the sand. She remembered the whirlwind of emotions that overcame her as he knelt down on one knee. Dizziness, anticipation and sheer excitement, all mixed in one. It all seemed to have taken place in slow motion, exactly the way she wanted it to carry out. She had wanted the moment to last forever if it could.

  But it didn’t.

  And neither had all the wonderful feelings she had felt that night. If only she knew how much would change. How much he would change.

  Because now, she no longer recognised the man she fell in love with.

  Two

  It was almost midnight by the time she returned home.

  She unlocked her phone as she stepped from her car, checking to see if he had responded to any of the messages she had left throughout the day.

  There were none.

  An apology would have been nice for not getting out of bed when he had committed to going, but who was she kidding to think she would get one?

  She dragged her feet up the single flight of stairs to their apartment, slowing as she neared the door. As she fiddled with the keys she felt a familiar unease make its way to the pit of her stomach. It was a feeling that overruled any inkling of happiness she felt just hours ago. The afternoon had served as an escape in that way. Nothing really compared to the unfailing love a family could bring, and its way of making every problem just drift away.

  Even if she did feel miles away from her own family.

  She turned the key and returned to her reality.

  Through the reflection in the mirror and the light that luminated from the TV, she spotted him sprawled out on the couch. He appeared to be fast asleep, not flinching in the slightest.

  Tiptoeing into the kitchen, a frustration took root at the sight of the pile of dirty dishes stacked up in the sink. A pet hate of hers. One he was well and truly aware of, having caused far too many arguments to count. She took a deep breath and let it pass. She slipped off her shoes and quietly made her way down the hall to the bedroom.

  ‘S, is that you?’ came a muffled murmur from the lounge room.

  She managed a stiff smile and tip toed back up and took a seat on the edge of the couch beside her man. ‘I didn’t wake you, did I?’ She gently reached out her hand to stroke his sandy blonde hair.

  He took hold of it and sent it back to her lap.

  ‘Sorry,’ she whispered, staring down at her hands that longed to be held.

  He prompted himself up on his elbows and yawned. ‘How was the birthday thing?’ He was on his phone now, refreshing his Instagram.

  ‘Yeah, it was really nice.’ She sank down next to him and hugged her legs to her chest, keeping her eyes on his even though his hadn’t met hers once. ‘Everyone missed you toda
y. They were asking about you.’ She paused, ‘Anyway, I’ve brought back some cake.’

  ‘Nice.’ He was still scrolling through his phone as though he couldn’t care less. ‘Did you tell them I’m sorry I couldn’t be there?’

  The frustration was back.

  ‘I didn’t tell them that you were hung over, if that’s what you mean.’ She knew her words were sharp, but in that moment, she didn’t care.

  He looked up at her, his eyes quickly filling with anger. ‘Don’t even think about using that tone with me,’ he hissed.

  She inhaled a defeated breath. ‘Sorry, I guess I just really wanted you there with me today. It’s been a long time since we’ve been all together.’ She didn’t dare look at him. With teary eyes, she flickered her eyes around the room taking in the cans of beer scattered across the coffee table. So much for being hungover. He was probably still drunk. She has no doubt he had been drinking all day.

  Yet again.

  ‘I don’t like seeing you like this,’ she whispered as she studied the room.

  He stood up and abruptly extended the remote towards the TV, sending the room into complete darkness. ‘I’m really not in the mood to be doing this again with you,’ he said coldly. He stood to his feet, leaving her in the dark looking helplessly back at him.

  For every second she sat there, she felt her heart grow heavier, starving for affection from the man who once gave it to her so freely. She switched the lamp on beside her and slowly peeled herself off the couch. Ignoring the tears that had made their way down her face, she began cleaning up the mess, one can at a time.

  Patrick never used to be a big drinker. His addiction to alcohol was like a disease, destroying him slowly one day at a time. When Charlie was killed in a car accident, he not only lost his friend, but seemed to have lost his entire purpose for living. The day they lost Charlie marked the beginning where everything took a turn for the worst. A tragedy in which to this day Patrick still hadn’t worked through, their strained relationship being a daily reminder of that. But she couldn’t blame the loss of his friend for the turmoil of their relationship.

  That wouldn’t be fair.

  The truth was, red flags had presented themselves far back, shortly after their engagement years ago. When Patrick began his new job at Cortex Consulting, he had made it very clear that his new manager position would be his first priority—and that was exactly what happened. For months, she watched him strive with a tunneled focus on his career, pursuing her less and less. Soon the adventures, the spontaneous dates, the laughter and joy that once coloured their relationship, became a shadow of the past.

  And just like that, Patrick began to change.

  After she completed her degree and went through the rounds of grueling interviews, she was accepted to teach a grade three class at Kings Cross College; A competitive private school she had been extremely fortunate to have landed a job at. In the beginning he had been supportive, helping her with the constant laminating and marking, even offering his creative insight with her classroom displays. But soon he became ‘too busy’ or ‘too tired’ on the evenings that saw her up late, drowning in work. The man who had once been her rock and unfailing support, no longer saw her as a priority.

  Through the stress of a new job and feelings of abandonment, she had still tried to do everything she could to bring the spark back into their relationship. She booked countless dinner and movie dates and purchased the latest gaming consoles even if it meant that he never left the study as he locked himself away for hours to play them. She spent many evenings slaving it out in the kitchen, preparing all his favourite meals just so they could sit down together for ten minutes without a sulk on his face. She even organised day trips to spa resorts, mini golf courses and escape rooms, encouraging them to find a hobby together. But every thoughtful gesture only seemed to push him away even more.

  ‘I don’t need you to keep guilt tripping me, Sienna.’

  Clearly her efforts had been taken in a different light.

  ‘I just want to feel like us again.’

  ‘Well, that’s not going to happen if you’re going to keep forcing things,’ he snapped.

  It had all been for nothing.

  It was only a short time after when the call came through. A year after they were engaged.

  She remembered it as though it was yesterday. He had been hiding out in the study as usual whilst she had been at the kitchen table buried in papers when the frightening sound of his fists slammed onto the table. The sound had startled her but it wasn’t until she heard the hysteric wailing where the blood drained from her body. She found him curled over his desk, face buried in his hands, his body trembling violently. It had scared the life out of her. She had wrapped her arms around him, dragging him off the chair and into her lap onto floor. He had aggressively shaken her off then, fighting to free himself from her embrace before he scrabbled himself into a huddle tight against the wall. They sat there in separate corners for what felt like an eternity as she spoke whatever comforting words she could find over him. The more she tried to comfort him, the more hostile he became, demanding her to leave the room. Failing to be strong for him she burst into tears, pained from rejection, longing more than anything to hold the man she loved.

  It was more than her heart could bear.

  The boys had been good friends since high school, having played soccer in the same league for over eight years. Their parents had been close friends growing up, even having holidayed together on occasion. Years of memories they thought they had only scratched the surface of. All it took was a single moment for a promising future to cease as his life was taken so abruptly.

  A pedestrian car accident. Witnesses said he had run out onto the road in the middle of a major intersection. A couple of seconds was all it took for a car to come racing around the corner, swallowing him underneath.

  He never made it to work that morning.

  Patrick had taken it hard. It took two weeks before he even contemplated leaving the house. Despite her own grief over the inconsolable loss, she had done everything she could to look after him. Calling his work those countless mornings where he refused to get out of bed, compiling a lunch box of all his favourite things before she left for work every day to make sure he would eat. But he was motionless, angry, showing no sign of gratitude for any of it.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re trying to do but I don’t need you looking after me like I’m a child,’ he said coldly.

  Did he even realise that she too, was affected by the tragedy?

  But someone had to hold it all together and that person would be her.

  ‘I love you.’ The tears brimmed her eyes had begun to feel familiar to her. ‘I’ll do everything I can for us to get through this difficult season Patrick, I have always promised you that.’

  ‘Right.’ He hadn’t met her eyes. ‘I don’t need you feeling sorry for me all the time, it’s that bloody obvious. I’m a big boy, I can look after myself.’

  It was a side to him that had never come to light, until then.

  Alcohol had become an escape mechanism, a stronghold over his daily existence. He would often drink himself to sleep, numbing the pain he neglected to confront. She would dread coming home in those first few weeks to find him in the same curled position on the couch with empty beer cans scattered around the living room. She never knew what state she would find him in each day she walked through that door, his emotions unpredictable. Sometimes he would be so drunk he would be happy to see her, buzzing with a fabricated energy before anger would take hold of him if she didn’t respond with the same liveliness. It was like walking on egg shells. She couldn’t do anything right.

  ‘Why aren’t you happy to see me? Don’t you love me anymore?’ He would ridicule her if she left his side for even a second, quickly becoming agitated at the way he began to emotionally manipulate her.

  May
be what frustrated her most wasn’t his inconsistency, but rather her inability to find a strength to stand up to herself during these times. Was she scared? No, not really. She knew he would never hurt her. Well, not physically anyway. She wasn’t sure why she never had the courage to tell him that a change needed to be made. Maybe she was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to. Or maybe she was afraid they would never be able to find their way back if the words were spoken aloud.

  The weather couldn’t have been more unkind.

  Her body rippled in shivers as she zipped her training jacket all the way to her chin and placed the hood over her wet, matted hair. She was soaked through. Her socks were drenched inside her shoes and her top kept clinging to her bra. Despite looking like a drowned rat, she was determined to hold a positive attitude for her grade three students who were about to run the eight hundred metre relay.

  It was the school’s annual athletics day and although the forecast made it clear the day should without doubt, be a write off, Damian was determined for it to still go ahead as planned.

  ‘A bit of rain won’t hurt anyone.’ He laughed as he waffled on about the importance of carrying on through all conditions.

  She had no problem tolerating the crappy weather, it was the beauty beneath those dreary clouds she was dying to see. And it was only a matter of time until her and Patrick would.

  It was on the ever-growing bucket list.

  So here they all were, a chilly fourteen degrees with heavy downpours slamming the track and field every ten minutes or so, delaying the events of the day with the constant stop starts.

  ‘Do I have to run this, Miss Henderson?’ Nolan Livingston’s dark brown eyes flared with concern through his thick glasses as he watched his peers position themselves at the starting line.