Losing Love (What Will Be Book Series)

by Laura Ashley Gallagher

  I swear my entire face went on fire.

  “That’s okay,” I stuttered, almost stumbling backward. “This is for family. I can take Ava if it’s too much for her?”

  He squeezed my forearm. “You are family, love.” And with that, they took their places in the front row.

  My eyes stung with the will to cry, but I wouldn’t let myself. Instead, a tight smile curled on my lips. It didn’t feel right, though. I couldn’t do it to Alex. He didn’t need to feel uncomfortable at his sister’s funeral.

  I ignored the curious glares from strangers, kissed Ava’s hand, and whispered, “It’s okay. I’m going to…”

  Words stopped falling out of my mouth when I felt heat on the small of my back, and his hand pressed gently through the fabric of my blouse. As if reading my thoughts, he said, “Lydia would have wanted you here for Ava.” He blinked slowly. And again. “We all want you here.”

  No more words were necessary. I shook my head and sat down. Alex followed, and with the side of his body against mine, he rested Ava on his knee.

  Midway through, she shuffled onto my lap and rested her head against my chest. All the while, she kept a tight grip on Alex’s hand. She fell asleep there, even through the singing and the booming voice of the priest. I stayed still, with my face buried in her hair, even as people stood and kneeled. Nothing was going to move me or make me disturb little sleeping beauty.

  Selfishly, I was glad she slept through it. She didn’t need to remember this part. She said her goodbyes to her mama when it mattered. That was enough.

  After the mass, when people gathered outside the church before going to the burial, the rain stopped, and the sun broke through the clouds. I like to think it was Lydia. Though, with her sense of humour, she would have rained down on us all.

  But not Ava.

  Not her pride and joy.

  Ava woke as we were leaving the church and she clung to Alex’s black coat like she could keep him planted on the ground. When he swooped her up in his arms and spun her around, she giggled. Everyone laughed, and my heart became a little lighter.

  “How are you holding up?” Claire asked as we stood together in our small huddle.

  What could I say? I wasn’t sick. I wasn’t dying. I was here, but my little girl was only feet away, hurting like no child should, and I couldn’t take the pain away.

  I shrugged. “I’ll be fine.” It was all I could say. “Thanks for coming today.”

  Her eyes became a little wider, and her head tilted forward: her signal someone was coming this way. I felt a firm squeeze of my shoulder, and when I spun around, something trapped me in familiar blue eyes. I forgot how tall he was when he stood so close.

  Even then, in the middle of a funeral, my heart pounded against my chest.

  I needed to get a grip.

  He swallowed. Hard. I didn’t know if being around me was that difficult or if I made him want to puke. Ava’s arms were still wrapped around his neck for dear life, and she was already falling back to sleep.

  “Can you take Ava home with you? It’s going to rain again, and I don’t want her getting sick. It’s best if she goes home and gets some rest.”

  “Of course.” Whatever she needed.

  I reminded myself to breathe and took a sidestep around him to check her. Flushed cheeks, bear in one hand, the other gripping Alex’s jacket, closed lids and even breathing. She was out for the count. Poor thing.

  “Here.” Garry shuffled forward, reaching out his arms. “I’ll take her, Alex.”

  She slid out of Alex’s arms without a peep.

  “We’ll get her into the car.”

  Claire gave me a reassuring one-arm hug before walking away with Garry and Sally.

  “Tell your family I’m thinking of them.” It was pathetic, but it’s all I could give them. “You should get going, and I better get to Ava before she wakes again.”

  A dip of his chin and, “Thank you, Mandy,” set my skin on fire, but only with the need to comfort him.

  Inside his massive strong chest, there was a heart breaking. No tears, but I could tell all the same. He’d lost his sister; one of the most important people in his life. He became Ava’s sole guardian overnight. The latter, I knew he’d be great at, but it’s different when you have someone guiding you.

  My fingers twitched, and without thinking, or having the time to stop myself, I threw my arms around his neck. When he didn’t push me away, I sank into him and fought with the knot in my chest when both his hands went to my back, pressing me closer.

  My Alex.

  Only he wasn’t.

  Not anymore.

  Though it only lasted the briefest of moments, I hoped it brought him some relief from what must have been agony.

  His eyes glanced over my shoulder, toward my car. “I’ll come and get her later.”

  “You know where I am.”

  Shoulders tensed, and with the tightest of smiles, he turned and walked away, like all the times before.

  That was two months ago, and Ava has continued to stay with me a few nights a week. It’s heartbreaking to watch her deal with the unbearable loss of her mama. She gets upset, lashes out, becomes frustrated. Then she giggles and acts totally normal. But behind her coffee-coloured eyes, there are moments of such overwhelming pain, and no matter what I do, I can’t make her feel better. I hug her, comfort her, play with her. I do whatever she wants, but it’s not enough.

  Yes, I’m her mother, but I’m not the woman who held her since the day she was born.

  I’m still learning.

  She doesn’t like her hair stroked when she’s upset. I don’t always know what cuddly toy she prefers to go to bed with because it changes every night, depending on her mood. What I know: I’m determined to find out. I want to know everything about her. I need to prove to her I’m not going anywhere.

  “Mommy Mandy.” I hear her small voice before I see her standing in the doorway of my bedroom. My room is dark, so I only see her silhouette. Her curls stick out in crazy angles and she clutches at her cuddly elephant—the good mood toy. “Can I sleep with you?” She yawns, already crawling under the blankets.

  “Of course.” I pull back the duvet and she cuddles into my side.

  “I had a nightmare that I fell out of a rollercoaster.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek to smother the laugh.

  She had a party for her birthday, but it was too soon after Lydia died, and her absence was felt more that day than any other. A happy day filled with sadness, and we couldn’t escape it. So, she’s leaving for a trip tomorrow with Owen, Charlotte, and their two boys. They’re going to a theme park. It will be good for her to spend time with kids her own age.

  “You will not fall out of the rollercoaster, Ava. And you don’t have to go on if you don’t want to. You know that.” I rub her arm.

  “And… And.” The tiniest of sobs bubbles in her chest.

  I sit up frantically, pulling her onto my lap. “Oh, Ava. What is it, sweetheart?”

  “I miss… I miss…”

  I’m holding my breath and mentally preparing how I’ll comfort her through this.

  “I miss Alex. I didn’t call him today.”

  I close my eyes and a single tear leaks from the corner of my eye. I expected her to say she misses her mama. But she’s right. We didn’t call Alex today, because she was up with nightmares again last night, and she fell asleep early on the couch before I carried her to bed.

  Alex is picking her up tomorrow before she goes on her trip, but if speaking to him makes her feel better, so be it.

  “I’ll text him and see if he’s still awake.”

  “Okay,” she trails off into a hiccup.

  I sit up, switch on the bedside lamp, and Ava rests her head on my chest

  Me: Hey. Are you awake? Ava’s having a tough time sleeping and wants to say goodnight.

  I don’t receive a reply. Instead, my phone buzzes with an incoming video message, and like an idiot, I run my fi
ngers through my hair.

  He’s not calling for me.

  Idiot.

  Ava’s face lights up as bright as the screen. “You know what to do, little lady.”

  She squirms with excitement and grabs the phone. “Alex,” she sings, swaying side to side. “I miss you.”

  “Hey, princess. I miss you too.”

  “Can you come over?”

  “Ava,” I exclaim, more than a little shocked. It’s out of my mouth before I have a chance to think about it. I try to collect myself. “It’s late. Alex is tired.”

  “He’s awake. Look.” She turns the phone so I’m staring straight at him, and it takes all my effort not to slide down under the covers. I’m suddenly all too aware of my strappy top, and how my hair is a messy knot on top of my head.

  “Hi,” I breathe, hating how hot my face has gotten.

  “Hi. I’m coming over.”

  My mouth goes dry, and my voice gets lost somewhere.

  He’s doing what?

  Alex has succeeded in never being in my presence for longer than five minutes. Other than discussing arrangements for Ava, he doesn’t stay around. And mostly, someone else picks her up because he’s working. We’ve spoken words, but we’ve hardly talked to each other in months. I mean, properly talked to each other. And now he wants to walk into my house and do what, exactly?

  But when I look down at thick batting eyelashes and a bottom lip jutting out more than it should, I know I’ve already lost this battle. It’s no wonder Alex caved so easily.

  He must see the resigned look on my face because a slow smirk pulls on his lips. “Take it from me. Don’t argue with her. She always wins. See you in thirty minutes.”

  By the time the doorbell rings, Ava is bouncing on my bed with anticipation. So much for sleep. She’s wired to the moon.

  I don’t know why I’m shaking when I open the door, or why my pulse becomes erratic. Maybe it’s the sight of him at my door in his white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. God, I hate how this man can pull off everything.

  “I had to bring this guy.” He opens his palms and points to the furball circling around my legs.

  At the sight of his panting tongue, I can’t contain my excitement. “Bandit. I missed you.” I crouch down and kiss his head, but he’s already running away from me in search of Ava’s voice.

  Her scream is ear piercing. I stand back from the door and look up at Alex. I forgot what it was like to see that amused grin on his face.

  “Come in. I think someone is looking forward to seeing you.”

  When he steps inside, a familiar zing echoes in my chest and his presence fills my home. Head towards his shoulders to look down at me, the same smug smirk plays on his face. “Nice robe.”

  My entire face is burning.

  Is he being playful with me?

  Either way, I grab onto it.

  “I decided after the last time you showed up, I needed to invest in something with less risk of exposing myself.” I giggle nervously, something knotting below my ribcage.

  “I liked the other one.” And he walks away.

  What was that?

  Mentally chastising myself and coming out of momentary shock, I close my mouth and follow him.

  Ava bounces from the bed and into his arms, and at the sight of him, she becomes lighter. Her face is bright. There’s no more sadness in her eyes.

  Ava has houses with me and Alex, but he’s her home. I see it every time they’re together.

  “It’s past your bedtime, young lady.”

  “Can we watch a movie to fall asleep to?” she asks quietly. She’s doing it again. Fluttering eyelashes, and an exaggerated pout. I swear she has magic powers.

  He’s apprehensive when he looks at me, seeking permission without asking.

  I shrug. “If it helps her sleep,” I agree, but inside, everything is twisting. Having him here like this is too much. But this is what I wanted, isn’t it? Normal. For us to get on with things.

  Then why is the sight of him still making my throat burn?

  As if reading my mind, he puts Ava back on the bed, tucks her under the blanket, and kisses her head. He glances at me, his features pained, and I think it’s the look he used to give when he wanted to fix me. But maybe I’m grasping at something that isn’t there. “I’m leaving once you’re asleep. You know that, right?”

  She wiggles under the duvet. “I know.”

  As he grabs the remote, he gets comfortable with Ava tucked under his arm, resting her head on his chest. The sight pulls at everything good, and I catch a single tear before it falls.

  It’s beautiful.

  I back away. “Enjoy the movie, sweetheart. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

  Outside frantically thinking about how the man I can’t stop loving is here.

  “No, you don’t.” His demanding voice stops me in my tracks, tingling over every inch of me. “You’re not leaving your own bedroom, Mandy.”

  Jesus, why can’t he see it? Why can’t he see it’s killing me from the inside out?

  “Alex, I can’t,” I choke on the words, clearing my throat quickly.

  I can’t do this with him.

  Not yet.

  “Please,” I beg in a desperate whisper.

  Please see it, Alex.

  See that I’m too in love with you to drag my heart through hope.

  I don’t get to hope with him.

  And as if it all hits him at once, his face drops, as do his eyes, along my body, all the way to the floor and back to mine again. Surely, he didn’t think I’d forgotten what we had, or it was easy for me to give up. In my head, I know better. My heart is having a harder time.

  I don’t need him looking at me like this. He needs to look at me like he has for months. Cold. Closed off. No hope.

  I need it because if I see something different, it will crush everything.

  “Mandy.” My name is warm and desperate from his lips.

  No.

  I shake my head, tears of frustration making my vision blurry.

  My silent pleading must work because with a clenched jaw, those familiar blue eyes glaze over with ice and his chest becomes tense. It hurts, but not as much as the alternative.

  “I’ll be out of here once she’s asleep,” he clips, turning away to turn on the movie.

  My body relaxes with a relieved sigh.

  He gets it now.

  He continues to get it, even while he leaves without saying a word, and when he comes back the next day to pick up Ava, there’s no hint of the warmth or amusement he briefly showed me last night. The same frosty look is in his eyes. He only tolerates looking at me, and when we talk, it’s back to revolving around Ava.

  His distance with me I can deal with.

  Simple.

  Clean cut.

  It makes it hard to breathe, but I can live with it.

  The memories of him are a little harder to accept.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  I’m startled awake, feeling flustered, confused, and wondering where the loud banging is coming from. The harsh sound erupts through my bedroom, and my heart pounds against my chest. As I sit up, my phone buzzes on my bedside locker, and my throat closes when I see Alex’s name.

  Hesitantly, I answer. “Hello?”

  “Open the door.”

  “Alex?”

  Nothing.

  “Is Ava okay?” She left for her trip yesterday, but when she called me tonight, she was happy.

  “She’s fine. Open the goddamn door, Mandy.” It’s an order now, his voice becoming louder and more frantic.

  I get out of bed, my hands trembling, and the only light filtering through my windows is from the moon.

  Through the glass, I see him standing there, leaning towards the door, his arms resting on either side.

  Slowly, I open it, instinctively taking a step back, afraid of what I will see. He raises his head, his once blue eyes becoming dark, and his hands still gripping the door frame. If he holds
it any tighter, he will break it. His knuckles have turned white.

  Neither of us says anything. His glare is boring a hole through me, and I don’t know why, but my eyes fill with salty moisture.

  I swallow, trying to find my voice. “Alex?” It is a bare whisper.

  “Fuck it,” he says gruffly as he storms through the door, slamming it so hard the picture frames rattle on the wall. He doesn’t break his stride, coming towards me like he’s on a mission, and my feet slowly take backward steps.

  I don’t want to, but I need to separate myself from his wildness. But even in his crazed state, my body feels drawn to him. And it doesn’t matter how far I back away because in two paces he has caught up with me, putting his hands on either side of my head and crushing his mouth over mine. His mouth is hot and fast, skilled and steady, and not once pulling away. My lips part in a gasp, but he sees his opportunity, and with a flick of his tongue against mine, I moan into him.

  I can hardly breathe, but I don’t care, and my hands reach for his shirt, pulling him closer because no matter how hard he is kissing me, I need more. I need to fix whatever I have broken in him. Because I have broken him. And I continue to break him every time he must look at me.

  Gone is My Alex, that once kissed me like I would be the one to break. His tenderness has disappeared and was replaced with a shattered hardness. I have fractured the purest parts of him. The part that loved with heat rather than the coldness he is holding me with.

  I need to mend him.

  I have to try.

  “You didn’t break me, Mandy. Nobody has ever broken me,” he murmurs against my lips, like he can read my mind. He leaves one hand in my hair as he places the other on my lower back, moving me with him until my back reaches the wall, supporting my unsteady legs. He doesn’t stop kissing me. Each movement of his mouth is harsher than the last. He kisses me so much my lips hurt. “You”—his lips move across my jaw and down my neck and I gasp as his hand brushes across my breast—“You shattered me.”

  My head falls back against the wall as a single tear slides down my cheek.

  No, Alex, I shattered both of us.

  With shaky hands, I reach up and press my palms firm against his hard chest. I need so much right now, but I need him to stop.