My invigoration quickly turns to being disheartened when I see who is standing directly in front of his headstone. Of all the days I choose to visit, she's here. It didn’t even occur to me that our paths might cross. If anything, I thought her new fancy man would have kept her too busy to stop by. I stand for a few moments, deliberating whether to turn around and come back later. This isn’t the time or the place to create a scene with my mum, but as she turns to walk away, I realise I’ve been stood staring for a moment too long. Her eyes lock with mine and I know I’ve been spotted, too.
I’m not sure if it’s because I’m in this environment or whether it’s the time that has passed, but I don’t feel angry anymore when I look at her. All I feel is a weird lull of nothingness, almost emptiness. I have no desire to speak to her but, on the other hand, I have no urge to shout or scream either. The best thing that could happen would be for her to walk on by and pretend she doesn’t see me. That’s what I want to do. She gave birth to me, nurtured me for all those years, helping me to say my first word, take my first step, teaching me to read and write. If it weren’t for her choosing my school, I would never have found Izzy. I have so many things to be thankful to her for, but all the milestones seem so insignificant in comparison to what she did. I often think a better person would be forgiving. I know that’s exactly what my dad would encourage me to do, but forgiving is like me admitting I’m okay with it, and I’m far from that. I will never be okay with it.
For the sake of the significance of today, and no other reason, my feet begin to carry me slowly towards her. The closer I get, the more I notice her appearance. The dark creases under her eyes and the deep lines of her forehead make her look so much older than she used to. She doesn’t look like she’s had much sleep lately, either. Not to mention how she’s dressed. Once upon a time, I would never have used the words old fashioned in the same sentence as my mum, but that’s exactly how she appears. She was my inspiration growing up. I used to adore her style, many a time using her clothes and shoes to play dress up and smearing my face in her makeup. Her drab, weary appearance has me almost feeling a bit sorry for her.
“Mum."
“Paris."
I shuffle my feet, gazing down at the grass, not knowing what to say. I know she feels just as uncomfortable as me, or at least that’s what I think until her body comes hurtling towards mine and her arms are wrapped so tightly around me I think I’m about to stop breathing. I can’t help but stiffen in response.
She’s hugging me. She’s giving me a hug.
“Mum, I’m going to pass out.”
I’ll admit it’s a step too far for me. I struggle to hug her back in the same manner, so I opt for a simple tap on her back to acknowledge her gesture. Even though I’m not struck by a connection between us, she is quite clearly feeling something, whether it’s a motherly bond or just pure guilt. Either way, she made the first move and for that, I guess, I am grateful.
“How are you?”
“I’m not sure how to answer that.” The sorrow in her expression agrees with what she’s saying. She’s torn.
Raising a brow, I twist my lips. “Maybe start with the truth?”
“The truth isn’t something you’ve wanted to hear in the past, Paris.” There’s no snipe to her comment, but I know what she’s insinuating. She sounds as defeated as I feel, but at this moment in time, I have no desire to go there with her.
“Mum, it’s a simple question.” I sigh. “Are you doing okay?”
“Apart from losing my husband and daughter within the space of a year, yeah, I’m okay.”
“Please, don’t start this. I don’t want to hear it. Not now. Not today.”
“That’s the problem, Paris. You never want to hear it. It doesn’t matter what day it is. You’re never going to, but I need you to,” she pleads.
“And what about what I want? That’s never even entered your mind in any of this, has it?” I ask as softly as I can manage, because at this point, it’s nothing I haven’t heard from her a million times over, either in text or on a voicemail. She will always fail to see my points because she’s selfish and selfish people are blinded by their self-regard.
“For goodness sake, girl, I wish you would open up your eyes. You are not the only one that has suffered. You’re not the only one who lost a piece of yourself when he died. You think it doesn’t hurt me, Paris? You think I’m not suffering?" Her voice becomes strained as she steps closer towards me. It causes my hands to tighten their grip on my helmet, my anger slowly simmering away beneath the surface. “Shock, numbness, anger, pain, yearning… I’ve felt every one of them. I miss him so much, half the time, I wish God had taken me with him, too, but he didn’t. I’m still here and I have to try and find some way to carry on with my life.”
“What? By jumping into bed with another man?” I snipe.
“I’m not going to lie to you. I’m a weak person, Paris. I can’t survive on my own. I’m not strong like you. Your dad was the strength of this family. You have his heart, his passion and his god damn stubbornness.”
I notice the small shake in her hand. It’s the second sincere action she’s shown. Despite my anger, I can’t help but think she’s genuine and for once, possibly speaking from her own heart. It’s the most interaction we’ve had in a year, but it’s the closest we’ve come to sharing our emotions for at least three.
“I want to be everything he was and everything he wasn’t.”
“The truth is… It’s… I need the strength of another person to carry me through life. I don’t expect you to understand. You’ve never needed anyone to help you. I’ve always admired your resilience. You always bounce back with an extra little bit of fight, Paris. Nothing gets you down for long.”
If only she could see that was the person I used to be before Dad died, the person she used to know. Losing him ripped that part of me in two. It wasn’t like failing an exam or discovering I had two left feet. I haven’t bounced back; I’ve just fumbled my way through the days, barely coping. It’s been damn tough and all I needed was my mum, for her to show me love, to let me know we were still a family, but she couldn’t.
“You had me. All you had to do was say how you felt. I would have helped you. I could have got you through it. We could have survived together but you chose him. You chose to lie to me. When did you start lying, Mum? It was always something you and Dad were dead against.”
Right on cue, Mav and Rob fly through my mind to remind me of the lies I'm telling myself and how much of a hypocrite I am, but this is a different situation, or at least that’s what I convince myself of to force the thought away quickly.
“I felt like I was losing control. I couldn’t sleep. I started suffering nightmares, the anxiety was too much, and I was slipping into depression. I needed something, anything to ease the pain. John was an old friend of your dad’s from his school days. He was someone to talk to. I didn’t want to burden you. You’re a young woman, Paris. You didn’t deserve to lose your father and you didn’t deserve to be lumbered with me. I wanted you to go out and have fun. To try and find some normality and do what a normal girl your age should.”
“We’re family. We should have stuck together. That’s what families do!” I shout, a little too loudly. I notice someone sat close by giving me a disgusted look and try my best to get my temper back under control by tapping the helmet against my hand.
“You had Izzy to help you.”
“I should have had my mum.”
Izzy is my best friend, the closest thing I have to a sister, and without her support, there is no way I would have made it this far, but she still isn’t my mum. I know I’m glaring at her with nothing but anger as she drops her head to her chest, and I can’t help wondering if she’s finally getting the point.
When she finally looks back up to speak, her sorrowful expression convinces me she may have finally twigged. “Maybe you should have, but I was grieving. I still am. There isn’t a day goes by I don’t think about him.
”
“Me, too,” I whisper.
It’s the only thing we agree on. I’m not going to argue with that.
“Paris, I know I’m far from perfect. I just wish you could give me another chance. He’s not the only one I miss. I do miss you, too, despite what you might think. You’re my daughter and I’ll always love you.” I don’t miss the small jerk of her hand, like she’s considering reaching out and touching my arm but thinks twice about it. I’m starting to feel torn. Even through all my outbursts, anger and ignorance she still loves me, but I’m just not sure I believe it and I’m certainly unsure as to whether I could ever trust her again.
Closing my eyes, I shake my head slowly and choke out, “I… I just don’t know, Mum.”
“Please say you’ll think about it. It would be killing your dad if he could see us now.”
She has a point. He wouldn’t be happy to see us falling out. He was constantly mediating between the two of us until our mini spats were done and dusted. Then again, it would kill him to see her with another man, so I’m not sure how valid her point is.
“I’ll think about it.” It’s all I can say at this moment in time.
“Thank you.” Her shoulders sag like she’s relieved as she continues. “I’m going to go now. I’ll give you some space with your dad. Just know that the door is always open.”
With that, she gives me a flat smile and walks away. She was my heroine growing up and I’m starting to realise just how jaded that notion was. My childhood memories are becoming tainted with every discovery of my past. Either that, or I’m switching from a naïve child to a slightly wiser adult. Life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I turn to face my dad’s headstone and blow out.
“Hey, Dad… And how are you today?”
Fifteen
12th May 2001
I haven't been able to stop thinking about Rob all the way home. It's been one of those journeys where you reach your destination and can't quite remember how you made it. As soon as I land back on Leeds soil, I know I have to make my way over to his apartment, even though technically, it is breaking the rule. I can't help myself. One thing that hit home today, more than anything else, is that life's too short to let things pass us by without even trying. In the blink of an eye, it could all disappear and all I could be left with is pain and regret. I can't keep hiding my feelings out of fear. It's no way to live. It's no way to love.
My mum made it sound like she relied on my dad to keep her heart beating like he was her reason for living and without him she was nothing - a weaker version of her former self. It’s made me realise how much I have become reliant upon his touch and his company to make me feel alive. It doesn’t matter how much I try to deny it to myself; my heart is screaming out to me loud and clear… I’m falling for him. Despite all his faults and his inability to open up, he's the first person that comes to mind when I need someone to run to and I have to know if he feels the same way about me.
Knocking frantically on his apartment door, I pray to God he doesn’t lose his shit with me for turning up unexpectedly. What if he has guests? What if he has another woman in there?
The thought of him being with anyone but me has me feeling sick to the stomach. I don’t know when I switched over from not caring to caring too much, but it’s happened and now I have to deal with it. It suddenly dawns on me how much of a bad idea this is. I'm about to flee to the lift when the bolt slowly unlocks and the door opens, revealing a very sleepy looking Rob. His long hair is shaggier than usual. He’s only wearing sweats, and his perfect chest is laid bare for me to admire. The confusion quickly shows in the big frown he is sporting as he scratches the back of his neck.
“Yummers, what are you doing here?” he drones.
I half expect him to drag me into his apartment with worry that someone might spot me turning up here. But he doesn’t. He’s using my pet name. Anyone else calling someone that and it would sound utterly ridiculous, but he makes it sound so seductive as he lazily steps aside, silently inviting me to enter.
I honestly don’t know what to say but the truth. “I just needed to be near you.” The courage I mustered up on the way over here is slowly starting to fade away with each second I stand in his presence. What was I thinking? There is no way on earth a man like a Rob could feel the same way about me. We're from two different worlds. He's ten years older, well educated, well travelled and extremely good looking. Me... I’m just a kid.
“Oh.” He continues to look at me hesitantly.
This was a mistake. I didn’t think he would greet me with open arms, but his look of indecision says it all. He doesn’t want me here.
As quickly as my footsteps through the door, it turns straight back out. I drop my head to my chest, making my excuses to leave. I've already humiliated myself enough by just turning up out of the blue.
“I’m sorry. This was a mistake. I should go.”
His hand swiftly shifts from the back of his neck; catching my arm and pulling me back inside.
“Whoa. Where are you going?”
His other hand reaches out to shut the door behind me. The space between us feels so small, so tight. I want him to sweep me off my feet like the first night we met, I want him to hold me and drive this confusion away. I want him to want me. Is that too much to ask?
“It’s okay, Rob. You don’t have to pretend. Your face says it all.”
“My face? What are you talking about, Paris?” His hand finds mine, tugging me that little bit closer to him. “It’s 1 o’clock in the morning and I was sleeping. You caught me off guard, that’s all.”
As I lift my head to gaze into his sleepy eyes, there are a million things racing around in my mind that I want to say…
The warmth and smell of your body make me feel at home.
I only find peace in my mind when you're around.
Just seeing you smile makes me smile, too.
The way you encourage me to be myself melts my heart.
I barely know you, yet I’m scared by what I feel.
People fall in love in mysterious ways.
I’m falling for you…
All that manages to fall from my lips is, “I should have called.”
“Well, there is that. You know the risk we run of being seen together.” His finger runs from my hand, up my arm, all the way to my cold cheek. My skin starts to burn under his delicate touch. “But right now, I’m more concerned as to what is wrong with you? Especially after you ignored my texts this evening."
Placing my head against his heart, I realise it’s beating heavily, but then again, so is mine – so loudly it feels like it's ringing in my ears. I need to calm down. The last thing I need is for him to pressure me into opening up. I'm weak when I'm around him and I'm too scared of what I will say. I don't want to push him away when I'm finally close. My mouth has a habit of letting me down, and I don't think this situation is going to be any different.
"I had to go visit someone today. I switched my phone off so I didn't see your messages until not so long ago." I'm not lying. I'm just providing him with more information than necessary. Maybe if I test his curiously a little, it may lead me to some answers without having to ask the questions.
"But that still doesn't explain why you've turned up here unannounced?"
His hand rakes through my hair, easing the tension in my body. I feel like a kitten that's being stroked, purring with contentment. I've always enjoyed having my hair played with; it's relaxing and peaceful. I could quite easily stand here lost in this moment forever. So much so, the mouth I was worried about just moments before reacts without thought.
"Do you like me, Rob?" I blurt out. I feel his hand hesitate for a moment before he continues to stroke.
"Paris, I wouldn't be sleeping with you and risking my career if I didn't like you."
I pull my head away from his chest far enough to gaze up into his eyes, almost pleading with him when I speak. "Kiss me. Please, just kiss me."
As he stares back d
own at me, his heart continues to pound and his hands are deathly still causing my stomach to spring to life and do somersaults. I've never felt so open and vulnerable as I do right now. When his head dips to mine, I have to fight the intense urge to close my eyes. I need to be able to see everything, commit any possible moment to memory. If he shows any raw emotion towards me, I want to witness it.
“Paris, what’s going on?”
I furrow my brow as I gaze back at him “I just need you to kiss me like you mean it.”
“Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
That signature smile of his suddenly graces his face. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want him right now. I need him to help me cast any doubt I may have aside and prove to me I am what he wants, that I am good enough for him.
It drives me wild when he continues to place gentle, teasing kisses across my jaw and down my neck. With his lips nestled in the crook of my shoulder, I almost drift off into my dream world – one where Rob and I are free to show everyone we are a couple. In a world where he lets me slip in through the door of his uncertainty because he finally trusts me enough to be more than a casual lover.
“I know what you need, Paris.”
I don’t get a chance to ask questions as he hoists from me from my feet, walking us backwards towards his open-plan living room. His lips quickly find mine and start to move together in time. The closer we get, the more the strokes of our tongues become needy and desperate.
“I want you, Paris. I want you so fucking much.” His deep, husky voice dances across my soft, full lips. I have a strong and uncontrollable desire to tell him how I truly feel, but I hesitate. I can’t fully commit my heart to him until he does the same to me. I know that we are close, so for now, I’m going to let the language of our body’s takeover. I crave his taste, his rugged touch, his musky scent, and his passionate words. I want all of Rob Stone, and I want him now.
Paris Hemsworth's Road to Wonderland (Road to Wonderland Series Book 2) Page 10
