by Sienna Blake
Yet a sadness tugged at my heart, because it was Darren’s absence that crafted this happy little picture. It hurt to think that when he arrived, he would come like a rain cloud, a cold wind, a flurry of snowflakes. Like the solemn Ghost of Christmas Past.
I ached because I felt like there was nothing I could do to help him. And I wanted to. I wanted to help him…
“Hey, is Darren still asleep?” I asked Ma as I joined her on the couch next to my small pile of presents.
“Oh, no, no,” Ma answered, leaning in close to me to whisper. “He got called into the shop.”
I frowned. “The shop?”
“A family’s car broke down just as they were on their way to visit grandparents,” Ma explained. “Darren agreed to help them. He left early this morning before everyone woke up.”
I nodded, sinking back into the couch and sipping quietly on my mimosa. Darren’s “shop emergency” was pretty easy to see through: the shop didn’t have an on-call system, so there was no way at all that this so-called family could have reached him. I glanced over at Ma, who was chatting with Aubrey about The Jar. Did she know it was a lie? With those sharp blue eyes, she must have known.
Why didn’t she call him out on his bullshit?
Why didn’t she insist that he stay with the family on Christmas morning?
Why did she let him be alone?
The warm fire crackled as a log shifted, but it suddenly didn’t feel so warm knowing Darren was by himself in that cold garage. The Christmas lights on the tree twinkled, but I couldn’t enjoy them quite as much as before when I imagined that the glare of the head lamp beneath the undercarriage of a car was Darren’s only light.
I was lost in thought when Eoin’s loud voice burst through.
“My Kayleigh Bear first! Shut it, everyone. I’m giving Kayleigh my present.”
Blinking, I watched Eoin manoeuvre over the cinnamon rolls and around the maze of drinks to kneel in front of me on the couch.
“Merry Christmas, my Kayleigh Bear, my soulmate, my fairy tale princess,” he said, grinning ear to ear.
From behind his back he produced a small box wrapped messily in green and red paper topped with a sparkly silver bow bigger than the box itself. The sight of it made my stomach drop.
The living room dropped into a much more familiar silence as I reached out my hand to take the box.
“What is it?” I asked with a nervous laugh.
Eoin’s big paws shook my knees as he bounced up and down excitedly. “You have to open it up to see, silly.”
“Yeah, but what is it?” I repeated, this time not succeeding in keeping my voice light.
Eoin rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before saying, “Here, I’ll help you.”
Frozen in place, I did little more than hold the box as Eoin tore at the wrapping paper and flung the bow over his shoulder.
“There,” he announced, pushing my hands and the black velvet box in them, toward me.
My heart started to race. I leaned forward, wishfully thinking that only Eoin could hear me as I whispered, “Eoin, is that a…” I lifted a pointed eyebrow, but Eoin was too busy smiling excitedly at the velvet box to notice. I leaned forward a little more. “Eoin, I really think we should talk first about—”
“Open it! Open it!” Eoin burst out.
Not able to wait any longer, Eoin lifted the lid on the box, which faced everyone but me. Aubrey gasped and covered her mouth. Michael whistled. Noah sent Eoin, who was searching the room for approval, a big thumbs-up.
No, no, no. This cannot be happening. Not like this.
Not with him.
“They’re lovely, Eoin, honey,” Ma said, smiling softly as she cupped her mug of hot chocolate.
“They were the most expensive in the whole entire store,” Eoin announced, beaming with pride in front of me. “The whole entire store! And it was a really fancy store, too.”
The utter panic in my mind paused momentarily for a brief interjection of logic: “they”. Ma and Eoin said “they”.
Twisting the box around, I did my best to hold back the biggest sigh of relief at the sight of a sparkling pair of diamond earrings.
“Oh, thank God,” I muttered under my breath, running a hand over my sweaty forehead.
“What’s that, Kayleigh Bear?” Eoin asked.
I smiled and reached out to cup Eoin’s cheek. “They’re beautiful. Thank you, Eoin.”
In reality, I had barely even seen them. They glistened in the soft sunlight, but not in my eyes. They were rare and beautiful, but not in my mind. They would be the envy of every woman I passed, but in my heart the only thing I wanted on my ears was car grease.
“Put them on, put them on,” Eoin cheered, getting his entire family in on it.
“Alright, alright,” I said, forcing a good-natured laugh.
I eased the diamonds from the backing and slipped them through each ear, tucking back my long red hair so Eoin and the family could see.
“Gorgeous,” Aubrey said, before grinning mischievously at Noah. “Please tell me the store was having a buy one, get one free sale.”
Noah ruffled Aubrey’s hair and tugged her into his lap. “You’re getting socks and you know it.”
Eoin gave me a quick kiss on the mouth, but apparently his attention span was all used up, because he crawled back across the maze of Christmas treats and lifted the first present he could reach. “My turn!”
I patted Ma’s hand and said softly, “I’m going to go see how they look, alright?”
“Of course.”
I hurried quickly up the stairs and closed Eoin’s door behind me before going to the bed and lifting my pillow beneath which I’d hidden Darren’s gift. I buckled it around my waist before slipping back into the hall and ducking into the bathroom.
Inside the bathroom, I stood in front of the mirror and saw the two women before me. There was Eoin’s girl: diamond earrings, fancy restaurants and blisters from toe-pinching stilettos. Then there was Darren’s girl: hard-working, tough, simple and, yeah, a bit messy.
I had to decide which girl I wanted to be.
The answer was right there in front of me.
It’d been right there in front of me the whole time.
Darren
I added “lying to Ma on Christmas morning” to the long, long list of sins I needed to confess to the priest the next time I made it back to church, if ever. Funny, it wasn’t even the worst of my sins and even funnier that it wasn’t even close.
Since there was actually no desperate family trying to get to grandma’s, I busied myself with cleaning and repairing my own motorcycle. I was lost in the black sheen of the gas tank when the back door swung open.
A burst of cold air barrelled into the garage, dousing any trace of heat that sputtered out of the dusty heater in the corner by the back office. But it wasn’t this assault of wintry freeze that sent goose bumps along my bare forearms, my charcoal-grey Henley pushed up to my elbows.
It was the fire burning and pulsing and snapping in Kayleigh’s eyes. It was the fire that gave me chills.
She stood in the doorway, outlined by an inky-black night as if she’d travelled to me from the very far reaches of the universe. The wind tugged at strands of her long red hair as she pulled off her white beanie and let it drop by her side, uncaring that it was dirtied by dirt or oil.
Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils wide as her eyes fell on me like a judge’s gavel falling in the courtroom, its sharp echo ringing endlessly in my head; the sentence was pronounced, the verdict sealed, my fate doomed:
I was hers.
I was hers.
I was hers.
Even though she could never be mine.
Stuffing my grease-covered rag into the back pocket of my jeans, I stood from where I was kneeling beside my motorcycle and dragged my fingers through my hair with a tired sigh. “Look, Kayleigh, I’m sorry that I wasn’t there at home with everyone today. But I meant what I said last night.”
She took a step forward, a step closer to me.
Watching her with curious eyes, I scratched at the back of my neck awkwardly. “I intend to do just what I said I would do,” I continued, “I’m going to step back. I’m going to give you and Eoin your chance. I’m going to do the right thing.”
Kayleigh did not acknowledge that words were coming out of my mouth as she walked along the ’67 Mustang at the back of the garage. Her eyes remained on mine, unflinching, unwavering, undeterred.
“It’s just that I’m afraid that doing the right thing is going to be harder than I thought,” I said, pausing before adding, “much harder than I thought.”
It’s why I fled to my garage this morning. It’s why I lied to Ma in order to get away. It’s why I considered taking a trip somewhere, anywhere. To drive my motorbike as far as it would go and then farther. Just for a little while. Just long enough to get Kayleigh out of my mind, my heart, my soul.
I almost managed to convince myself it would just take a few weeks, a month at most. I almost managed to believe it wouldn’t take a fecking eternity.
“It’s just that I don’t have as much self-control as I thought I had,” I said, eyes fixed on Kayleigh as she placed one foot in front of the other on the dirty grey concrete. “Kayleigh, when you’re around it’s like I don’t have any self-control at all and I…”
The rest of my thought trailed off because how could I possibly think of any other words than “beautiful”, “seductive”, and “irresistible” when Kayleigh was looking into my eyes like that. She had yet to open her mouth as she continued to stride toward me, unaware of what her growing proximity was doing to my heart.
“Kayleigh…you don’t know what you do to me.” Desperation entered my voice. Desperation because if she kept walking toward me like that, I feared I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. Desperation because if she kept walking toward me like that, I feared I wouldn’t want to stop myself.
“We need to stay away from one another,” I said, licking my suddenly dry lips as Kayleigh’s fingers traced the long, sleek line of the hood of the car in front of my motorcycle.
Step back, I told myself. Step back before you make a mistake you’ll regret, a mistake you won’t be able to take back. I knew all about those kinds of mistakes. I knew the pain they brought, the agony they burned into your heart like a brand.
“Kayleigh, I don’t think it’s a good idea that we work together anymore.” My words were half an assertion, half a plea.
Kayleigh did not open her mouth to agree, nor did she open her mouth to disagree. She did not open her mouth at all. Her eyes remained fixed on mine, one foot in front of the other.
She was walking the plank and I was the rough, choppy seas beneath the safety of the ship. Didn’t she know I would drag her under? Didn’t she know she would drown in me? Didn’t she see that the sparkling sun was far, far, far away from my dark depths?
“Really we shouldn’t be alone together at all,” I said, then well past desperation.
Step back, my mind screamed. Step away. Run away.
But my feet did not move and Kayleigh’s did not stop.
My voice was tight, strained as I said, “I can stay away from the house till the holidays are over and then we can figure out what to do after that.”
Now she was close enough that I could smell the scent of her shampoo, fresh cream and strawberries.
I did not step back.
I could make out each distinct freckle along her cheeks, along the tip of her nose, like the lens of a telescope focusing on the night sky.
But I did not step back.
Kayleigh was close enough to me that I could hear her tiny exhales as she breathed, ragged and uneven and breathless.
Still I did not step back.
“Kayleigh, I can’t be around you,” I said, chest tight, fingers numb at my sides. “I can’t be around you because I can’t stop myself.”
Was she even hearing me? Could she not hear the truth pulsing like a heartbeat through my every word? Could she not see that I was a half-step away from grabbing her, pushing her up against the hood of the Mustang, and tearing at her clothes?
The toe of Kayleigh’s boots brushed against mine as she stopped in front of me. She looked up at me through a curtain of eyelashes and all I needed to do was step back, just one step. One step back and I could breathe. I could think straight. I could gain back an ounce of self-control. I could. I could…
“Kayleigh,” I whispered, “please, I can’t stop myself around you. I can’t hold myself back. I—”
Kayleigh’s arms reached up to lock around my neck, dragging me down to her, our lips crashing. This was us colliding. We were going to sink together and we’d never need the sun ever again, together in the dark. Her fingers tugged greedily at the hair at the nape of my neck as she pressed herself up against me.
Her lips tasted of mulled wine: hot and spiced and sweet. One sip and I wanted to get drunk on her, her and her alone. No whiskey would ever give me a buzz ever again. A keg of beer wouldn’t do a thing for me. Vodka, scotch, bourbon, it was all worthless now.
With an uncontrollable growl, I wrapped my arms around her waist and grabbed handfuls of her coat, eager to have my hands on her hips, her ass, her tits. We kissed hard, desperately, only parting for ragged breaths of air before colliding again.
I wanted her and she wanted me and we were done pretending that it was a choice. There was no decision here: she was mine and I was hers.
Tools clattered to the concrete floor as Kayleigh pushed me roughly against the toolbox behind my motorcycle. She dragged her nails down my back before slipping her fingers beneath my Henley. Her hands were ice and fire against my skin, and I prayed that each graze of her fingertip left a permanent mark on me.
I never wanted her to leave me. I wanted to smell her scent on my skin, I wanted to feel the burn of her lips against mine. I wanted to hear her every ragged breath in my ear forever and forever and forever. I wanted her to claim me, every part of me.
I wanted her to know me, all of me. I wanted her to know my every thought, my every memory, my every dream and hope and fear. I wanted her to know the things I wanted no one to know—my secrets, my skeletons, my regrets, my nightmares, the dark side of my soul.
I’d spent my whole life since my twin brother’s death wanting to hide everything: my pain, my guilt, and more than anything, my happiness, what little ray of sunshine broke through my constant rainstorm. But as I kissed Kayleigh and felt her tight against me, clinging to me just like I clung to her, I no longer wanted to hide.
I wanted her to see my pain.
I wanted her to see my guilt, raw and ugly and brutal.
And I wanted, needed her to see why I couldn’t be happy, especially not with her.
Pushing Kayleigh away from me felt like ripping away my own arm. When had she become so integral to my being? When had her heart been sewed together with mine so when hers beat faster mine did too? How had I let myself become so dependent on her, the way I was dependent on my own hot red blood pumping through my veins?
“Wait,” I gasped, the air without her not filling my lungs the way it had just moments before, “wait, Kayleigh, wait.”
She didn’t want to stop, her teeth nipping at my lower lip almost making me lose my will.
“Kayleigh, wait,” I repeated, gripping her arms. “Stop, please stop.”
Kayleigh dropped from her tiptoes and looked up at me with a slightly raised eyebrow, a silent question: why can’t we keep going?
Why must we always stop?
Why can’t we just take what we want, what we both obviously want?
From the quickness of her breath, the pink flush of her cheeks, the dark stretch of her wide pupils like a mirror as she searched for an answer in the pained lines of my tortured face, I knew.
I knew she didn’t understand. She didn’t understand why two puzzle pieces that fit like a glove aren’t meant to interlock. She didn’t understand why instead there had to be a permanent hole: in her heart, in mine. It didn’t make sense to her, but it was only because she didn’t understand.
She didn’t know.
With a shaky exhale, I brushed a strand of wild red hair from Kayleigh’s cheek and tucked it gently behind her ear.
“I need to show you something.”
Kayleigh
We stopped on a dark, empty stretch of road.
The wheels of Darren’s motorcycle crunched the pebbles along the shoulder of the road as he pulled alongside a rusted metal guard rail and killed the engine with a quick twist of the key. It rumbled, sputtered, then died. My arms were wrapped tightly around Darren’s waist and I didn’t want to move. Part of me wanted to tell him to turn the key, start the engine of his motorcycle, and drive away. Hell, it didn’t matter where. Just away, away, far away.
Part of me didn’t want Darren to show me what he wanted to show me. Part of me wanted to go back to the garage. Part of me didn’t want to know.
Because part of me feared Darren brought me here to say goodbye.
I sensed the same hesitation in Darren’s tense back as he remained still on his motorcycle in front of me. Was he pondering just kicking back up the kickstand and driving away? Was he considering taking me back to his place and finishing what I started? Did he want to pretend for just an hour or two more that we could have everything?
Because I did…
I squeezed my eyes closed and fought back a sudden swell of tears when Darren finally swung his leg over the motorcycle and climbed off. The cold of the frigid night flooded in to fill the void, and terror gripped me because I wasn’t sure I would ever be warm again. Craning my neck over my shoulder, I found Darren kicking at the dirt along the guard rail, hands stuffed into his pockets. Past him the lights of Dublin twinkled in lieu of stars. I stared down the dark, tree-lined stretch of road before slipping off the motorcycle and moving to stand shivering next to Darren. Our shoulders brushed against one another’s but he felt miles upon miles away.
