The Sounds of Secrets

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The Sounds of Secrets Page 23

by Whitney Barbetti


  I could feel the steady rhythm of Lotte’s heart against my chest, and that gave me more calm than anything else. She wasn’t afraid, she was completely ready for this. She was braver than I was, something that humbled me.

  Over the next few minutes, she pressed a kiss to my chest, here and there, keeping me grounded and focused. She was the only thing keeping me from spewing.

  I looked down at her, and her focus was somewhere beyond me, out in the distance. I could see the light blue morning sky reflected in her eyes, the way the warm sun washed her face. I could be content to experience this through her face, but watching the awe in her eyes, the slackness in her jaw, made me want to look at it.

  I told myself that I’d made it to this point without falling apart, however many feet we were in the air, that I was still safe, I was okay. Lotte’s lazy back rub was proof of that.

  “I think I’m ready to see,” I told her.

  She nodded. “Yeah? Okay. Don’t let go of me, but I’ll turn a little so you can see. We can turn back if it’s too much.”

  God, I wanted to kiss her then, hard, for the care she was showing me. But I didn’t, because I didn’t want to freak us both out from the movement. We shuffled our feet slowly, turning until I could look out the way she was.

  The first thing my stomach did was flop over itself, but nothing came up in the way of vomit. In fact, I was surprisingly … okay. I could see for miles, and our ascent wasn’t terribly fast anyway. We were moving slowly, enough that it didn’t make me feel like I needed to sit down and take this in. In fact, it was a view that was in every definition an awe-inspiring one. There were the mountains, the lake, the city, and beyond that, the haze of the orange sunrise blurring the horizon. A thousand colors and shapes, and a view I never would’ve been able to have anywhere else.

  I looked out over the mountains, their snow-capped peaks, and the roads that winded through them.

  Lotte leaned against me. “Sam, we did it. You helped me, you made me do this.” Her voice held awe, and even though my stomach felt a bit weak, it was hard not to see it the way she saw.

  I looked out at the other people in the gondola. They were taking photos, selfies, had selfie sticks hanging out of the basket. Everyone was quiet, however, except for a few murmurs of awe.

  I turned to Lotte, who was looking at me, and seemingly had been looking at me for a while, gauging my reaction. She rubbed at my back, squeezed her arms around me. Her blue eyes were soft, her pink lips were closed as she smiled at me, and my heart thumped slowly once, twice, three times, as I stared at her.

  I loved her.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sam leaned in, inch by inch, so slow that I could taste the anticipation. And then he kissed me, while we were thousands of feet in the air.

  When he pulled away, his face was soft, his eyes looking at me like he was savoring me. It might’ve been my imagination, because I was savoring him. He looked so handsome, black beanie over his hair, strong jaw and firm mouth. But the corners of his lips lifted a little in a smile.

  I leaned in, pressed my lips to his chest, and whispered my secret. I love you.

  Never was that feeling stronger than right now, as we soared above the clouds, above everything that awaited us below. In the sky, it was just Sam and me, and everything was okay.

  I settled against his chest, as we enjoyed the rest of the ride in silence.

  As the balloon made its descent, the pilot explained that thanks to the calm winds, we’d luckily experience a “stand up landing.” He pointed to the field that we were headed toward.

  “When we land, please stay still until I’ve given the go-ahead to climb out. We don’t want the balloon to try to take off as you’re exiting the gondola.”

  Sam rubbed my back, the tension he’d carried completely wiped away. He even seemed to be enjoying the ride. It was so much different than I’d expected. Very steady, and a floating feeling on the way up into the sky.

  As the ground came closer and closer, I realized just how … spiritual the experience in the sky had felt. Being close to Sam as the world became smaller had given me a new feeling, like gratitude but pushed to the point of being overwhelming.

  The balloon landed more softly than I expected, just a little bump and we were flat on the ground. The pilot reminded us to be still as he released some of the hot air, and then encouraged us to get out of the balloon, one by one.

  Sam picked me up once he was outside of the balloon and lifted me over.

  “We did it!” I told him, now that we were back on solid ground.

  He laughed, hooked an arm around my shoulders, and pulled me to him. “We did. How do you feel?”

  “Like I just had the most majestic experience of my life.” I nuzzled against him. “You?”

  “I feel like I had a revelation.”

  I looked at him quizzically, but he just gave me a small smile.

  “Come on,” he said. “They serve champagne and breakfast after these.”

  After we got back to the hotel, we were both so tired from the late night we’d had and the fact that we’d gotten up so early that we cuddled together and fell asleep until the late afternoon.

  Sam woke me up by dropping soft kisses to my neck.

  “Mmm,” I murmured as I stretched. “That’s nice.”

  He held my arms above my head as he kissed up my skin. He stopped just at my elbow. “Your freckles here,” he said, tapping the cluster of freckles below my elbow. But he didn’t continue his thought, kissing across my neck to my other shoulder. “Your skin is nice,” he said.

  I was pretty sure my skin could sing for him, based on the way he touched and teased me.

  “You know what I find fascinating, Lotte?”

  “What’s that, Sam?”

  He propped himself up beside me and dragged his fingers lazily up and down my chest. “That I could be as close to you as I’ve been the last few days, and still not feel like I’m close enough. I have a persistent desire to be nearer, even when we’re skin to skin.”

  “I know what you mean,” I said, and I did. I didn’t like to move away from him, because it felt like I was always working on getting closer and closer. “But you can spend the rest of the day working on it.”

  “And the night.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “And all the days and nights that follow.”

  He wasn’t a poet, but he had a poet’s mouth. I was amazed that I could be this comfortable with him, that our talk the night before had torn down any bit of anxiety I felt around him. It was our last full day in the States, and I worried what would happen when we got home. I loved him, but I was afraid. I thought about what Sam said about fear, how love can’t exist without it. There was nothing safe about loving him. And that’s why I did.

  “What’s this frown for?” he asked, rubbing at the skin between my brows.

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen when we’re home, out of this bubble we’ve found ourselves in.”

  “Well,” he began, and tucked hair behind my ear. “We’re going to have to separate long enough to work, and have alone time, but otherwise we’re going to be together.”

  “You make that sound so easy,” I said on a groan and rolled to my side so I could face him. “What about everyone else?”

  “You mean Ames?”

  I nodded. “Him … and others.”

  “Della.” That time, it wasn’t a question.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, Ames might be best if I talk to him first. He’s probably going to hate me a bit, because he knows I’m not good enough for you.”

  “Shut up,” I said. I playfully punched him. “Stop saying that, Sam.” I tugged on his earlobe to get his attention. “You are so good. So kind. So gentle. So stubborn. Therefore, I disagree.”

  His eyes were that lazy kind of soft, a look that made my stomach feel lighter than air. “And Della,” he said, not addressing what I said. “Well, I’ll just toss my phone, change my number, change my
address.”

  “Easy peasy.”

  He laughed. “Exactly.” He played with the ends of my hair. “And we’re both going to fight our demons.”

  Even then, my hands itched to tug my hair. I knew I shouldn’t, but it was tempting. I couldn’t imagine stopping, but I knew I needed to.

  “You can talk to someone,” he said.

  “I talk to you.”

  “Someone who’s trained, who can help you.”

  “And you?” I asked. “You’ll quit?”

  “I have to. I want to. I just know I can’t wean myself; that’s not effective. I guess I’ll get on methadone, or something.”

  “Okay,” I said, but it sounded like fantasyland. Him quitting, cutting Della out of his life. And me, stopping the compulsion that caused me to pull. “You know, I didn’t think addicts could conceal it as well as you do.” I braced myself, after saying that. It felt foreign, to call him an addict so plainly.

  “I’m a functioning addict. Not all of us live on the streets. I’ve managed to hide it very well—but I’ve nearly slipped up a time or two. I’ve never stolen from anyone … until I nearly did earlier today.” He looked me over.

  “But why not tell anyone? Not even Ames? He’s your best mate.”

  “He is. But he’s been burdened by a lot of grief in his life, and for a time, after your sister’s death, he came to me for levity. It didn’t feel right, to dump my problems into his lap. For him to worry about something else.”

  “See? Even though I don’t agree with you, you are a good man. You don’t want to cause more stress on your closest friend, so you endure alone.”

  “Sounds like a badly written martyr,” he said wryly.

  “Sounds,” I whispered, dropping a kiss to his mouth, “like,” another kiss, “you.” I held the third kiss a bit longer and when I pulled back, he sighed softly.

  “And on that token, what is it that you get from the pulling? You’ve managed to hide it well, too.”

  My hand went to my hair, and his eyes tracked the movement. But I dropped my arm. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. When I pull, it’s an instant relief.” I chewed on my lip. “But when I pull out a few at a time, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough—if that makes sense. That hurts. And sometimes I pull and pull and pull, waiting for the relief. It’s a distraction, I think. It’s the one thing that grounds me when I feel like things are out of my control.”

  He sighed a little, pushing my hair from my face. “You need another way to cope, then.”

  I nodded. “And so do you.”

  As dark approached and the reminder of our flights the next day hit us, we kept talking, kept touching, kept holding each other. It was if we’d formed a cocoon together, and we were realizing how soon we’d have to leave it.

  Sometime around midnight, Sam began kissing down my chest, undoing the buttons on my shirt, one-by-one.

  “Sam,” I said on a breath. “We’ve got a flight in six hours.”

  “Oh, good. That gives us six hours to enjoy one another.”

  I laughed, and shoved at him, but he didn’t budge. He kept up his lazy foreplay, kissing just about every inch of my skin as he exposed it. Time passed, but I didn’t pay attention.

  When he had peeled my knickers off my legs and tossed them behind his head, I glanced at the clock. “It’s almost one in the morning. Now, we’ve got five hours until our flight.”

  “Oh, screw the bloody clock,” he said, picking it up and tossing it to the floor. “Let me enjoy you a while longer.”

  And he did.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Tired?” I asked Lotte as she settled against me on our connecting flight out of Boston the following morning.

  “Knackered.” She yawned and tugged the blanket around her shoulders. “But it was worth it.”

  I ran the back of my finger down her cheek and watched her eyes close. “Just a handful of more hours, and we’re home.”

  “It’ll be near closing time then, for the pub.” Her voice was so sleepy.

  “Yeah. It might be best if we broach this with Ames tomorrow morning, when he’s not worn out from working.”

  She nodded, yawned again. “I’m looking forward to being in my bed.”

  “I’m looking forward to being there, too.”

  She laughed, but her eyes were still closed. “Tomorrow. After Ames.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, and watched as she drifted to sleep.

  I’d taken my final two pills before we’d boarded this flight. I wished I had it in me to quit cold turkey, but I just didn’t. It scared me a little, to know I had no plans to take anymore from Della, which meant no choice but going to a doctor and getting a script for methadone. I knew there’d be some kind of treatment plan that would follow, and I’d need to admit my addiction to everyone around me.

  That concerned me the most, because I knew that Ames would be concerned over my intentions for Lotte as it was, but when he found out I was what Della was spreading around, an addict? I just didn’t see him accepting that.

  I tried not to worry about it, but knowing how invested I was in Lotte, all the way in love with her, I actually had something to lose now. The idea of giving up my addiction to painkillers didn’t send me into sweats; but losing Lotte did.

  Perhaps, because I knew Ames would be right. I wouldn’t argue with him that I was good enough for Lotte—I knew I wasn’t. But since she’d accepted me, flaws and all, I felt like I at least had the chance to prove I could be worthy of her.

  Her chest rose and fell beside me, and I tried to imagine letting her go, going back to life as it was, but I couldn’t. I didn’t think I could even go into the pub and see her and not want to have her as mine. Which meant I’d not only have to give up Lotte, but Ames too.

  Sweat prickled my brow at the thought. I didn’t want to imagine any of this, but I knew there were other possibilities to come out of this, and I wanted to be prepared. As prepared as I could be, at least.

  When we arrived at the pub, it was near midnight and despite our naps on the flights home, Lotte and I were near dead on our feet.

  I had every intention of dropping her off at the pub and heading for my flat, but Ames hauled us both in, orchestrated a toast to Lotte’s homecoming, and then he pinned me with a stare that made my blood run cold.

  While Lotte was distracted with Mila and others prodding her for details of her trip and the injury to her leg, Ames pulled me back into the kitchen on the other side of the pub.

  I didn’t think I had the energy for the fight I knew was coming, but I also knew I didn’t have a choice.

  “Hey, Ames,” I said, which were the actual first words I had for him.

  “What the bloody hell,” Ames said. There was anger in his veins, and though it’d only been a handful of days since I’d last seen him, it felt like so much had happened since then, an entire lifetime practically.

  I leaned against the counter, because I was ready to fall asleep. “What?”

  “You know what.” He pointed a finger at me. “Do you deny it? What Della’s accused you of?”

  “I guess it depends on what that is.”

  “The drugs, Sam. Don’t be a daft cow. She says you’re an addict.”

  Fucking Della. “I am.” I didn’t have anything else to say to what he was accusing me of.

  “How long?”

  “Few years. Maybe five.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve hidden it from me all this time.”

  “Me neither, because I’m not very good at hiding it.”

  “Are you having a laugh? That sounds like you’re trying to be funny.”

  I sighed. “I’m not. I’m sorry, Ames, that you had to find out from her.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? We’ve been friends for years, Sam. Years.”

  I didn’t want to tell him, because I worried in telling him, I’d make him feel unnecessarily guilty. “After Mal died, I told myself I’d be there for you. I’d hold you up, if you nee
ded it. If I’d told you, I would have been another thing for you to worry about.”

  “That was still my decision.”

  “Worry isn’t a decision for you. It’s your life.”

  He paused, and I knew I’d hit it on the head for him.

  “I am sorry, that you had to hear it from Della. I knew I needed to talk to you about it, and planned to upon our return home.”

  “That’s awfully convenient, innit? That you planned to tell me now that I already know.”

  “I know it sounds that way, but that’s the truth. Ask Lotte.”

  Ames’ eyes hardened. “Lotte knows?”

  I nodded. “She caught me. Taking pills.”

  “You tosser. You had to drag her into this.”

  I paused on that one. “I suppose I did, but it wasn’t intentional.” I thought about how I’d confessed it, on the heels of her own confession. “She and I, we shared a few secrets on this trip.”

  I’m not sure which part of that sentence trigged his suspicion, but he stared hard at me. “What happened between you two?”

  This wasn’t going according to plan, which was the story of my life, but it was rolling so quickly out of my hands that I couldn’t catch up, couldn’t make Ames understand in a way that didn’t make me look like a dodgy arsehole.

  “Ames, I care about her.”

  “Yeah, so? I care about her too.”

  He was my best mate, but he was also being an arse. “Look, you know who I am, you know the kind of person I am. I’m not after breaking her heart.”

  “Do I know you? Do I know the kind of person you are?”

  “You do. Ames, you know you do. I’m still the same person as before, the same guy who helped you around the pub.” I winced, hating that I brought that up. It was cheap. “I have a problem. But I know I need to fix it. And I want to, which I think is more significant.” Lotte and I had made the promise in the hotel room, to come back here, to fix what was wrong.

 

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