Oceans Apart 2

by Amanda Heartley

  “Yes, son… now move along, the car is waiting and the next time you threaten our driver with deportation, it will be the last,” he replied, glancing at his watch. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes.” He could be a total arse, but he was still my father.

  Before we’d reached LAX and began boarding the plane, I’d texted Ginny several times to ask her how she was, why she’d left and when could we talk again. I missed her so much already and sent one final message to let her know I’d be on the wi-fi on the company jet for the next fifteen hours or so.

  Once we’d taken off, I stared at my computer screen, waiting for a reply from her. After my father had stormed into my hotel room and disturbed what should have been a beautiful moment between us, I’d come out of the bathroom to discover she’d already gone. I’d called her from the hotel phone and sent numerous emails and Skype messages while packing. But no answer. I’d planned a lovely breakfast of eggs, smoked salmon and champagne. I wanted the last few hours with Ginny to be memorable, enjoying her beauty and maybe even talk about our future… if we even had a future. My father had made sure to fuck that up. Social status. Sometimes I hated being an Armstrong. Who the fuck cares about social status?

  Landing in London was bittersweet. I felt off, as if the past few days had been nothing but a dream.

  “Your mother is expecting us for dinner,” my father said as we sat quietly in the back of the car. Rather than deign to answer, I simply nodded before turning my attention to the shops as they passed by. I could tell that my silence was riling my father, but I refused to speak to him even, as the car pulled into the gates. I saw my mother waiting by the front door and tried to fake a smile for her, but one look at my face had her frowning. I saw a worried look pass between her and my father before she clutched my arm and dragged me into the house.

  “Tristan dear, come tell me all about your trip while your father freshens up.”

  My father grunted out something behind us before he went upstairs to his room. As soon as his footsteps were gone, she turned to me with a concerned look in her eye.

  “Now, tell me what’s wrong,” she demanded in her motherly voice.

  I balked before turning my gaze to the floor. “Nothing’s wrong, mum. You know how much father and I can’t stand each other. We just had a small row, that’s all.”

  “Tristan Lee Armstrong” she hissed. You may be a lot of things, but a liar is not one of them.” She led us over to the sofa before sitting me down and clasping my hands. “Now, what really happened?”

  The look on mum’s face turned soft, caring and it caused the pent-up frustration inside me to burst. Before I knew it, I was telling her the whole story from the moment I met Ginny to our last day together. By the end of my winding tale, I was slumped forward in my seat while my mother listened intently to what I had to say

  “And that’s where I am, mum. I keep trying to get in contact with her but she won’t return any of my messages,” I finished, my voice ending on a sigh. My mum sat quietly for a moment before her contemplative gaze turned towards the floor.

  “Tristan, I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone.” She looked away for a second before pinning me in place with her gaze. “When I was young, probably around Ginny’s age, I fell in love with a boy who had no prospects for the future. Well, no prospects according to your grandfather.”

  “Wait a minute, I thought you met father when you were young and fell in love with him.”

  My mother patted me softly on the cheek with a sad smile on her face. “No, dear. I met your father through my father’s business acquaintances. I had planned on marrying the boy I fell in love with and moving away to live a happy life with him in France. Unfortunately, your grandfather found out and gave me an ultimatum. I was to either marry your father or be cut off from the family.”

  I balked at the idea that my grandfather, my mother’s father, the same kind man I remembered who would take me to the ice cream parlor when I was a child, was actually more like my own father than I had ever known.

  “I made the difficult decision to give up on love in order to stay in my comfortable life of wealth and privilege...and I’ve regretted that decision my entire life,” she finished, her voice quieter. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I knew my parents built their marriage on mutual respect rather than blinding, passionate love. But, I never knew that mum once had true love that she let slip away.

  “Mum…” I trailed off, not knowing what to say. I looked up and she had that knowing look on her face. “So, we’re multi generations of privilege? Money over love? And that’s why father was so adamant about Vanessa?”

  She nodded. “Tristan, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me and that’s why I’m telling you this. That’s also why I stayed with your father for so many years. You are my life. The joy you bring to me is more important than anything.”

  She cupped my cheeks into her shaking hands. “Love is not something you play with. If you love this girl, if she makes your heart sing and gives you reason to be a better person… then don’t let her go.” She bowed her head. I could hear her breathing, I hoped she wasn’t about to cry. I didn’t want to make my mum go through all of these emotions, but I had no idea what to say to her.

  She looked back up at me, “Son, don’t do what I did. Don’t live your life for anyone else but you. I don’t care what your father says and you shouldn’t either. One day he and I will be gone…who do you want by your side when that time comes?” She stood up and walked toward the corridor, stopping for a second and then added, “Son, it’s your decision. Not mine, not your father’s… yours. Make sure it isn’t one you regret.”

  I sat there even after my mum had got up and walked away. My mother was right. Although I rebelled against my father, at the end of the day, I was still trying to please him and keep him happy at the cost of my own happiness. My father walked into the room, interrupting my thoughts. He stopped in the doorway and we stared at each other, the tension between us thick and growing thicker by the minute. The anger I felt at him grew and I longed to lash out at him for my mother and the sacrifices she’d made.

  Before saying anything, I’d probably regret for the rest of my life, I took a few deep breaths, pushed past him and went through the door. I grabbed my keys and stepped into the darkness of the night, my fingers already shooting a text off to Mike telling him to meet me at our usual spot. I felt restless and unsettled and I needed to bounce some ideas off him.

  “I need to what?”

  “Make up with your father, mate,” Mike said with a nod. He picked up his pint and took a huge swallow while I stewed in my anger at his flippant tone.

  “What the fuck are you on about? Did you not hear a word I’ve said, Mike? The man is an absolute prat with no thought other than maintaining this illusion of the perfect family with the perfect company and perfectly pedigreed grandkids. It’s all bullshit!”

  Mike laughed. “You’ve been hanging around with that girl again haven’t you? You sound like a bloody American.” His amused tone made me even angrier and by the look on his face, he knew that he had pushed me a step too far with his ribbing. “Look mate, don’t get so upset. You know I don’t mean any harm with Ginny. It’s just that…” he paused, as if trying to choose his words carefully… which was a smart move because I was close to blowing up on him, mate or not. “…I know you have feelings for her and I’m sure she’s a lovely girl. However, he is your father. You don’t get more than one of those in your lifetime, and you should be thankful for the one you have.”

  “It’s not that I’m ungrateful. I am extremely grateful. I just don’t want to live the cookie-cutter life that he’s decided on. I don’t want to become a bloody billionaire, marry some spoiled debutante and have children I hardly ever see. That’s not me and you know it, mate.”

  “T,” he took another drink of beer. “Have you tried explaining, I mean really explaining these things to your father?”

/>   I sighed; my body slumped over the bar as my hand curled around my fifth pint. After a few moments, I picked up my head and tried to get through Mike’s thick skull. “You know I have, Mike. He doesn’t want to hear anything about me living my life like a normal bloke. I’m an Armstrong, he says. And an Armstrong always has the best of the best of everything in life.”

  Mike put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. “I get it, mate. I can appreciate your pop wanting what’s best for you. I can also appreciate skirts that have no strings attached.” He laughed as he stood up and stretched, slugging down the last gulp of beer. “I’m going to head on home and get some sleep. We have to be at the site early tomorrow so you should probably do the same. It’s your first night back, we’ll speak more tomorrow.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right, mate,” I nodded, heavy-headed under the onslaught of thoughts that kept running through my brain. I gave Mike a final nod and left. I decided to walk home in order to give myself time to think, but when I arrived at my apartment, I was no closer to deciding on what to do than I was before.

  Opening a bottle of Scotch, I put it to my lips and drank, feeling the burn hit my throat all the way to my stomach. I fell into bed, not even bothering to undress and wrapped my arms around the pillow. If I thought really hard, I could pretend that the pillow was Ginny and I was holding her warm body. I finally fell into a restless sleep, promising myself I’d try Ginny again in the morning.

  It felt like only a few minutes later, but the sunlight streaming through my window told me it was afternoon already and I was late for work. I bolted out of bed and into the shower, cursing myself, my head pounding from all the drink. When I emerged, I checked my phone and saw a few missed calls and a voicemail from Mike. I turned on the speaker to my phone and listened to the message as I dried myself and threw on my work clothes.

  “Hey T, its Mike. Where are you man? We’ve been waiting here for you for hours and the—hey! Be careful with that thing! WATCH OUT!”

  The abrupt end to the message sent a chill through my body and I quickly called him back. His voicemail picked up, “Shit! Mike what happened? Call me!” I fumbled out a quick text message, my hands shaking so much, I dropped the phone. My stomach was in my throat as I picked it up and called him again. “Mike, call me, what the fuck is going on?” Something happened and I had to find out. He never let my calls go to voicemail. “FUCK!”

  I grabbed my keys and rushed out the door. I was in the elevator when my phone rang. Without thinking, I hastily answered it. “Mike, what the hell is going on? What happened?” It wasn’t Mike, or any of my crew. It was my father.

  “…Son, there’s been an accident.”

  Chapter 10 — Ginny

  A few days had passed since Tristan left and the pain in my soul was raw. I’d beaten myself up time and time again for letting it get that far, but the night he pinned me against the wall and fucked me with such lustful desire, I knew I was in too deep. I wanted to cry, scream and yell. To find something to take away the hurt and fill the huge hole he’d left inside me. Kari tried many times to get me to open up, but I didn’t want to talk to her about it. Not yet, anyway. I couldn’t stomach the idea of saying the words that had been running through my mind over and over again like a friggin’ scratched CD. Engagement party. Engagement party. Engagement party. I sure as hell didn’t want to face the fact that Tristan had a fiancée who was probably far more accomplished and attractive than I could ever dream of being.

  I woke up like I was supposed to, went to work and focused on filing, researching and fact-checking like I was supposed to and I even had to remind myself a few times to breathe… like I was supposed to. I went to dinner with Kari on the second week of silence; she wanted to cheer me up and I tried to be as upbeat as I could for her sake but all I did was push my food around the plate for an hour, pretending I wasn’t hungry.

  I was empty, a shell of my former self. I knew Kari was growing more worried by the day, but I couldn’t seem to make myself go through the pain of dissecting the last night Tristan and I spent together. I couldn’t believe that someone who would kiss me with such fervor and whisper my name with such passion could actually love another woman.

  The next day at work, the sound of Kari’s voice, softly pitched and full of concern made me fidget nervously in my chair. “Has Tristan emailed you?” and although I know she meant well, I didn’t want to answer her question and tried to pretend that my focus on work hadn’t wavered.

  “Yeah he—” I swallowed hard. “He emailed me this morning…and yesterday…and the day before that.” Kari looked surprised so I barreled on. “Last week, and no, I haven’t answered him. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to make myself feel anything other than an idiot for believing we could be together long-term when it’s obvious he was just using me as a plaything for whenever he’s here on business.”

  For once, Kari couldn’t say anything to comfort me. I knew she’d never really liked Tristan that much, and the thought that maybe she’d agreed we just couldn’t work it out was enough to send me running to the restroom. I couldn’t hold back the tears. A few minutes later, I heard the door open and when I looked up, Kari was standing there with a huge bouquet of roses in her arms and a determined look on her face.

  “These are for you, bathroom stalker.”

  “From who? Did you do this to make me feel better?” I scoffed, hoping she hadn’t spent so much money on me.

  “Me? Pffft! I couldn’t afford these fucking Columbian roses on my salary.” She fished out the card from the array of flowers and handed it to me. “Here. Open the card.”

  I took a deep breath, it had to be Tristan, no one else I knew would’ve even thought to send me roses, not even for my birthday or Valentine’s Day and especially not on a regular Friday.

  Kari placed the bouquet on the counter, waiting for me to open the card. I turned away from her and pulled it out, wanting to see it before I had to show it to her.

  “C’mon Gin, what does it say? Is it from Tristan?”

  “It says… ‘I need you’. And he signed it ‘T’”

  ”Well that’s short and sweet, straight to the point. He needs you Gin. He didn’t say want, he said NEED.”

  I tried to stuff the card back into the envelope but Kari caught my hand and grabbed it. “Nope, let me see this.” Her lips moved as she read the three words, then she looked up at me and said, “Look Gin, I’m not going to lie. At first, I hated Tristan. I hated him for taking my best friend away, and I hated that you were so wrapped up in someone who lived halfway across the world.” She hesitated, her eyes started to tear. “But looking at you two, watching the way you guys looked at each other, the way he genuinely seemed to care about you…I knew I had to let you be happy.” She wiped her nose on her suit sleeve, and sniffled. “Gin, don’t give that up just because you think you aren’t worth it.”

  “But Kari I—” God, I didn’t want to make her cry, too. One of us in a teary funk was enough for one day.

  “No buts!” Kari grasped me by the shoulders, shaking me slightly. “He’s into you Gin. Absolutely, positively fucking into you and you are about to make the biggest fucking mistake of your life. The man is emailing you, Skype messaging you and now you just got million dollar roses that say ‘I NEED YOU’. Don’t be so fucking stupid!”

  We both cried. I desperately wanted to believe Kari and I wanted to be with Tristan, but with his family so posh and arranging marriages, I knew the only way I’d be able to figure out what I really wanted, or could have for that matter was to at least answer Tristan’s email and talk to him myself. I fixed a watery smile on my face before turning my gaze back to my friend.

  “Okay, you’re right. I need to talk to him.”

  “Of course I am,” Kari patted me on the arm. “Now, splash some water on your face and get back out here. We still have an hour of work left and I won’t be able to focus on any of it with you still wallowing. Plus…” Kari paused, her face
looking a bit unsure before she took a deep breath. “Plus… I met someone, and I need you to be okay enough so you can meet him and we can figure out whether things will work out with him or not.”

  I stood there stunned; my heart beat wildly at her confession. A small bolt of jealousy ran through me at the thought of her finding someone, but I quickly trampled that feeling when I thought of the pep talk she’d just given me about Tristan. I did as she said, splashed some water on my face and straightened my shoulders before picking up the heavy bouquet and exiting the bathroom. That talk must have been all I needed, because the remainder of the workday went by far faster than I’d expected. Soon enough, I was walking up the driveway to my house.

  When I got to the door, there was a small package on the step. It was small enough that I didn’t think it would be a bomb, but I didn’t remember Kari or me ordering anything online, either. I set the roses down and picked it up gingerly, praying it wouldn’t explode. It could’ve been from psycho Brad. The box had my name on it and it was from The Belmont, the same fancy hotel where Tristan stayed when he was here. My heart did a few somersaults in my chest and I opened the front door, picked up the roses and walked into the kitchen setting everything down on the counter.

  I had a flash back of Brad the Stalker so I hurried to the door and shut it, locking it behind me. I didn’t want this day to get any more complicated than it already was. I went back into the kitchen where the little box was and stared at it for a minute. I picked it up and shook it, turning it over and over in my hands, trying to think of what it could possibly be. Taking a deep breath, I ripped it open and almost choked when I saw the edge of the small velvet box.

  I crashed down onto the couch and hot tears once again rolled down my cheeks. I couldn’t believe it. The box contained the antique earrings Tristan had given me on our last night together. I sat there sobbing, holding the box and thought of the few days we’d spent together. The beach, how he was so embarrassed when he came in my mouth, his dad, dinner, the way he took me against the wall…everything. The few memories we’d already made were sloshing around in my brain.