by Caragh Bell
‘I haven’t eaten properly in days,’ she said between mouthfuls. ‘My throat was so sore.’
‘Craig invited me over to dinner last night. He cooked some curry. It was actually nice enough.’
‘Oh?’ Lydia grated some parmesan onto her pasta.
‘Luca was in such a bad mood. He joined us for a while and then went out.’
‘More bread?’ Lydia brandished the breadbasket in front of her friend.
‘Then, when we were in bed, we heard him come in and he wasn’t alone.’
Lydia’s mouth dropped open.
‘Yeah, it wasn’t great – the noise from his room was deafening. In the end, I had to tell Craig to go and sort it.’
Lydia suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore. She didn’t need to ask what the noise was. Why did this revelation knife her in the heart?
‘He’s a strange one, though. Remember his behaviour in Austria? The way he treated Jess?’
Lydia nodded wordlessly.
‘So, have you seen Colin since you got back? He dyed the tips of his hair blonde again.’
Lydia’s brain was reeling. She barely heard Samantha and her tales of Colin. Instead, she felt sick to her stomach at the thought of someone else with Luca. Why was everything so complicated? She should be glad that he was moving on. What did she expect? She had ignored his calls and basically cut him out of her life. Then why did it hurt so much? Why did she want to tear his hair out?
‘Lydia?’ Samantha was looking at her in concern. ‘You’re so pale, are you okay?’
She took a deep breath. ‘I’m fine. Sorry, I think I ate too fast. I mustn’t have completely recovered yet.’ She plastered a smile on her face. ‘Let’s watch a movie later.’
Luca didn’t turn up at lectures at all the next week. Each day Lydia steeled herself for an appearance, but none came.
A part of her was disappointed. She missed him. She wanted to see him, to hear him speak, to hear his laugh. Then another part of her was relieved. Confrontation wasn’t her thing; she didn’t want a scene.
She stopped checking Facebook in case she came across pictures of him with other girls in her News Feed.
Going cold turkey certainly worked. When she didn’t think about him, she could manage.
Not seeing him in the flesh helped this along nicely. His physical presence was what she couldn’t resist.
One low point was when she finally unpacked her bag from Paris which had been thrown in the corner of her bedroom. When she took out her Cosmo magazine, his drawing of her slid out.
In a flash she could feel his touch, feel his breath on her skin. Closing her eyes, she savoured the moment.
Should she throw it away? Of course she should.
Instead, she folded it carefully and hid it in her Proust book. It would always be a reminder, hidden away in le temps perdu.
Oh, how she wished Dominic was back. He was due home the end of next week. She craved to see him, to hold him, to reconnect with her life. They could go off on their mini break and start again.
Luca stared miserably at the TV screen.
Everything sucked. He couldn’t focus on anything. All he could think of was her.
Who did she think she was, anyway? Screwing around with him like that?
She had been so perfect in Paris, so happy and free. He had almost believed that she was falling in love with him.
Love.
What a strange word.
Was he in love with her?
He had always believed that once he had her, she would be out of his system. He would move on and not want to go back.
This was not the case.
Instead, he wanted more. So much more.
Yet, she was unwilling to give and that was what he could not handle.
What could he do? Kidnap her? Hold her hostage until she admitted she was in love with him?
He knew why she was shutting him out. She was guilty. Deep down, she was not capable of playing around. She was different to him; she had morals. He wanted to be like her. He wanted to do things right.
If only he could get to see her before Dominic came back.
Impossible.
She wouldn’t answer any calls.
Maybe if he waited for her after a lecture.
That wouldn’t work either. Colin would be there.
He could call over, but Sam would be there.
He crumpled the can of beer in his hand.
What would get her attention?
Then the penny dropped.
Of course, why did he not think of it before?
Lydia’s phone buzzed as she walked down the street to her flat.
Need 2 see U. Going to tell everyone.
She stopped dead. He couldn’t be serious. That would be catastrophic. She texted him back immediately.
R U crazy? Don’t U dare!
She felt her face go red in anger. How dare he threaten her like that?
Meet me at our tree at 4
She bit her lip. She really couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. Imagine the chaos if he did that!
With a heavy heart, she realised that she had no choice.
See U there
She was waiting for him, her face guarded.
He loped up towards her and smiled. She did not reciprocate.
‘Pretty fucking childish, Luca. I’ll give you that.’
‘Well, it worked.’
She scowled. ‘So, what is it you want to say? I don’t have much time.’
He threw his bag on the ground and faced her.
‘I’m in love with you.’
She took a sharp breath.
He stared at her, unabashed.
‘What?’ It came out as a whisper.
‘I said I’m in love with you. I can’t be without you. I want you to break up with Dominic and move in with me.’
‘Have you lost your mind?’
‘No. It’s my first time saying this to anyone. It took me a while to figure it out, but it’s true. I love you.’
She put her head in her hands. ‘This is a disaster. What am I going to do?’
‘Be with me. I know that you want to. You just won’t admit it.’
‘Stop!’
‘You are in love with me too. You are just guilty about Dom and are doing some martyr shit to make yourself feel better. Be honest with yourself, Lyd.’
Her eyes were haunted when she met his gaze. She pulled her jacket tightly around her.
‘I want you to come with me: back to America. You could write, even enrol in a school over there. Whad’ya think?’
‘No.’
‘Lydia, I’m not letting this go. You have to start facing shit. You have to follow your heart.’
She collapsed onto the ground.
When she opened her eyes, she saw his concerned face over hers. It reminded her of that day on the piste.
‘Holy shit, Lyd. Are you okay?’
She nodded. She struggled to sit up. ‘I feel light-headed. Maybe I’m still sick.’
He pulled her into his arms. ‘Rest a while. Just relax.’
He started stroking her hair.
He smelt so good, so familiar. She could hear his heart beating furiously.
‘I need to go home.’
‘I’ll take you. Come on, lean on me.’
He pulled her to her feet. She was grateful for his strong arms holding her up. It was the strangest feeling.
When they finally reached her flat, she paused.
‘I’m okay from here. Sam will be home in an hour.’
His eyes burned. ‘Please consider what I said. Please.’
She leaned up and kissed him softly on the lips. He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek against hers, relishing the moment.
‘Don’t think that you don’t mean anything to me,’ she murmured against his jaw. ‘In another world we would be so perfect together. I just can’t destroy lives. I can’t handle it.’
He leaned in and took possession of her
mouth again.
‘No, don’t,’ she protested, moving away. ‘Don’t.’
His eyes were cloudy with desire. ‘Let me come in.’
Every part of her wanted to. Every fibre in her body screamed to let him in.
‘I can’t.’
‘This isn’t over.’
She kissed him again, one final time. ‘Goodbye, Luca.’
She stepped in and closed the door.
Chapter 39
A few days later Colin burst into the Old Bar, his cheeks red with excitement.
‘Val got the part!’
‘The part?’ Samantha looked confused. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Hamlet! The lead role. He got it!’
Lydia sipped her drink. ‘That’s wonderful, Col. He must be thrilled.’
He nodded furiously. ‘He didn’t think the audition went well, but obviously it did. I mean, I told him he had it in the bag. Hamlet spends most of the play procrastinating; Val is the king of procrastinating, but in his case it’s ‘to wear or not to wear’. I spend my life waiting for him to choose a bloody shirt!’
‘Is he coming out to celebrate?’ enquired Samantha.
‘No, he’s at home practising his soliloquies. He’s so serious when it comes to his craft.’
Samantha opened a packet of crisps. ‘So, how long before opening night?’
‘A couple of months. I don’t envy him. There are a lot of lines. Shakespeare’s longest play apparently.’
Craig arrived, shaking the rain from his hair. ‘The weather is desperate,’ he complained.
‘Drink?’ Samantha got to her feet.
‘Not yet. Sit down, I have some news.’
Colin perked up. ‘Scandal?’
‘Luca is gone.’
There was silence. The colour drained from Lydia’s face.
‘Gone?’ Samantha looked confused. ‘Gone where?’
‘I think back home to the States. His room is empty. What’s weird is he didn’t even say goodbye.’
‘Did you text him? That’s very strange.’
‘I rang him, texted him and rang him again. Voicemail all the way. I presume he’ll get back to me.’
‘Maybe someone died or something,’ Colin suggested.
Lydia felt her chest constrict. He was gone. Why? She knew why.
Because of her. It had to be.
Craig got up. ‘I’m going to get a beer. Everyone okay for drinks?’
They all nodded. Colin nudged Lydia’s ankle with his foot and gave her a comforting look. She smiled wanly. If only he knew the whole story.
He was gone. Out of her life. Up to now, she was the one calling the shots. Now that the tables had been turned, she felt out of control. She was used to having him around.
Her head was spinning.
‘I’m going to head home,’ she announced suddenly.
‘Are you all right?’ Samantha looked concerned.
‘I’m fine. Just tired.’ She zipped up her coat. ‘See you later.’
Back in her room, she flopped on the bed.
So, that was that. The final nail in the coffin of their non-relationship.
Deep down she knew it was for the best; she could now concentrate on Dominic and repairing the damage, without the constant distraction and threat of Luca.
So then, why did she feel so bad? She had a pain in her chest. She felt empty, void. Had she underestimated her feelings for him? Was that his plan? To make her realise her true feelings?
She shook her head, banishing such thoughts. There was no future for them. End of story.
Her eyes filling with tears, she pulled her drawing out of the Proust book. Gently, she traced her finger over the lines on the page.
What did he say? That this was how she looked to him?
He loved her. She could see it.
The hardest part was that she loved him too.
Luca stared at the Monet on the wall. His grandmother sipped her coffee from a china cup and regarded him with concern.
‘Veux-tu parler? Tell me zee problème.’
He shook his head. Two days back in New York and already he was dying to go back. He thought that putting distance between them would help. Hell, it might even bring her to her senses.
His mother, busy preparing for her London show, had been of no help. His father, ever the workaholic, had nodded briefly to him as he swept past, en route to a gala dinner last night.
The only person remotely interested was Mimi, his beloved grandmother. She had invited him to her apartment overlooking Central Park for tea.
‘Luca, je m’inquiète. I am worried. Pourquoi t’es si triste? Tell me, mon petit.’
Again, he stubbornly shook his head. He knew that she would not approve of him falling for an Irish girl. It echoed his parents’ unsuitable marriage. It was no secret that she disapproved of Tara.
Eventually, he spoke. ‘It’s my thesis. I can’t get it together.’
She nibbled on a madeleine. ‘Why ees zees? You are a clever boy.’
‘I just don’t feel it. Do I have to finish it?’
‘Bien sûr. Our famille does not give up.’
He scowled. ‘I thought I could stay here for a while. Chill out with you. We could even take a vacation.’
She laughed. ‘Non, Luca. I think not. I am far too ancienne for that.’
‘Do I have to go back?’ His expression reminded her of when he was five and didn’t want to go to school. She steeled herself.
‘Oui.’
He got to his feet. ‘That sucks, Mimi. Totally sucks.’
‘You must go back and finish what you started. You may not, ’ow do you say eet? Queet?’
‘Thanks, Mimi. I got it from here.’ The door banged shut.
Central Park was busy. Luca stuffed his hands in his pockets and narrowly avoided a man on roller blades as he whizzed past. The icy wind blew and he winced. He had forgotten how extreme the cold could be.
He wondered what Lydia was doing. She was probably sitting in her pyjamas, watching some crap on TV. He couldn’t believe how much he missed her. It had only been a week and he thought about her all the time.
He had to get over this already. It really was a total joke. It was an alien feeling. He had never given a girl so much thought.
Mimi would freak if he didn’t go back and finish the goddamn degree; that much was plain. It would mean seeing her again. Probably with Dominic.
He sat down abruptly on a wooden bench near the big black gates of the park entrance. Two girls walked past and smiled brilliantly in his direction. One of them was gorgeous: a blonde with long legs and a megawatt smile.
The old Luca would have jumped up and got her number in record time.
He looked at the ground in misery. She didn’t interest him. Nothing did.
Nothing, except Lydia.
‘Jacob, word on the street is that you’re back in town.’
Luca groaned inwardly. He should never have answered the phone.
Tyler Trenton: his best friend in high school. The guy he’d had his first beer with. The guy who had taught him how to roll a doobie. The guy who spent his life partying. Luca waited for it.
‘So, there’s this thing later? In Brooklyn? You should totally come.’
Luca closed his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was party. A house full of wasted people he didn’t know, drunk and high.
‘I can’t, buddy. I’ve got to spend time with Mimi, she’s organised all this stuff …’ He trailed off.
‘Fuck that, Jacob. You gotta come. It’s gonna be awesome. Tons of hot babes.’
‘Sorry, man. I’m beat. I still have jet lag or whatever.’
Tyler snorted. ‘Bullshit! What’s up? You sick or something?’
Luca paused. He struggled to think of an excuse.
‘No, that’s not it –’
‘Then I’ll pick you up at eight. We’ll have a blast.’
The line went dead.
Damn, thought L
uca, flinging his phone on the counter. How could he face an evening like that? He should never have taken the call.
Tyler was an hour late. Luca hoped that he had forgotten. He sat on the sofa watching some mindless reality TV show with the sound turned down. Mimi had cooked a delectable dinner of chicken stew with dumplings, but he had barely eaten a bite.
His heart sank when the doorbell rang. He opened the door to find his old friend looking the same as ever. His open freckled face beamed in delight.
Tyler and Luca had been like chalk and cheese. With his blond good looks and charming smile, Luca never had problems with the opposite sex. He had his pick of the cheerleaders all through school. When prom came around, he had a long line of girls desperate to be his date. Tyler, on the other hand, had red hair and freckles. However, his infectious personality and ability to make people laugh guaranteed his popularity during those tough teenage years.
‘Luca!’ He enveloped him in a massive bear hug. ‘I missed you, man.’
Luca thumped him on the back. ‘Can’t say the same, Ty.’ He laughed.
‘Hey, Meems.’ He waved at Luca’s grandmother, who was standing by the fireplace.
Luca smiled. He knew that Marcheline hated that name.
She gave Tyler a haughty look. ‘Bonsoir,’ she replied, stiffly. ‘Bonne soirée, Luca.’
‘See you later,’ said Luca, grabbing his jacket. ‘I sure as hell won’t be late.’
Tyler guffawed. ‘Yeah, right. Later, Mrs. Jacob.’
The door slammed shut.
‘You got wheels?’ asked Luca as they went out into the freezing cold air.
‘Nah, we can take the subway.’
‘Nice.’ Luca raised his eyes to heaven. Every fibre in his body told him to go home. He was not in the mood for this.
Tyler chattered incessantly as they travelled. He filled him in on all the news from the last few months. Luca nodded and made ‘oh’ sounds every now and then, but none of it interested him. His thoughts were filled with Lydia. Nothing else.
