CORAL (A Romance Trilogy, Book 1)

by Delaney, Clair

  I grab a cleansing wipe and clean up my face, being as gentle as I can with my tender nose. Then I clean my teeth, twice – Ah that’s feels so much better!

  Then I decide to try and unblock my nose, I can't breathe and I hate that feeling. I pull a load of toilet tissue off and blow gently, but it hurts so badly that I don’t risk doing it again, I sigh inwardly – I guess I’ll just have to put up with it being blocked. I slowly turn and shuffle back out of the bathroom. As I make my way over to the sofa, I notice the clock on the wall says 6.03am.

  Whoa! I must have slept all day and all night. Didn’t the paramedic say don’t sleep? I shrug, I’m alive and it was better than being awake and in that much pain. Reaching the sofa, I slowly sit down, then lie back and close my eyes. I try to recall what was going on before the accident.

  I was mad with Debs, I remember that, then I remember why – she already knew about Malcolm. Yes; I’m not happy with Gladys about that, we will be having words, plus Debs is moving, and she didn’t tell me. My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach, Gladys has lied to me and Debs has kept something important from me. It doesn’t make me feel very good at all, and it certainly doesn’t make me feel like I’m part of this family.

  I sit forward and grip my hands together, trying to understand why, it’s so frustrating feeling like this. Bob suddenly springs to mind, and I wonder if he got home ok? I’m sure Malcolm would have driven him back – Holy crap, the car journey over to Debs!

  I remember something about it, something important. I made a choice, a very, very important fundamental choice. I frown and try hard to remember, then it hits me – Tristan!

  Yes, yes, I remember now. I was going to call him, see if he got the house. Take him furniture shopping...tell him a little bit about myself, bit by bit – I hear George in my head and see his smile. Ok, ok so I guess I got my wish, but why was Tristan at the party? I try to recall again, then I remember, right before I collided with Lily, Tristan walked in with Joyce.

  So did Joyce invite Tristan? I shake my head, that doesn’t make sense, why would she do that, they don’t know each other that well, surely? Then I remember Tristan teasing me, asking if he could come to the party and me saying no, I was being a real pain with him then. That line of thought stops me in my tracks – How amazing, I feel so differently about him now; then I remember the dream. Yep, that’s what did it.

  Then I remember this morning and cringe with embarrassment - I couldn’t put him off now even if I wanted to.

  As I look down at my twisted fingers, I notice my winter blanket from my bed is neatly folded next to the sofa, with one of the pillows from my bed on top of it, I frown at them both wondering why they are down here.

  Did Tristan get them for me to use? I turn and notice my other pillow propped up behind me, it has dried blood on it (nice) and my quilt is all ruffled at the bottom of the sofa, I cock my head to the side. Did Tristan sleep on the floor?

  That’s unbelievable, and crazy, he must have been so uncomfortable. Why didn’t he just take me upstairs and sleep on the sofa, or use the bed with me? I scowl at my wayward thoughts. Tristan in your bed already? Coral you Ho! Well it’s not like we’d have been humping all night is it? I argue back at myself. I stop my thoughts right there, I’m in too much pain for my mind to be whizzing about like that. I just want food and some random animation, something to make me chuckle so I don’t curl up into a ball feeling sorry for myself.

  I slowly lie back down, resting my head on the pillow, and close my eyes, the gentle whirring of the air-con is making me feel sleepy, which I can't quite understand. How can I want more sleep when I’ve already had so much?

  The pain killers start to kick in and the throbbing starts to ease - slightly. I feel myself drifting off, just as I slip away, I hear my mobile buzz. I groan inwardly, not wanting to answer it and let it go to voice-mail. Just as I’m drifting off again, I hear it start buzzing - Grrrr! I get up far too quickly and the room sways, I sit back down for a moment and let my blood pressure adjust.

  When I feel like everything is where it should be, I find my bag on the kitchen side and fish out my mobile. I turn it over and see it’s Rob. I can’t press answer quick enough.

  “Rob, are you ok? Where have you been?” I whisper.

  “Sorry,” he mumbles gloomily.

  I shuffle back over to the sofa and gently sit down. “Rob, you’ve had me so worried! I’m really gonna kick your arse when I finally see you...and Carlos,” I add – I’m so mad at him too!

  “Coral…please,” he pleads. He doesn’t sound right.

  “Ok, ok. So…?” I say waiting for his explanation. What I don’t expect to hear is Rob burst into painful tears – No!

  “Rob!” I gasp. “W-what’s wrong?” It takes a few minutes, but he finally stops crying enough to answer me.

  “I j-just called to see how y-you are?” he chokes out.

  “What?” I ask totally dumbfounded.

  He sniffs loudly then continues. “I called yesterday to say happy birthday to Lily, Debs told me what happened to you. So are you ok?” he croaks, sniffing some more.

  “Better than you sound?” I answer softly. I’ve never heard Rob cry; whatever it is must be really bad. “Now tell me Rob, what’s wrong? Is it you and Carlos?” My leg starts jigging up and down, he starts to cry again. “Rob, you’re really scaring me,” I whisper.

  “Sorry,” he chokes, he sounds exhausted.

  Just at that moment Tristan comes through the door.

  “Rob, please tell me?” I squeak.

  “Another time.” He sighs sorrowfully.

  “No Rob now!” I bark. “You’re my best friend, why won’t you talk to me?” I ask bitterly. “We always talk about everything...please,” I plead. “Tell me.” I hear a funny noise in the background; sounds like an announcement at a train station, or an airport?

  “I have to go” Rob sniffs. “Bye.”

  “No Rob wait’ – He hangs up, I stare blankly at my mobile – What the hell was that about?

  I grit my teeth in frustration and go over the conversation again. He didn’t give anything away! How can I help him if he…?I hear him burst into tears again, which automatically starts me off. I close my eyes and try to fight against the tears that are now cascading down my cheeks…god damn you Rob, why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?

  “Coral!” Tristan gasps. I open my eyes and see his blurry figure dash over to me. He sits next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulder. I lean my head into the crook of his neck and try to choke back the tears – It’s official, I hate crying!

  Tristan squeezes me tighter, and kisses the top of my head. It feels very comforting; and I know in that very moment I’m so, so grateful to have him here with me.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispers as he holds me tight.

  “Rob,” I choke. “He was crying...I…I’ve never h-heard him cry.”

  “Any idea what it might be?” Tristan asks; his voice full of concern.

  “He w-won’t t-tell me,” I growl.

  “Want me to see if I can find out anything?” He softly says.

  “L-like w-what?” I choke, looking up at him through my watery eyes.

  “It’s easy to find information, just have to know what to look for,” he softly says, wiping a tear away with his thumb.

  “He’ll tell m-me when h-he’s ready,” I stutter and squeeze my eyes shut.

  It takes a while for me to calm down, the sound of Rob bursting into painful tears keeps replaying in my head. I’m so frustrated, how can I help him if he won’t talk to me? And now I’m starting to think Rob’s got into some sort of trouble? All the worst case scenarios my over-active imagination can come up with play over and over in my mind – Oh God, oh no, Rob!

  “Hey, hey…Coral, you need to calm down now. You sound like your hyperventilating,” Tristan says lifting my head up which is now in full scale – somebody’s got a gong next to it and is banging it repeatedly – mode. “Come on Cor
al, deep breaths.” Tristan hands me the box of tissues from my side table.

  I shake my head and shuffle out of his hold. “Help me to the bathroom?”

  Tristan is instantly on his feet holding his hands out to me. I place my hands in his and he pulls me to my feet, but the room sways again. So he lifts me into his arms, takes the few short steps needed, and places me down in the centre of my tiny bathroom.

  It’s a tight squeeze with the two of us in there. Tristan shuffles backwards until he’s outside the door. I glance across at him and see he looks so worried. “I’ll wait right here,” he tells me.

  “No,” I say waving him away. “Go eat before it gets cold.”

  “But’ – “No buts Tristan, I won’t be a minute.” I sniff. Ouch, that really fucking hurt!

  I wince in pain and shut the door, then grab a load of tissue and clean myself up - Ok, so crying seems to have cleared my nose. Grosse! – At least I can breathe now! I wash my tear stained face in the sink, then gently pat myself dry – Jeez, I feel exhausted and I haven’t even done anything! I hear Rob cry again in my head, I push back the tears that threaten to start up – God Damn you Rob!

  I take several deep breaths, and decide it can't be any of the really bad things I thought because Carlos would be worried and on the phone to me. So maybe it is those two?

  I shake my head at myself, I could be here all day trying to figure it all out. There’s nothing you can do about it Coral, come on, Tristan’s waiting for you! Yes, he is. I shuffle over to the door and yank it open. I’m instantly hit with the smell of freshly made pancakes and coffee. My stomach growls in appreciation.

  Tristan walks over to me and holds out his arms. “May I?” he asks.

  “I’m ok,” I croak and start to shuffle out. I feel like a god damn old woman! Tristan gives me his one hand to help balance me, and I gladly take it. “Thanks. Smells good,” I say with appreciation.

  “Tastes good too.” He says helping me to sit on the sofa; then he sits next to me.

  I see my pillow and quilt has disappeared and my coffee table is back to its usual place in front of the sofa. Tristan has laid out two plates, and there are knives and forks neatly placed on napkins, two tall take-out cups, and four Styrofoam white boxes, each has a small amount of steam oozing out of them.

  “Cappuccino for the lady,” he says handing one to me.

  “Thanks.” I say in appreciation.

  “Now, I got several different types of pancakes as I wasn’t sure which you would prefer,” he says gesturing to the four different boxes. “So there’ –“Pancakes?” I interrupt, purposely looking down-hearted.

  “Um...yeah,” Tristan shuffles slightly, looking very uncomfortable.

  “But I don’t like pancakes,” I squeak, trying my very best not to let the grin that’s pushing through appear on my face.

  “I...Oh!” Tristan deflates, he looks lost. I can't take it anymore, I bump his shoulder playfully.

  “Kidding!” I chuckle then stop – I shouldn’t have bumped him, my head bangs in protest.

  “Is your head really that bad?” He asks measuring my expression.

  “I think yours would be too, if you’d have had that happen.” I answer dryly.

  “True.” He smiles. “You had me there by the way,” he adds grinning widely.

  I smile back at him. “I know it was good right? You really believed me!” I chuckle then stop – The pounding really better stop soon! Tristan is looking concerned again so I quickly change the subject. “Good choice. I haven’t had pancakes in years!” I say cheerfully.

  Tristan carefully opens each box, then turns and smiles broadly at me. “Ta da,” he says playfully. “Found this place just by chance yesterday morning, I got here really early and I was starving, they are very good pancakes,” he adds, looking very pleased with himself. “So, you have a choice of Chocolate Chip, Buttermilk, Cinnamon or Blueberry?”

  “Wow!” I gaze down at the pancakes, they really do look delicious.

  “So which will it be Coral?” I decide to go for the safe option.

  “I’ll take a buttermilk one, thanks.” Tristan places one on each of our plates then takes the top off a little Styrofoam cup.

  “Maple syrup?” he asks, his head cocked to the side and a wicked glint in his eyes – Is he asking what I think he’s asking? I’m sure there’s a double meaning there. I stop those thoughts in their tracks, and clear my constricted throat.

  “Sure.” I watch him carefully drizzle a little syrup over each pancake, then I pick up my knife and fork and take a bite. “Mmm....delicious,” I say, my stomach seems grateful too.

  “They’re good right?” he says demolishing his in seconds.

  “Whoa! You must be hungry?” I say without thinking. I watch him take a Blueberry one and drizzle syrup on it.

  “What makes you say that?” he says between mouthfuls. I shake my head and carry on eating, too embarrassed to say. “Ah come on Coral, I think we’re passed all the evasiveness by now, don’t you?” He leans into me with pancake stuck to his fork, and playfully shoves it into his mouth. Ok I can do this!

  “Well I...sort of noticed on Tuesday that you, kind of, took your time with your food.” I answer quietly.

  “I was nervous.” He admits.

  “You were?” I gasp.

  “Yes.” Another mouthful, he quickly chews then swallows. “I so badly wanted you to say yes to a date, to something. It was putting me off my food.” Another mouthful, he quickly chews and swallows. “And I’m never off my food,” he adds thoughtfully.

  “Oh!” Is all I can say to that.

  “What about you Coral?” He asks, placing a chocolate pancake on each of our plates, then drizzling them both with syrup.

  “I...” I take a bite. “Wow, really nice too. Good job I don’t eat this kind of stuff too often, or I’ll turn into a big fat bloater.” Tristan chuckles.

  “So what about you?” He repeats, taking a drink of his cappuccino.

  “What do you want to know?” I ask.

  “You didn’t each much of your salad at lunch,” he tells me. “Off your food too?” he asks. How very perceptive of him and for some reason, maybe all my inner-dialogue, I answer truthfully.

  “Yeah...I guess I was,” I say shyly. “I was nervous too…a-about how I was already feeling about you. I didn’t understand it.” Ok too much information.

  I take another mouthful before I can really put my foot in it.

  “Do you understand it a little more now?” he asks. I instantly detect a hint of nervousness.

  “Yes.” I whisper nervously, and eat some more.

  “And?” He helps himself to another pancake, keeping his eyes locked forward.

  “I don’t know Tristan...what do you want me to say?” I try to think of something to tell him about myself. I come up with one thing and before I can stop myself from saying it, it’s out of my mouth. “I have a therapist.” Whoa! Shut up Coral, don’t tell him that yet!

  Tristan stops chewing and turns to gaze at me, I cannot look away from him. What is this power he yields over me? I feel like he’s looking straight through me again. As he continues to stare, I notice his eyes grow darker, and his jaw tense a couple of times, finally he looks away, picks up his cup and takes a long drink.

  I start breathing again, but my appetite has vanished - I knew it, I knew he wouldn’t like it. Tristan stops drinking and frowns down at his plate, his whole body seems to have tensed up.

  “Is the therapist helping you Coral?” He asks darkly.

  “Yes.” I whisper, feeling mortified I just shared that with him. “George is great…really, really great.” Tristan turns to me and half smiles, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “If you ever feel like you want to try someone else, just ask me Coral, I’ll pay for the best, whatever helps you.” He says almost tripping over his own words.

  “I...don’t...err...thanks Tristan, but George is who I want.” I say surprised at his openness. �
��You’re not freaking out.” I add.

  “Freaking out? Why would I be...?” I see the penny drop. “You think because of that I wouldn’t want to see you?” He asks a little high pitched.

  “I...well, yeah.” I admit shrugging my shoulders.

  “That’s crazy!” He says shaking his head.

  “Well I am seeing a shrink.” I answer dryly, hoping he’ll see the funny side. His head whips round, his face serious, then he sees my wide grin and automatically smiles back at me. I start laughing nervously, Tristan chuckles a couple of times then starts eating again.

  Feeling thankful that he hasn’t asked me anything about it, my appetite comes back, so I finish off the chocolate pancake, and help myself to a Blueberry one.

  “So can I ask you about that?” He asks, his voice cautious – Damn it!

  “Sure.” I swallow hard.

  “How long have you been seeing him?” He asks his expression serious.

  “Two years.” I answer.

  “How many times a week?” I catch him glance across at me, then quickly look away.

  “Ok, Tristan,” I stop eating. “Right now, my head is screaming at me that you’re asking these questions because you’re assessing if I’m right for the job. Is that the case?” I ask sternly.

  “No,” he scolds. “This is personal Coral. I’ve told you, your job is safe. This is just you and me, man and woman getting to know one another,” he adds running his hand through his hair. I think he’s frustrated.

  “Oh, ok.” I placate and take a bite of pancake, it’s really nice, but my appetites gone again. I put my cutlery down, pick up my cappuccino and curl my legs up onto the sofa.

  “That’s it?” He says. I frown back at him. “That’s all you’re going to eat?” he adds. I nod once and take a drink. His mouth sets into a hard line. “Two pancakes? That’s not very much considering you haven’t eaten for a couple of days.”

  I shrug. “I’m full.”

  “Somehow I doubt that.” He mutters to himself.

  “I’m sorry Tristan, I won’t ask about my job again. If you say I keep it, then I guess I’m just going to have to take your word for it. It’s just so hard to explain what it’s like being me, being inside my head. I always think the worst.” I sigh and take a drink. “What was your question?” I ask.