When I feel calmer, I open my eyes and start to apply the mascara, but I’m still shaking so much that I nearly poke my eye, three times! Come on Coral relax! This doesn’t have to happen tonight! I keep repeating my mantra as I make the finishing touches. When I’m done, I take a satisfied look at myself, my skin is buffed and creamed, my hair has dried naturally, curling into soft waves and my makeup looks nice – Ok good!
Making my way back into the bedroom to get dressed, I feel a little annoyed at myself that I didn’t pick something up that’s, well...sexy! Even if it was just a silk pyjama set or something – But oh no, I was too chicken to do that, so I have my only decent pair of fitted dark blue sweats and my white support vest. Great!
I slip into a pair of lacy boy shorts, then my sweats. Pulling the vest over my head as carefully as I can so I don’t ruin my makeup, I suddenly get a random thought of Justin – “Why don’t you ever wear anything sexy for me? You know I like stockings and suspenders” I shake my head and push the thought of him away. Back then I was far too shy to do anything like that, wear provocative, sexy clothing. Now I wish I had, so I would at least have something to wear for Tristan…
My hands are shaking again. As much as I’m trying, I just can't seem to get rid of my nerves – Alcohol! – I decide that’s the key. Padding down the stairs, then down the next set, I make it into the kitchen – Maybe we need a mini fridge upstairs?
I walk over to the built in fridge and pull out the cold bottle of Chardonnay that I put in there yesterday. Luckily, I remembered at the last minute to bring a bottle opener with me.
I pour myself a small glass and glug it back in one go then I pour another. Placing the wine back in the fridge, I immediately feel it flooding my system. I really should have had lunch today. I have tried to eat, but nothing has any taste. It all seems so boring and bland.
I make my way back up the stairs to go and tidy up the mess I’ve left behind, just as I reach the door to the bedroom, I hear my mobile ringing.
I dash over to it and see that it’s Tristan.
“Tristan,” I gush, feeling a settling warmth flow through me.
“Hello beautiful.” I smile deeply. God it’s so good to hear his voice again! “Look, I know we said Pizza tonight but I fancy a steak. How about you?” My stomach grumbles in agreement.
“Yeah that sounds good, but may I remind you we have nothing to cook with.” I point out.
“I like the sound of that,” he says huskily, sending shivers down my spine.
“The sound of what?” I ask confused.
“You said ‘we’ have nothing to cook with,” he tells me.
“Oh,” I breathe.
“Yeah, oh!” he titters. “So I’ve checked it out and I can order at this Italian and pick it up when I get there. That’s if you want to eat straight away?”
“Yeah sure, I don’t mind.” I tell him, my stomach tightening – Jesus Coral that’s it, not tonight!
“You ok?” He asks sounding concerned.
“Yeah...just missing you, hurry up!” I tell him playfully.
“I will, see you in say…half an hour?”
“Ok,” I squeak a little high pitched and hang up…
I AM SAT OUTSIDE ON ONE OF THE BEAN-BAGS we bought on Tuesday. I’m really trying not to, but I’m counting the seconds down until he arrives, I wish he’d hurry up! I’ve nearly finished my second glass of wine and I’m feeling pretty wobbly, not a good impression to make. And the more I sit here, the more the nerves keep re-appearing, and my stupid leg won’t stop jigging up and down. I hear a noise behind me. I dart up, almost falling over, then I hear the front door shut.
“Coral?” Tristan calls out. My whole body relaxes in response to his voice. I close my eyes for a second savouring the exquisite feeling.
“In here!” I call my voice all raspy. I swallow hard and pull my hand to my throat.
As I walk into the kitchen I see him placing his bags down. Damn he looks good! He’s in a pair of light grey suit trousers, a crisp white shirt and a deep blue tie. He looks up with a smile on his face that immediately disappears – Uh-oh! Tristan marches into the kitchen, puts down the take-out bag and pulls me into his arms, squeezing tightly.
”What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice sounding husky and dry. God he smells divine!
“Nothing,” I lie and reach up to kiss him, Tristan reciprocates but he still looks concerned.
“You look nervous,” he tells me softly. “Should I be worried?” He asks.
I shake my head. “No, I just...I missed you,” I tell him wrapping my arms around his waist, leaning my head against his chest. Tristan tightens his hold on me and kisses the top of my head.
“I’ve missed you too,” he whispers.
“You sound thirsty.” I look up at his warm eyes and smile.
“Thirsty, hungry and in need of a shower,” he tells me. “You started without me,” he says gesturing to my glass of wine. Guilty as charged!
“Yeah…sorry about that,” I answer feeling all my fears from earlier coming back to the surface. Tristan frowns down at me.
“Hard day at work? Or a difficult session with George?” Is there anything he doesn’t know about me?
“Um...no, not really,” I answer honestly then castigate myself for it.
“Ok, you talk, I’ll get a drink.” I sigh heavily. Tristan walks over to the fridge and pours himself a glass of wine, then turns and gazes at me in a strange way. He walks over to me, places his wine down and runs his finger down my cheek.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, I frown – No way am I that! “You are,” he tells me firmly, as though he can hear my inner dialogue.
I laugh nervously in response, his frown deepens. “Coral’ –“Let’s eat,” I interrupt, “before it goes cold.” I walk over to the cupboard and take out two plates and two sets of cutlery – Thankfully we picked up a set on Tuesday, otherwise we’d be eating with our fingers!
Tristan is watching me, assessing me but thankfully, he doesn’t question me. Instead he opens the bag and starts dishing it all up, it smells so good.
When he’s done, I look down at my plate in wonder. I have peppered steak smothered with dianne sauce, chips, peas, mushrooms and half a grilled tomato.
“Where the hell did you get this from?” I ask in astonishment. Tristan has already started eating – He must be really hungry! – He smiles and taps his nose at me.
I chuckle and start eating, but each time I go to swallow my stomach tightens with nervous anticipation...
WE EAT IN COMFORTABLE SILENCE. I top our wine glasses up half way through the meal, I’m drinking far more than I should - I know that, but I’m hoping it’ll help me relax. Tristan has already finished, and is quietly watching me as he sips his wine.
“Why don’t you go shower,” I tell him. “I’ll be finished by the time you get back.” Tristan gazes at me for a moment then looks down at my plate. I’m eating so slowly tonight!
“Off your food?” He asks, I nod feeling awkward. Tristan stands and kisses my temple, then grabs his bags and makes his way up the stairs.
The moment he’s out of view I exhale loudly – Why do I feel so relieved?
I decide I don’t want to dwell on that too deeply and try to eat some more, but two thirds into my meal, I decide I’m too full to finish – I hate wasting food – I guess my stomach must have shrunk with not eating regularly. I stand feeling exhausted for some reason, and start clearing everything away.
Maybe it’s the adrenalin that’s been pumping through my system for hours? Or maybe it’s the wine? Or maybe it’s the fact that I have hardly slept at all? I just can’t seem to get Tristan out of my head, and the few hours sleep I have had, I’ve dreamt of him – Just as I’m washing the last plate, I hear Tristan coming down the stairs.
“That was quick,” I say breathlessly. He looks so good, he’s in a pair of loose black sweats that hang in the right way on his hips and a light grey vest, I haven’t seen
his bare shoulders before, they’re big, beautiful, and look very strong.
He quickly reaches me his scent knocking me for six, then, slowly he reaches out and takes my face in his hands. “Ok spit it out, why are you so nervous? Have I done something wrong, or not done something?” He looks really worried.
“No!” I bark feeling angry that he thinks that, but I can't get my words out either. The only way I feel I can explain it to him is to show him.
I move his wine glass out of the way and prop myself up onto the breakfast bar, opening my legs I pull on his vest so he reaches me. Then I wrap my legs around him and kiss him, hard.
Tristan moans in response. I feel his erection grow between my legs and freeze – Fuck! – I pull back from his lips, trying not to show him how much I’m panicking. But my breathing has escalated and my heart feels like it’s trying to break out of my chest – Fuck!
“What is it?” He whispers, trailing soft kisses down my neck.
“Tristan…stop!” I bark. His head snaps back up, our eyes locking onto one another. “I’m sorry, I can’t...” I move him out of my way, jump down off the breakfast bar and walk towards the terrace, but Tristan catches me, wrapping his arm around my waist, my back to his front.
“What was all that about?” He whispers in my ear.
I lean my head back against his chest and close my eyes. I feel stupid and angry and pissed off that I thought it would just naturally happen. I freaked out and I want him so badly – Fuck! What do I do? I hear George’s voice – Tell him Coral! I turn around and look up into his worried, anxious eyes. I stroke his cheek, his day’s stubble has disappeared, but now I’m really looking, I notice he looks tired.
“You look tired.” I say.
“Don’t change the subject. Tell me what’s wrong?” He orders in a deep, flat voice.
“No!” I bark. I can't tell him, I just can't.
“Coral, what just happened?” He pushes, I can tell he’s getting angry, frustrated. He takes hold of my upper arms and grips them tightly. “Tell me baby, you should know you can tell me anything,” he adds, his eyes pleading with mine.
And in that moment, I don’t know why, but all my fears, doubts, worries, and inhibitions come rushing to the surface – And I know…in that very moment, I know – I can't do this anymore. I mean, who have I been kidding? Myself that’s who! I can't do relationships, I can't do intimacy, and I can't do this – not anymore. I know I’m self destructing it, but I self destruct everything, people, places. The only thing I have ever held onto in a long term sense is my job.
I’ve even spent most of my life waiting for Gladys to leave, even though I know she loves me, deeply, and I love Tristan, more than I’ve ever loved anyone, which is why I have to go. I can't continue like this, knowing full well that one day I’ll just up and leave.
“Tristan, please let go of me.” He instantly releases my arms. “I can't do this,” I mumble staring down at the floor.
“Coral, please’ – “I have to go, I can't do this anymore,” I whisper, keeping my eyes fixed to the floor. If I look up at him I know I’ll stay and I can't, I can't do this to him, or me.
“Why?” he gasps. I shake my head unable to give him answer. “You’re just running because you’re scared,” he barks.
“Yes, I am scared. But I still need to go,” I croak.
“Coral, no, please…don’t do this,” his voice quivers.
“I told you Tristan…” I whisper. “Right from the start, I…” I shake my head unable to articulate my feelings.
“Please…Coral I don’t want you to go,” he whispers.
I frown at the floor. “I think it’s better this way, to leave now…before we get too involved.”
Tristan snorts sarcastically at me. “Too involved?” I look up at him he’s gripping his hair with his hands, a look of despair on his face. “I think we’ve gone way past that, don’t you?” he shouts.
“Tristan…” I close my eyes and try to get my words out. “You don’t….I’m not…” I break off again – Fuck!
“Baby….please, don’t do this…” He says, his voice trembling. He tries to reach out to me, but I take a catious step back.
“Please, Tristan, don’t make this any harder than it already is.” I look up at him, he looks broken, like the world is falling from beneath his feet, I instantly squeeze my eyes shut. “I have to go,” I whisper, and without looking at him, I turn around and make my way up the stairs.
Reaching the bedroom, I silently pack my bag. When I’m done I throw my weekend bag over my shoulder, grab hold of my handbag, stuff my feet into my trainers and march down the stairs – I feel numb. Reaching the kitchen, I take a hesitant look at Tristan. He’s sat on one of the bar stools, a deep frown etched into his features, totally lost in thought. I almost change my mind – No! Coral you have to leave, you’re not good for him!
The truth of the matter is that I’m not strong, and I’m not capable of this. I have nothing to offer him. Nothing but fears, doubts, insecurities, and now I know – I’m incapable of love.
I march over to him, take my keys out of my bag, unhook the set he gave me and silently place them on the breakfast bar. I take another hesitant look at him; he looks broken, totally and utterly broken. Tears swim in his eyes as he looks up at me – Oh fuck!
“Don’t go,” he croaks. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach. “I’m sorry,” I squeak and dash towards the front door.
I yank it open, close it behind me and speed walk down the driveway. Keeping my eyes fixed firmly ahead - I don’t stop, I can't stop, I won’t stop.
I WALK IN A ZOMBIE LIKE STATE all the way back to my studio. I feel nothing, just an empty hollow feeling that’s always been there. Only now it feels a thousand times more profound, more empty. Reaching my studio, I unlock the door step inside and let my bags fall to the floor - Coral, what have you done? - I ignore my own thoughts and make my way up the stairs. Reaching my bedroom I kick off my trainers and collapse on the bed. In one fail swoop the enormity of what I’ve just done comes crashing down on me and I howl in pain. What is this?
I grip my stomach trying to make the empty ache disappear – God, please make it stop! This is torture, I can't take it. I rock myself back and forth as I try to make it all go away. The pain I feel at never seeing Tristan again is indescribable, I feel it everywhere – In my head, my heart, my soul, my body, it even feels like it’s with me in the room – And I know that’s because he was here, in this place, with me. What have I done?
The right thing! I tell myself – I’m not good for him, I can't give him what he wants, what he deserves. I am not capable of this, of love – I’m a twisted freak.
I cry even harder as I digest these thoughts.
I grip the quilt closer to me, hoping it will bring me some sort of comfort, some solace, but it smells of him. I take in a deep ragged breath and I’m instantly knocked over by his scent, it’s deeply engrained in the quilt, which makes me howl even harder – Will this ever end?
I curl up into a ball and really let go, crying so hard I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to stop. I picture his face as I left him, so hurt, so broken….Tristan…
End of Part One…
Want to continue Coral & Tristan’s story? Keep on reading…
CORAL - Fallen
How far would you go to save the one that you love?
Deeply troubled and daunted by her past, Coral Stevens has decided to walk away, and broken off her deepening relationship with Tristan Freeman, but he’s not about to give up that easily. He wants her, he loves her, and he will do everything within his power to make her see that. Despite her fears, Coral cannot resist and begins to open her heart to Tristan, but the more she does, the harder it becomes for her to deny the truth to herself; that she has fallen deeply, and irrevocably in love with him. However, someone from Tristan’s past hides a dangerous secret, a secret neither one of them could have envisaged and one that could ultimately, lead to their demis
e. Driven by her love for Tristan, Coral has no choice but to face one of her deepest, darkest fears...
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Excerpt From Fallen…
AS WE REACH THE GATES TO THE HOUSE, Tristan turns and catches my hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. He pulls up outside the house, switches off the engine and turns in his seat. Feels very strange being back here, considering I only left a short while ago – I try not to panic.
“Ok?” He softly asks. I smile weakly at him.
I still don’t know if I’m doing the right thing here.
“Ok.” He nods his head once, almost as though he understood my unspoken answer, and steps out the car. Reaching my side, he opens my door and holds out both his hands. I place my hands in his and he gently pulls me to my feet. Then he bends down and swiftly kisses my forehead, shutting the door behind me.
“I’ll get the bags, why don’t you let yourself in?” I shake my head at him. I don’t want to go inside that house without him.
“Ok.” He reaches out and runs a cool finger down my cheek, calming me. Then he walks round to the boot, collects my bags and comes back over to me. I take his outstretched hand, and we walk to the front door – this feels so surreal.
Taking his key out he unlocks the door, and pushes it open, gesturing for me to go first. With trembling legs, I take a step inside the house, then another and another, until I’m stood inside the huge entrance hall.
I hear Tristan follow, shut the door behind him and drop my bag to the floor.
“Do you want anything baby?” I put my handbag down, take off my sunglasses, and slowly turn to look at him.
He puts his hands in his pockets and gazes back at me. He looks lost, very wary, and slightly uncomfortable. I hate that I’ve made him feel like this. He’s beautiful, and sweet, caring and attentive and I love him. Why the hell did I walk out on him?
CORAL (A Romance Trilogy, Book 1) Page 42
