Love Reflection (Entwined Hearts #1)
Page 4
I snap back to reality when Con grazes the side of my face with his thumb. We just stare at each other. He’s trying to read me again and I can see the undertone of lust in his eyes. I pull back.
“Con, I need to shower,” I whisper. He doesn’t let go. His eyes show signs of a silent battle he’s fighting. Slowly he releases me and I walk toward the bathroom.
“Pea,” he calls after me. I turn around. “Pea, I’m sorry I shouted. I was angry because you put yourself in danger.” I go to open my mouth, but he starts talking again, “I know Soph knows this guy and he didn’t try to kill you, but I was scared. So maybe… maybe, I reacted badly by shouting, but I’m always going to worry about you.”
I let that wash over me not really knowing what to say and I settle on, “It’s fine, Con, don’t worry. I’m going for a shower, will you be here when I get out?”
“No Pea, I’ve got to go. I wanted to tell you tonight after the party but didn’t see you, so that’s one of the reasons I came over tonight,” he quietens down almost to a whisper and I can feel my heart beating fast. I know I’m not going to like what he has to say. “I’m leaving in two days to go on assignment over in New York. Apparently the new owner of the paper is American and while he’s living here he wants full stats on all US sports, so they want me to go.”
“But, but, but,” I’m stuttering now, “they can’t just expect you to drop everything and head to the States!” I hear my voice rising.
“Yeah Pea, they can. It’s written into my contract.”
“What about Stacey?” As soon as it’s out of my mouth, I know I have confusion written all over my face. I have no idea why that came out.
Con chuckles. “Stacey and me are casual, Pea, you know that. I only do casual.” He looks into my eyes daring me to say something to the contrary.
“Oh!”
“Oh? That’s it? That’s all I get?” He looks hurt.
“No, I mean, yes. I mean...” I falter.
“What do you mean?” he sounds irked now.
“I meant, oh as in I didn’t realise you and Stacey were just casual. I thought… well, I mean… I thought as you’ve known her for years…” I let the question die on my lips.
He just stares at me with narrowed eyes. “So, you’ll be fine while I’m gone?” he spits.
“Hey Con, calm the fuck down. What do you want me to say?”
“Well, a little emotion wouldn’t go amiss.”
I take a few deeps breaths. The last thing I want to do is have him leave the country after we’ve had an argument. Although that does seem to be our ‘thing.’
“Con, I’m emotional, but I try not to show it for your benefit. I’ll be fine while you’re gone and you know why?” I pause and look at him he’s still glaring so I push on, “Because you have to go. You don’t have a choice. Sometimes the things that we have no control over make us the best kinds of people. And anyway I’ll be right here when you come back.”
He stares at me for a long moment, blinks slowly then turns on his heels and stalks out of my house without so much as a backward glance.
I stand stunned for a moment, then gather myself together. Once I’m in the shower, I let the tears fall freely, knowing they’ll be washed away with the dirty water. I close my eyes and let my mind wander while I think of things I usually try to keep boxed away in my mind...
After riding back to the hotel in an awkward silence, we left the cab and entered the hotel. Having already been here for three days, I had my hotel room and so only the two of them needed to book in.
I wandered over to the gift shop looking through the window.
“So are you going to tell me what the fuck’s going on?” Saul spoke low in my ear.
“Saul don’t start!”
“Don’t push everyone away, Pea. I know something isn’t adding up here and I will find out.”
“How about your best friend fucking some slut while telling me he loves me!” I could hear the venom in my voice that wasn’t really meant for Saul.
“Sweetheart, I’ve tried to tell you that wasn’t what it looked like.”
“The fuck it wasn’t!”
“Honest. Look, I’ve promised Con I would explain to you what happened.”
“Then you’re going to break your promise, Saul James! Either that or you can get your arse back on the next plane home, ‘cause I’m not buying your shit today.”
“Tomorrow then,” Saul murmured as Soph strutted over.
“Hey, this place is lush!”
I sighed. “I’m tired. How about we go back to our rooms, you two can unpack and we’ll meet down here in two hours? That’s enough time for me to relax then we can snag a sun bed each and laze around the pool all afternoon.”
“Sounds good!” Soph answered whilst simultaneously fluttering her eyelashes at some guys across the lobby.
“Let’s go!” Saul ordered and Soph snapped her head to him.
“Calm down moody! We’ve just arrived on holiday, lighten up!”
“You’re right, Soph. Sorry.” He looked at her and his face softened.
Oh my God! I couldn’t believe I’d never seen it before! I mentally kicked myself for always being too wrapped up in myself to see what was obviously in front of my nose, and between my two best friends. I knew I needed to get my head straight and sort things out. That’s why I needed to talk about what had happened.
As we walked to the lifts, I whispered to Saul, “I’m in room 228 on the top floor. Come by in half an hour and we’ll talk”.
I look around the airport and wonder where all these people are going. I can see families and people on business, friends and couples.
I sit down near the boarding gate for my flight. I know it’ll be a long one and I’m not looking forward to the hours ahead of me, knowing the whole time I’ll be revisiting the past twenty-four of them.
What a bellend.
Sometimes I wish I could go back and change things. To be able to take the many looks of hurt, despair and complete heartbreak away that I’ve seen in her eyes over the years. I don’t think she even realises how much her face portrays. She tries to hide herself away. Even the lucky few of us who actually get to see her, get to know her, don’t get all of her.
It’s my fault.
It’s always been my fault.
Everything stems back to the time she found me in bed with that girl. She never asked what had happened. Never let me explain. It’s all been brushed away, like it never existed, taking everything that was us with it.
The problem is when she left, she took my heart with her. I’ve never moved on. Maybe it’s time to. Maybe New York is just what I need.
I just wish I was looking forward to this new experience instead of worrying about how we left things, or the haunted look she had in her big chestnut eyes that I can’t stop thinking about.
Maybe distance will help us both.
One week. One week and not a word.
I know we didn’t part on the best of terms and I also know it’s happened before, but I thought this time things would be different. I guess this time it’s me who’s left behind and so I see things from a different perspective.
I wonder what he’s doing.
I know I’m stubborn… pig-headed, Con would say if he were here. I just cannot see past the fact that I didn’t do anything wrong. I know he wants me to be upset because he left, and I am, I just couldn’t show him that. I wanted him to go and enjoy himself. I wanted him to go and live to his full potential while he’s out there. Not be missing me. I guess I always assumed it would come to a head. I mean, I’m not lying to myself anymore, trying to pretend I don’t see how Con still loves me. The way he looks at me. It burns in my chest when I catch him staring. I just have too much baggage that he doesn’t even know about.
Our baggage… which is even worse!
Still, it’s hard. We talk practically every day. The last time we had a gap longer than a few days was when I went abroad after his alleged i
nfidelity.
This is no good for me though, sitting about moping. My life is in this situation because of me. Nobody else. It falls squarely on my shoulders, so I just need to stand up straight, wind my neck in and get on with it.
I pull my mobile phone out of my bag and decide to address the two texts I’ve been ignoring for the last few days.
Cheryl: Just sending you a ‘check in’ text. I haven’t seen you all week. Is everything ok? Everything is the same here. No change.
I tap out a quick reply.
Me: Thanks Cheryl. I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot of things on my mind, but that’s no excuse. I will be over tomorrow.
I exhale the breath I didn’t realise I was holding in. Now to look at text two.
Dane: Hey sweetheart. Was hoping we could catch up for dinner soon? I know a nice place.
I stare at the phone and wonder how to reply, then I think ‘fuck it.’
Me: Sure. Sounds like fun!
Almost immediately, I get a response.
Dane: Finally decided to answer me then ;-)
Me: Emoticons… really?
Dane: I thought all you women find them cute? Was I misinformed?
Me: You’re right, unlike your cat story which is all kinds of wrong however, I’m not like other women. They just don’t do it for me.
Dane: Damn! I’ll have to think of something else! How about tonight? I’ll pick you up at seven?
I stare at the screen for a minute, maybe two, because the next thing I know there’s another text.
Dane: It’s just dinner Pea, nothing more.
He was right, I am being ridiculous. As usual.
Me: Yep, you’re right, tonight at seven. Come pick me up ;-)
Dane: Was that an emoticon on your last text?
Me: Nope, I misspelled the word later.
Dane: Yeah, I believe you!
Me: See you later.
Dane: Looking forward to it.
I take a moment to stare at the phone and re-read the texts. I ponder as I’d done last time I was with him. What it is about him that makes me feel so comfortable. I feel like I can tell him all my secrets, like I can trust him to look after me. Like he knows me. It’s calming and slightly unsettling at the same time.
I glance at the clock and realise it’s nearly 12.30 and my shift at the hospital starts at 1.00pm. “Shit!” I mutter to myself. I run upstairs to the bathroom, glad that I had a shower installed last year. Something Gran never saw the benefit of.
I love my bathroom.
I say my bathroom as I’d had it redecorated last month for me. Just me. I don’t do elaborate things very often, especially when they’re costly. I saved for the bathroom renovation. I kept the kitchen like it was when Gran was here as that was the heart of this house. Her heart. She gave me that.
The rest of the house I’ve been trying to decorate as and when, but the bathroom I wanted for me… needed it actually. It’s my space. Where I go to think… really think. My friends know I space out and go into my own head quite often. What they don’t realise is that what they see is only about ten percent of what I do. In the past, I’ve regularly been found by Gran in the bathtub nearly two hours after I’d gotten in, with cold water surrounding me. This is one really good reason for me to have a shower. I used to worry about my timeouts, as Gran called them. Worrying I was disturbed in some way. Never having seen any other children daydream for so long. I’d spoken to Gran about it once.
“Don’t worry, petal, your mum used to do it too, it’s a sign of an overactive brain. See your brain is so big and always on the go that sometimes it needs a power-down. That’s what happens, your brain needs a timeout.” She’d smile and hug me, and I’d be enveloped in her perfume, hairspray and love. I never worried when Gran was here. Only when she was gone, did I really turn into the sorry state I am now.
I look at my bathroom and feel calm. There’s a basic but modern white bathroom suite, including a bath. Huge white tiles cover all the walls, and a white tiled floor. The floor is like marble, not great because it’s slippery, but I just love it. It’s the little details I adore though. There are glass tiles up one side of my shower’s outside wall, all different coloured glass squares, these squares are also dotted about the walls of the bathroom in no particular pattern. There is multi-stack shelving with various coloured towels to match the tiles and a heated towel rail for warming the one I’m using at the time. Buying expensive, big, fluffy towels was just another extra that I wanted to splurge on and it was definitely the right thing to do. I jump into my big two person shower. I’ve never been sure why I decided to have a big shower, except that the bathroom, like all the rooms in this house is a large size so it seemed appropriate. The jets wash the day from me and give me some pep for facing people who really need it.
After showering, I run the comb through my wet hair before twisting it into a bun and throwing on my uniform then grab my bag and run to the bus stop to see the bus coming around the corner. I make it and settle in for my ten-minute journey. If you’d have told me ten years ago that I’d be able to get showered and dressed and leave the house in a little over fifteen minutes, I would have laughed in your face.
When I arrive at the hospital I rush inside, pop my bag in the locker room and run to the desk. Sinking into my chair so heavily that it swivels, I watch as Chloe arches an eyebrow at me from the next seat. Chloe, she’s harmless enough, but she doesn’t like me. I know that much. I’m not sure if it’s me that she doesn’t like, or the fact that I only work doing the same job as her on a part-time basis and as she does it full-time. Maybe that makes her feel superior to me? I think it also annoys her that I get on with our line manager better than her, and that I’ve been given the opportunity to evolve from this role and she hasn’t, although she wouldn’t want the job I was offered anyway.
I work at the reception desk at the hospital. It’s mainly private patients, with the odd emergency that comes here until the person is stabilised enough to go to the NHS hospital. We have a surgical department and everything, just like a normal hospital, but for the rich. Well, that’s what my tagline reply always is when people ask me about it.
There was a point when I thought I’d work in the local supermarket forever. If things hadn’t changed, hadn’t gone so wrong, I might not have pushed myself to be in this position right now. Every cloud and all that. Hmm, but then I wouldn’t have been the wreck I am today. Scratch that. That’s just a barefaced lie. I was a wreck long before then.
When I first started working here, I decided to go for a wander to familiarise myself with the hospital layout. Being on the reception desk you always get people coming in asking you where certain departments were. As I was wandering around, I went into my own head a little and got slightly off track. I realised I was in the ward where the elderly patients were. I quietly walked about and noticed something. It was quiet. Not peaceful quiet… deathly dull quiet. It was visiting time and nobody had any visitors. It was a very sad and almost suffocating environment.
I walked into the nurses’ station and asked them why nobody had visitors. One answered that most of the patients had children who work sixty hours a week. They often had no visitors. It made me extremely sad. These people had all the money, but no family and no love. It made me think of Gran and that made me almost crumble. Instead, I decided I needed to do something. After about a week of working at the hospital and getting the feel for my job, I’d finish my shift, and then go to that ward and sit with the patients. Sometimes they would talk, sometimes they would just listen. Sometimes they asked for stories and sometimes they just wanted to know someone was there. But it gave me a light that I hadn’t had in so long. It gave me spark and some purpose.
That was months ago now and I still love doing it. After lots of regular visits and the nurses all getting to know me, I was approached by one of the administrators who had been tipped off by my line manager. She said they were looking at ways of helping their elderly patients’ recuperate and i
nteract. Since I’d been visiting regularly, they’d seen an increase in patient mobility and recovery times had gone up. Now I didn’t think that was solely to do with me, but I did know that a little care and attention goes a long way. So she offered me a secondary position alongside my current role. One where I could continue to interact with the patients, but in a more formal capacity and I’d be paid for it.
Of course, I jumped at the chance. It helps that now I’m placed exactly where I want to be when I pushed to work here. Now I’m nearer to him. Even if they want me to stay away.
I’ve been doing both jobs ever since, but I like to work on a part-time basis for both. I don’t think I could ever be tied down to a full-time job. I like to feel like my life is my own. Like I make the decisions and this is one I wouldn’t change for anything. So I don’t earn loads of money, but I have enough to manage. The only thing I regret is not going to college. I would love to obtain a degree in social care. Now I’m an adult I’d have to pay for tuition and I just can’t afford it. I keep saying I’ll do it in a few more years. Get the house decorated first. Pay the credit card bill off. Set up a pension. All the smart things. I know by that time I’ll probably feel too old, which I know is silly, but the idea of going to college with a group of nineteen-year-olds doesn’t sit comfortably with me.
Today isn’t one of the days I sit with the elderly patients. Today is just the reception desk job.
Chloe looks over at me. “Just in time again, Pearson. Don’t you think it’s about time you got a car?”
I feel a sweat form across my brow at just the mention of that idea. “It’s not going to happen, Chloe. Anyway there’s almost no point in having a car when everything I need is in reach.” I brush her off with a fake confidence that brooks no argument.