My Not So One Night Stand

by Rebecca Robertson

  Ignoring Luke’s pleas, I flung myself around his bedroom and began heaving on my top; the one I’d brought along with me for the purpose of redressing tomorrow morning after a delicious night spent having mind-blowing sex with the one man I thought I could rely on.

  Note the fucking sarcasm.

  "Please just let me explain,” he whispered, approaching me with caution. “I know you’re angry but don’t act rash. You’re not safe.”

  “No!” I replied, pushing on his chest when he got too close.

  “No?”

  “You heard me. I said no,” I bit back, looking him dead in the eye. “I can’t believe you did this.”

  “I made a mistake not telling you. I’m sorry.”

  “You can’t even bring yourself to apologise for paying him off, can you?” I spat, sensing the familiar build-up of tears. “I was gonna break up with him anyway, Luke. You could’ve just waited!”

  “I didn’t do it for that reason and you know it,” he scolded, disgusted at my insinuation. “And I’m not sorry about paying him to leave. I did it with good intentions and I stick by my decision. I just wish I’d told you.”

  “Why didn’t you?” I questioned, prompting the start of yet another discussion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It was never the right time,” he insisted, making me scoff.

  I mindlessly grabbed my bag and checked my phone was inside before I flung it over my shoulder in preparation to leave.

  “Do you remember when I found out Jake slept with me for a bet and I told you it made me feel like a prostitute?” I asked, to which he nodded. “That’s exactly what this feels like right now, only worse because instead of it being Jake who hurt me, it’s you. You put a price on my relationship with Dan, which means you put a price on me.”

  “No.”

  “No?” I enquired, confused.

  “Don’t fucking compare him to me. I am not Jake, Maya. I would never, ever do that to you,” he rasped, truly outraged.

  “You really don’t see the similarities?” I questioned, finally stopping to look him in the eye.

  “No, I don’t. There isn’t enough money in the world to name your worth. I’ve waited ten years for you and I’m not about to let some drug addict ex ruin what we’ve got. This, us; it’s the best fucking thing to ever happen and I won’t let you walk away.”

  “That’s not your decision to make, Luke,” I replied, moving past him.

  I almost reached the door when an alarming thought crossed my mind; my curiosity seemingly getting the better of me.

  “Where did you get the money from?”

  “What?” he asked, sounding awfully confused.

  “The money you gave Dan. Where did you get it from?”

  He refused to answer me at first but soon gave in, likely realising I had a right to know.

  “Student loans and stuff.”

  “And stuff?” I prompted, unsatisfied with that answer.

  Student finance was barely enough to live on, let alone pay off a bunch of people.

  “Mum’s engagement ring. I sold it,” he mumbled, splitting me in two.

  On one hand, his desperation must’ve been serious for him to sell the ring but on the other, I was just about ready to ring his bloody neck. How could he even justify doing such a thing? This was Dan’s mess to sort out, not his.

  “Well, that’s the final nail in the coffin, isn’t it?” I expressed, sealing our fate.

  I couldn’t stand to be around him.

  “That’s what you think but it’s not,” he insisted, glaring those ocean blues of his straight into mine with so much intensity, I momentarily contemplated forgetting the entire thing to start the reconciliation process. “I’ll fix this, Maya. I always do because you’re the love of my life and I’ll die before I let anything bad happen to you. I can’t apologise for my actions because in doing so, I’ll be apologising for loving you,” he countered, stern as ever. “And I could never be sorry for that.”

  I ignored the desperation in his tone and the look of total despair on his face. I sensed that if I didn’t walk away soon, I’d fall straight into his arms and beg him to forget the entire charade. But in doing that, I’d be sending him the wrong message entirely and I needed remain strong in my statement. It was important for Luke to understand that I wasn’t some vulnerable girl that needed protecting twenty-four seven from school bullies or against men who seemed so set on taking money at my expense. I was no longer in secondary school and needed his heroic assistance all the time. I was my own, independent person and I just needed him to love and respect me enough not to lie. He had plenty of opportunities to tell me the truth, yet never did. He needed to know that this sort of behaviour was not acceptable and I, for one, was certainly not about to stand for it.

  So I left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Pity Party

  Whilst watching Sasha carefully place a piping hot mug of mint infused tea in my trembling hands, I offered her a half-arsed, “Thanks,” and sweetly smiled through my attempts at swallowing the foul tasting substance.

  “Taste like shit?” she asked, watching me with raised brows.

  “Yeah,” I laughed, though struggled to make light of the situation.

  Upon leaving Luke’s, I’d called myself a taxi, having understood the dangers I would be putting myself under should I have chosen to walk home in the dark. I came straight back to tell Sasha everything and miraculously, she understood what I was trying to say through my dramatic insistence to sob. She was brilliant at listening to my rendition of things and never once judged the situation. She was, however, shocked to hear of Luke’s attempts at meddling in my life and even more so that Dan was now a fully-fledged drug addict.

  “I thought the sugar might perk you up a little. I may have gone overboard.”

  Overboard? One sip and I was borderline diabetic.

  “Thanks, I appreciate it,” I ensured, making the conscious decision to be grateful.

  Fortunately, my attention was momentarily drawn to my phone's harsh vibration going off in my pocket, alerting me to an incoming text from a certain someone I was desperately trying to avoid.

 

  The word ‘hate’ shone back at me and settled in my gut, much like a dodgy kebab would after a night out. I had never not spoken to Luke in the nineteen years I’d known him, and as much as I didn’t want to see him right now, I could never bring myself to hate him.

 

  No kiss; that would show him!

 

  I didn’t dare return the thoughts, for fear of breaking my moral standards and letting him off the hook far too easily. It had been less than an hour and I was already struggling without him, but when a point as important as mine needed to be proven, I was determined to stick by my actions and get a goddamn grip.

  “That him?” asked Sasha, sipping on her own drink.

  “Hmm,” I replied, switching my phone off and placing it face down on the coffee table. “He just wanted to know I got home safe.”

  “Christ! I can’t believe you’re being followed. What are you gonna do? Call the police?” she questioned, having every right to be concerned.

  Truth be told, I hadn’t put much thought into next steps. All I knew was my bed was calling and shutting the world out for a few hours felt like the logical thing to do.

  “Oh crap, Luke’s calling me,” she suddenly stated, interrupting all thoughts of bed. “Should I ignore him?”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I insisted, hating the thought of Luke having no one to turn to.

  After all, he and Sasha were friends too.

  “Okay,” she smiled, encouragingly so. “Hello?”

  There was a moment of silence as she listened to him on the other end; her serious expression and creased brow hinting towards careful inst
ruction being dished out.

  “Alright, yeah I’m doing it now,” she spoke, moving from her position on the sofa to double bolt the front door and lock all the windows.

  Her precautions, although a little far fetched, brought home the reality of the situation and as much as I wanted to cry myself into oblivion, I just about managed to resist doing so.

  “All done,” she said, looking my way shortly after. “Yeah, she’s okay. A little bit upset.”

  I motioned for her to stop telling him how pathetic I was being and mouthed for her to quit looking through the peep hole as though a bunch of masked men were about to burst through at any God given moment. Honestly, she had my nerves sky-high.

  “I don’t need to tell her you love her, Luke. She knows you do and that’s not the issue,” soothed Sasha, acting as the true friend by not taking sides. “I’ll look after her and text you if she gets drastically kidnapped from the street,” she smirked, attempting light-heartedness, though to her utmost failure.

  Her joke fell flat and only seemed to cause Luke further worry.

  “I was joking, Anderson! She’ll come around soon enough. Her ego is bruised; it’s what us women do. Now crack open a beer, watch some football and compile a list of things to do to make it up to her. Flowers are always a winner,” she advised, winking my way soon after.

  She eventually hung up and with a slight shake of the head; threw her phone down on the sofa, purposely hitting my thigh with it.

  “That boy has got it bad for you. He’s a fucking mess!” she informed, seating herself down afterwards. “I’m not saying what he did was right but he’s genuinely distraught you’re not talking to him.”

  “I know,” I sighed, throwing my head back in defeat. “I feel awful for leaving him the way I did but he can’t expect me to forgive and forget straight away.”

  “But you will eventually, won’t you? I mean, this isn’t it, right? It can’t be. You’re Luke and Maya. If you two can’t make a relationship work, there’s no hope for the rest of us,” she dramatically declared, nudging my side. “I know you, Maya. You don’t have it in you to leave him and that’s not a bad thing. You shouldn’t be ashamed of that.”

  She was right; I didn’t have it in me to leave him. Because that would be doing the one thing I promised never to do.

  FLASHBACK

  (Maya)

  With my raincoat slung carelessly over my red, flannel pyjamas, I ignored my Mother’s instruction to remain at home and forced myself to endure the freezing cold temperatures December had to offer. Above me, thick clouds circled the greying skies and heavy rain pelted at my shaking legs, but I didn’t dare let it stop me. Mum’s withheld cries played on an endless loop in my head; her sweet tone and understanding gestures making me feel sick. Perhaps I would’ve actually vomited had I not felt so numb to it all. Emptiness consumed me and I could barely feel the harsh descent of grief, let alone my need to stop before I collapsed on the ground.

  “Claire.”

  “Accident.”

  “Dead.”

  I ploughed forward, seeing the end goal in sight and slowly took to walking the long path leading to Luke’s front door. My heart was hammering against my ribs, and the tears running down my cheeks could no longer be detected through the splash of rain water covering my face.

  "Maya?”

  Luke’s Dad, Michael, looked positively broken and nothing like the silly man I knew him to be. With eyes as dull as today’s weather, I accepted the reality of the situation and pathetically remained glued in place.

  “Luke,” I whispered, managing to force the words past my seized up throat.

  “He’s in his room, darling. Has your Mum told you what’s happened?” he asked, gentle as ever.

  “Yes. She told me not to come here. She said I couldn’t see Luke yet, but I had to. I ran out when she wasn’t looking. Please let me see him. Please, please,” I begged, pleading with my life.

  “Okay, sweetheart, go on up,” he replied, taking pity on my pathetic state. “You be sure to look after him for me,” he added, turning his attention to a crying Ali entering from the living room door.

  He picked up his sobbing daughter and gently softened her tears by embracing her wholeheartedly. He then gestured for me to head on up to Luke’s bedroom. I took to the stairs like lightning; knocking twice on his door upon reaching it. I was met with no instruction to bugger off, so cautiously peeled it open and slid myself inside. His body lay shivering in bed and although to be expected, my mind wasn’t quite prepared for it.

  “Luke, it’s me. I’m gonna take my shoes off and get into bed with you, okay?” I offered, untying the laces on my brand new, now slightly ruined trainers.

  To think Christmas was only three days ago.

  I carefully placed them to one side and slipped into bed next to his freezing cold body, pulling the covers high over our heads. I reached for his trembling hand and interlocked my fingers with his, wishing more than ever that I could take away his pain.

  “I snuck out of my house to see you. Mum said I wasn’t allowed to come, but I wanted to,” I told him, to which he gifted my hand a slight squeeze.

  I was painfully aware he was crying and seeing him so distressed only made me more distressed.

  “You can cry on me if you like? I don’t mind if you get my jumper wet.”

  With that said, he positioned his face on my chest and sobbed into my woolly jumper, clutching my shoulders with a desperation I’d never before witnessed. I soon found myself crying along with him. We both shared our grief through tears of sadness, and in that moment, I vowed to do everything in my power to always be there for him. Luke was my best friend and I loved him like I’d never loved anyone. He held the ability to break my heart by simply being sad, and if ever there was a time he needed me, it was right now.

  "Tell me what to do, Luke," I pleaded, hating how sore and swollen his eyes looked. “Tell me how to help.”

  He stared at me with great intensity and rested his forehead against mine, lightly running his lips along my own, slightly chapped ones. Up until this point, I had never kissed a boy in my life, yet somehow I’d always imagined it would one day be with Luke. We didn’t love each other in that way, but I had often heard my Mum talk about actions speaking louder than words and perhaps that was what he needed most. So I kissed him back. It was quick and sweet and so perfectly imperfect that I couldn’t help but tingle from the feeling.

  "Never leave me, Maya," he begged, urgently expressing his wishes, whilst offering no room for compromise. "Promise me."

  I urgently grasped at both his cheeks, hoping to portray my seriousness with the situation.

  "Never," I stated, keeping my response simple and hopefully effective. "I'll never leave you, Luke."

  I kissed him again.

  Luke and I never spoke about that kiss again, but I never forgot. It wasn’t because we were embarrassed or because we regretted it. It was a special moment shared between two best friends, and sometimes in life; things are to simply be enjoyed and not talked about. We were each other’s first kiss and to some extent, each other’s first love. I may not have known it back then, but a little part of me had always loved him more than I should’ve, and it made our current circumstance all the more worse. I couldn’t see past the betrayal and even though I wanted to, I didn’t yet forgive him. I understood it was relatively fresh and could only hope that with time came forgiveness. Because I was terrified I never would.

  What if I never forgave him?

  ~~~

  Two days had passed by painstakingly slow. Between Sasha teaching me how to acquire the correct yoga pose to de-stress and work keeping me busy, I barely had enough time to stop, let alone consider my next steps. I saw Luke everywhere I went, and even though it was me who was ultimately making the decision not to talk, I missed him terribly. The longest we had ever gone without speaking was back in 2005 when I went on a family holiday to Spain. Internet on phones didn’t really exist bac
k then and I had to resort to stealing Mum’s mobile to call Luke back in England. The pair of us had racked up a phone bill of well over two hundred quid and were grounded for weeks because of it.

  Totally worth it!

  Now, however, no attempt had been made on my side to reach out but that wasn’t to say he didn’t try. I got hourly texts in the form of love heart emojis and pictures of cute bunnies. Resisting temptation was hard. Though, thankfully I was slowly starting to accept that his actions were done out of love, as opposed to jealousy and was finally getting over the fact that Dan accepted money to leave without me. In all honesty, I wasn’t half as bothered about that as I should’ve been, but I was still pissed off that he took it without hesitation. The man I saw at Luke’s was not the man I once loved and the sooner this mess was cleared up, the better.

  “And then I shoved a stick up his arse and made him call me Santa Claus,” continued Sasha; sat at our usual table at The Grind.

  “That’s nice,” I told her, not really paying attention.

  “You’ve not been listening to a single word I’ve said, have you?” she scolded, eyes narrowing into tiny slits.

  Her signature cappuccino rested lazily in her hands and my own lukewarm tea went untouched.

  LUKE-warm. For fuck sake!

  “Sorry,” I sighed, letting go of my frustrations. “My head's a mess,” I admitted, rubbing on my tired eyes.

  Sleep had somewhat failed me this last forty-eight hours. As it turned out, being followed by a mysterious man made you a paranoid freak with just the right amount of over exaggeration to drive yourself well and truly up the wall. Every time I heard a noise in the middle of the night, I was convinced I was about to be kidnapped out of my own home. It wasn’t ideal to be living like that, and I knew I needed to address the issue of getting the law involved sooner rather than later. Truth be told, the only reason I hadn’t contacted them already was because of the potential repercussions. Would Dan be in trouble with the police? Would Luke also get dragged into it?

  God forbid!

  “Just give him a call, Maya,” insisted Sasha, offering me an encouraging smile. “You obviously want to and I know he’s struggling without you. I spoke to him yesterday and it’s like he’s lost his left bollock.”