Ruined Promises
Ruined #3
Tracy Lorraine
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
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About the Author
Also by Tracy Lorraine
Molly
Prologue
Chapter 1
Copyright © 2018 by Tracy Lorraine
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Edited by Pinpoint Editing
Cover by Tracy Lorraine
Formatting by Tracy Lorraine
Mum x
Chapter One
I have no memory of the drive here. I don’t remember stopping at any red lights or giving way at any roundabouts. My focus was solely on getting away from Blake and his broken promise.
I let out a huge breath as I hug my knees to my chest and look at the crashing waves below me. The cold wind howls past me, stinging my wet cheeks.
I truly didn’t see this coming, and I now feel so stupid, allowing myself to get swept away by Blake so quickly I didn’t even question who he really was.
He seemed so perfect. Everything just worked between us…but I guess it’s true what they say: if it seems too good to be true, it probably is.
I twist myself on the bench and the plaque on the backrest catches my eye. I didn’t get the chance to look at it last time I came out here, but when I read the words in front of me, I don’t know why I didn’t guess.
In loving memory of an incredible daughter and mother, Kayleigh Marsh.
May you enjoy your favourite place forever.
Tears continue to pour down my face as images of my time with Blake play out in my mind. After everything with Edward, how did I allow him to play me so easily? I like to think I’d have seen the warning signs that something wasn’t right, but everything’s been so perfect. The only thing I can pinpoint as odd were the phone calls he ignored, but I had no reason to think it was another woman. He told me I was the only one since Kayligh.
For fuck’s sake, how could I be so stupid?
My sobs get louder and the tears fall faster. What am I meant to do now? He owns the building that not only is my new business in, but also my future home. I can’t accept any of that now. Was it all because of his guilt? The thought of my bakery being tainted by his lies does nothing for my fragile state. I thought my life was turning a corner, that I’d found where I was meant to be and what I was meant to be doing. Now, I’m sat here, questioning all that for the second time in only a couple of months.
It’s not long later I hear the crunch of gravel as someone approaches. My heart jumps into my chest. Why did I come here? He’d have known this is where I’d run to.
“Addison.” He sounds broken.
I don’t look at him. I can’t. Not only will it hurt too much but I know exactly what those dark blue eyes do to me. He’ll be able to convince me it was all in my head. Instead, I look away from him and out to sea. “Go away,” I manage to whisper through my sobs.
“Please,” he begs. “Let me explain.”
“No, Blake,” I say, a little more forcefully than before. I get up and walk over to the edge, keeping my back to him. “I want you to leave.”
“Addison, please. It’s not what it looked like.”
I laugh. Has that line ever actually been used truthfully? It’s just the go to line to try and convince people they’re not scumbags when that’s exactly what they are.
“Go, please.”
Blake says no more and, after a minute or two, I hear his footsteps as he begins to leave. My entire body urges me to stop him walking away but I don’t. He may have played me for a fool once but he sure as fuck won’t do it again.
I’ve no idea how long I stay up on that cliff looking out to the horizon, but when I eventually leave the sun is starting to come up.
I’m numb as I drive Aunt Addy’s car back to her house. I expect it to be in silence at this time of night—or morning—so I’m surprised when I hear voices as I open the front door. Those voices soon stop when I appear in the doorway. Aunt Addy and Mum both turn to look at me, their faces tired and worried.
“Addison,” they both say at the same time as they get up and step towards me.
“Don’t.” I put my hands up to stop them. I’ve cried all night; I don’t need them being all nice and telling me everything’s going to be okay right now. What I need is a stiff drink and to attempt to get some sleep. Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop my mum, who just pushes my arms out of the way and pulls me to her.
“Shit, baby, you’re freezing. Have you been out on that damn cliff all night? Addy, run her a bath,” she instructs. I’m too shocked by her sudden affection to push her away or argue so I allow her to pull me into the kitchen and sit me down at the table. I listen as she starts rummaging around in the cupboards before she places a heavy bottle down on the worktop. Seconds later, a tumbler of golden liquid appears in front of me.
“Drink,” she instructs, and I do as I’m told.
The whiskey burns all the way down but I don’t react as I normally would. Instead, I actually enjoy the discomfort; it’s much better than what I’m currently feeling in my heart.
Once it’s ready, I’m ushered into the bathroom and left to my own devices. Candles flicker and steam bellows up from the awaiting water but it all passes me by. The only image in my mind is of Blake with that woman; I can’t get it out of my fucking head.
When I get out, I find my pyjamas waiting for me by the bathroom door, and when I get to the living room my bed is made and there’s a hot chocolate waiting for me.
“Hey, baby,” Mum whispers, “We’ll be in Addy’s studio if you need us, but we’ll leave you alone for now.”
“Thank you,” I say sincerely. I can’t remember many times in my life Mum has been this thoughtful, but I’m more than grateful I didn’t come back to her steaming. She’s gone before I think to apologise for abandoning her or to ask how she got back from Belfast.
I toss and turn for hours and eventually fall asleep when most people would be getting up. I sleep almost all day but the heartache doesn’t stop because he’s there in my dreams, haunting me.
I spend all weekend baking. Thoughts of whether I’m actually going to ever open this bakery now are never far from my mind, but baking is the only way I know to relax and stop my repetitive thoughts.
“You need to slow down, Addison,” Aunt Addy says when she comes into the kitchen on Monday morning to find me putting a baking tray full of cookies into the oven. “Have you even slept?” she adds when she gets a look at my face. I know why she’s so concerned because I had a bit of a shock myself when I looked in the bathroom mirror earlier. It wasn’t a pretty sight.
“A bit,” I answer honestly. I tried to sleep, I really did, but the same image is on repeat every time I shut my eyes: Blake’s smile as he looked at that woman like she was something so special.
My phone starts vibrating on the windowsill. I don’t need to look to know it’s him. He’s rang and texted hundreds of times but no call has been answered and no words have been read. I know I’m only torturing myself by leaving it turned on, but I can’t help it; some insane part of me likes to think that as long as he keeps trying to talk to me, there must be some mistake and I must mean something to him.
“You need to speak to him.”
�
�I know.” But it doesn’t mean it’s going to happen anytime soon.
Mum and Aunt Addy have just about managed to do as they promised and stay out of it, although their opinions and advice have slipped out a couple of times, mostly just after one of them has spoken to Blake either on the phone or when he’s turned up at the front door.
I get so lost making little fancy pastries that once Aunt Addy and Mum go out, I completely lose track of time. When the doorbell rings, I jump out of my skin. My heart pounds and my palms start sweating as I think about Blake being stood on the other side. Ugh, I bet I’ve been stitched up. Aunt Addy and Mum must have told him I was here alone and to try to talk to me. My anger ignites as I think about their promise to keep their noses out. Promises are always fucking broken, I think to myself as I peek out from behind the curtains to see if I’m right.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I see it’s Cara. “Shit,” I curse when I notice she’s stood in her workout gear. I quickly glance at the clock and realise she’s here to pick me up for Zumba.
“What’s wrong?” Cara asks the second I pull the door open. She steps forward and the concern in her eyes is all I need to start off another round of tears. I try to push aside the thought that, in just three days, I’ve cried more over Blake than I ever have over Edward.
Cara pulls me down on the sofa and wraps her arm around my shoulders while I try to pull myself back together.
“B…Blake was c…cheat—”
“Motherfucker,” Cara snaps, making me jump. My eyes fly up to hers in surprise at her vicious tone. “Sorry, that was just a shock. I never had him down as the cheating kind. He seems too kind, caring.” Cara shakes her head before finishing off her thought with, “I guess it just goes to show you never really know someone.” Something about her tone makes me think she’s been in my position and knows how I’m feeling.
“I’ve got a better idea than Zumba,” she announces after a few minutes of silence.
She gives me just enough time to turn the oven off, pull some shoes on and grab my jacket.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
I have no clue where we’re headed but I wasn’t expecting to be going towards Belfast. Just thinking of what happened the last time I was here has me on the verge of tears again.
“Come on, it’s a short walk down here,” Cara says after pulling the car to a stop on a side street.
Once I’ve joined her on the pavement, she links her arm through mine and marches me past some closed shops to a sugar sweet pastel coloured place that smells out of this world.
“What’s this?”
“Spoon Street. They do the most amazing frozen yoghurt, it’s the perfect cure for a broken heart. Come on.” She pulls me inside and my mouth waters at the selection of goodies laid out before us. “Plus, yoghurt is totally healthy.”
“Yeah, until you cover it in some of that,” I say, pointing out the array of toppings.
Cara shrugs me off before greeting the member of staff by name, showing just how often she comes here. Blake and Jason’s mention of something going on between Cara and their friend Nate pops into my mind as she orders us the biggest pots of yoghurt imaginable before we stand and top them with all sorts of goodies.
“We’re closing soon but knock yourself out,” the woman behind the counter says. “I’ll be here for an hour or so yet cleaning and getting everything ready for tomorrow.”
We both mutter our thanks before taking our pots of heaven towards the booth by the window.
“Oh my God,” I moan when I have my first mouthful.
“Fucking orgasmic, right?” Cara asks around her own.
If I’d had this before sex with Blake, I would have said sex pales in comparison; unfortunately, I don’t think anything—or anyone—will live up to him.
“What did I say?” Cara asks when she sees the look on my face.
I shake it off and focus my attention on her. “A little birdie told me there’s something going on with you and Nathan.”
Cara looks up to the ceiling like she’s praying for strength—either that, or hoping she imagined what I just said.
“It’s nothing,” she eventually says before shovelling a massive spoonful of chocolate sprinkle topped yoghurt in her mouth.
“Oh no, you’re not getting away with that. I just spilled my guts about my man trouble so you’re going to do the same. Plus, hearing about someone else’s disastrous love life will make me feel better,” I say, giving her my best sad face.
“Blackmail, really?”
“Really. Now spill.”
“Fine, but just remember you asked for it.”
It turns out Cara and Nate were childhood sweethearts. Nate arrived not long after I left and they instantly hit it off. At fourteen, she thought he was the one. She had their lives planned out. They’d go to the same university, move in together, marriage, kids, the lot—and all before they were thirty. I kept my mouth shut when sensible questions like how they were going to afford this wanted to slip out, because it was all just a dream. Everything was perfect until A-level results day came and Nate did better than expected. Cara had no idea he’d applied to his dream university, but he had, and he got in. He dumped her right before the party that night. She found out later he spent most of that night celebrating with the school slut.
Even after all that, Cara can’t stay away from him. He’s picked her up and dropped her again more times than she can count but she doesn’t seem to learn.
“You have to stop falling into bed with him, Cara. You’re allowing him to have exactly what he wants: a roll in the sack without any consequences.”
“You think I don’t know that? I tried, I’ve dated, I’ve even had a boyfriend or two, but somehow I always end up back there.”
“Do you love him?’
“No!” she snaps, way too defensively.
I have to admit that when we leave, the sugar and girl time has made me feel a little better, although it’s short lived, because when I walk through Aunt Addy’s front door, there’s an envelope on the doormat with my name on it. The handwriting alone makes my heart hurt.
I scoop it up and place it on the dining table while I put the kettle on.
I’m still sat there staring at it over an hour later when Mum and Aunt Addy reappear, Aunt Addy smiles weakly and mutters something about another vertigo attack before going straight to her bedroom with Mum by her side.
I think the only good thing that’s come out of the last few days is that Mum’s been relatively sober. Having someone else to think about other than herself has probably helped somewhat.
“Hey, baby, how’re you doing?” Mum asks when she comes to sit next to me. “Is that…” she doesn’t finish the question, because we both know what it is.
That letter haunts me all night. I swear I can feel it calling to me from the other room but I stay strong because I’m not ready to hear—or read—anything from him yet. I’m too scared he’s going to say something that will make me want to forgive him, and he doesn’t deserve that. I told myself when I moved back here that I was going to live a life for me, but look where I’ve found myself already. I’m more broken than when I arrived.
By Thursday, I can’t take it anymore. Aunt Addy’s gone to meet clients and Mum’s in the bath so I pluck the envelope form the table and sit myself on the sofa with it. I let out a big breath before ripping it open. What’s the worst it can say? I ask myself.
Addison,
I’m not going to try to defend myself in a letter, I need to explain what was going on to your face. But please know that I never meant to hurt you and I know it sounds cliché but it really wasn’t want it looked like. You’re the only one for me, baker girl.
A sob bubbles up my throat at the use of his nickname for me. I miss him so fucking much that just reading his words is making my heart bleed for him. Is what he’s saying here true? Is he hurting just as much as I am? Aunt Addy and Mum have both said he’s l
ooked a mess when they’ve seen him.
“Stop it,” I mutter to myself. This is exactly why I didn’t want to read this fucking thing. I shouldn’t be wondering if he’s hurting; he’s not the one who found me with another man.
I square my shoulders and continue.
I need you to know that the bakery and the flat are yours no matter what. I know you’re going to be questioning everything but that was always destined to be your bakery even before I knew you, so it needs to happen.
Everything is ready for you. Your kitchen is just waiting for its baker.
Sinead and I painted the flat like planned and all your stuff got delivered yesterday. You can move in whenever you’re ready.
I promise that I can explain everything. Please give me the time to prove to you that you’re the one for me.
Please, just hear me out.
Blake.
PS, I’ve taken the spare keys away from Jason.
I fall back onto the sofa clutching his letter. He still wants me to open the bakery; can I do that when I know every time I step in the place all I’m going to see is him? It wouldn’t be happening if he didn’t believe in me. It now seems wrong that I should go ahead without him.
I lie there for so long that I start to drift off to sleep with the spring sun streaming in through the window, warming my face. All of a sudden, a thought slams into me and I’m wide awake. My stuff arrived on Tuesday and I forgot all about it. Now it’s Thursday. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I dive off the sofa, grab my handbag and start rummaging around inside until I get my hands on my diary. I know I’m not wrong but I still pray to whoever could be listening that I am. I flip the page open and stare down at that little messy star I’d scribbled on Tuesday as a reminder, although never in my life have I needed one because my body’s regular as fucking clockwork. I know exactly what day and almost what hour I’m going to start my period, and it was meant to be Tuesday.
Ruined Promises Page 1
