by Amy Muscat
I picked up my handbag, and my other bags– my purchases from today– and grabbed Hayley's stuff before walking over to her. Grabbing the packet of M&M’s she offered me, we followed everyone and joined the queue to get onto the plane.
It took about ten minutes to get on and get situated. We placed our bags in the overhead luggage space, sat down, and got comfortable.
I pulled my phone out, checking to see if Blake had texted me back, but he hadn’t. He hadn’t even read the message yet. So with a pang in my chest I put airplane mode on and Hayley did the same with hers. Once everyone was on board, they came around and did their seatbelt checks, and then they did their safety checks.
I turned to Hayley and sarcastically said, “I love knowing where to go if the plane starts to go down, and where to jump out from,” I say rolling my eyes at her.
She laughed. “Ahh, it’s nice to hear your sarcastic remarks, Lottie. I've missed them.”
I laughed quietly and shook my head at her, then a thought popped into my head. “Hey, Hales?”
“Yeah,” she asks looking over to me.
“I called Calum when you went to the vending machine, and he told me to tell you, to make sure you text him back…” I trailed off, raising an eyebrow at her.
She blushed ten shades of red. After a minute of silence she replied. “Err… I-I was going to text him back… eventually,” she mumbled the last part.
“Hales, listen Calum’s a really nice guy, I just don’t understand–”
“He lives in another country, Lottie!” She exclaimed, looking flustered. But she also looked upset too.
“Hales…”
She shook her head and wiped under her eyes before pushing her glasses back in place. “Sorry, sorry.”
“Hey,” I say gently, placing a hand on her arm and rubbing it slightly. “Hales… I don’t like seeing you upset. What's wrong? Tell me.”
“It’s… it’s just– I don’t know, Lottie, you might think I'm being corny…”
“I won't. Tell me,” I tell her imploringly.
I watch her chest constrict on a deep inhale. “You know when you feel that instant connection with someone?”
I silently nod. I had felt that with Blake. Okay, admittedly, in the beginning I had just wanted to shag Blake, thinking that he was just this womanising player and he was at least good for that. But then I got to know the man behind the player shield he had put up, and I had fallen in love with the kind-hearted, funny, protective, and overbearing beautiful man I now knew him as.
Yes, yesterday didn’t go how I wanted it to when we saw each other again. And as much as it killed me to hear Blake call me those nasty, vulgar words; I knew it was because of his past.
“Well that’s how I felt when I met Calum,” Hayley says pulling me from my thoughts and I look back at her. “But…”
“But what, Hales?”
“He lives in London and I live in New York, Lott's. How is that supposed to work? Are we meant to, what? FaceTime each other? Call? Text? Email? Fly over every couple of months or something? I can’t afford that, Lott's, and I don’t know about Calum’s finances, but I couldn’t ask him to always fly over to me. Wouldn’t ask that of him.”
I felt my eyes water at her admission. Hayley wasn’t just my assistant; she was my friend. A very good friend to me. I didn’t like seeing her like this, not at all. Hayley was the bashful one, the shy one, and the one who went home every night and read romance books dreaming about her perfect guy– her knight in shining armour. And apparently she had found him… he was just in another country and four and a half thousand miles away from her.
“It sounds silly, right?” But before I could answer her question she started talking again. “I mean, does anyone believe in love at first sight, anymore? I'm not saying that I love Calum, but I know, just know it isn’t lust. I really, really like him, Lottie, and I don’t want to.”
“Why not?” I ask her sharply.
“Because I don’t want to get fucking hurt!” She exclaimed loudly. When people started looking over, she ducked her head hiding her blushing face from their views. She whispered to me, “I don’t want to get hurt six months down the line when he decides that this thing we might start is all too much. I don’t want to wake up one day head over heels in love with Calum only for him to say to me, ‘sorry Hales can’t do this long-distance relationship anymore!’ Where would that leave me? Heartbroken and alone in New York.” I watch as she struggles with her emotion, but when her chin starts wobbling, I pull her into a hug.
I squeeze the life out of her, which she reciprocates. We’re both a sobbing mess when we let each other go. I take one look at her face– black lines from her mascara running down her cheeks, and white track marks where some of the mascara had smudged. Most probably on my top– knowing I must look just as she does, if not worst, and burst out laughing. Hayley joins me in my impromptu laugh fest.
Total inappropriate time for me to be laughing, but I think it was one of those moments where it was laugh or cry more.
After a minute or so of laughing and feeling my ribs start to hurt me, we stop and silently wipe our faces.
“Hales… I don’t know what to say to you, I'm not exactly in the best place right now to give you relationship advice.” I say grimacing, and she reluctantly nods. “But I will tell you to follow your heart. If you feel like this thing, as you put it, with Calum is not gonna go anywhere, then you need to tell him. ’Cause from the phone call I got from Calum; he really likes you too. And personally I think it might just go somewhere. It’s up to you, though, love,” I tell her reaching for her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.
Hayley nods her head again, but this time she doesn’t say anything back; she just silently sits there contemplating my words…
JETLAGGED WASN’T EVEN an adequate word for how worn out I feel right now.
I was sitting in a yellow cab, back in New York. I had just dropped Hayley off at her place, and I was about three blocks from Blake's flat sitting in a shitload of traffic.
My thoughts automatically went to Blake, and I was silently wondering what he was doing…
Was he indoors? Sleeping? Was he out? Was he okay? Was he thinking about me? Did he hate me? Was he… was he with anyone else? No. I completely dismissed the stupid thought that passed through my head. But, what if he was…
No. No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t do that to me, I thought vehemently.
It’s almost midnight here in New York and I was hoping, no praying, that Blake was at his flat and awake. And that he would be willing to talk to me. I would hate it if, when I got to his place, that he would just shut the door in my face and not even bother talking to me. But I would be persistent. I wouldn’t leave without a fight. If he didn’t answer, then I would leave and come back in the morning, but if he did answer and tries to shut the door on me; Oh, I would definitely put up a fight.
I had texted my Nan and Calum letting them know I was back home safely. I had also spoke to my Mum and Dad, letting them know that I was back in New York. When they had asked why, I just told them that I was home sick and that everything had worked out well with Layla, and I didn’t see the point of staying. It had sounded pathetic; me, a twenty-four-year-old woman saying that she was homesick. My Dad believed it, my Mum… not so much. Maybe it was because she was a woman herself, or maybe it was just her motherly instincts telling her that I was lying, but either way I knew she knew something was up. When my Dad had gotten off the line saying he’d see me the next day for dinner– to which I said maybe, telling him how I was going to go see Blake first. That I didn’t know if he had made plans giving off the illusion that Blake knew I was coming back and that everything was fine with us. My Mum had whispered down the line that she was on to me and that she knew I wasn't telling the whole truth. I had groaned. Fucking mothers…. You gotta love them. I told her I'd tell her when I saw her next. I had heard the reluctance in her voice when she agreed, telling me we could do brunch if I coul
dn’t make dinner. I agreed, saying I would call her.
“Get out the way!” The cab drivers shout startled me from my thoughts, and a second later his horn blared. “Idiot!” He shouts again shaking his head and muttering under his breath before he turned his head towards me. “Sorry, Miss.”
“It’s okay. What happened? I was in my own little world back here.”
“Some drunken punk walked in front of the car. Idiot. And they wonder why there are so many road accidents…” He said shaking his head again.
I looked out the window looking for said idiot, but couldn’t spot anyone acting drunk out of the hundreds of other people milling around the city.
It was then that I realised that we were only a block away from Blake's, and there was now no traffic, thank fuck. I'd be at Blake's in a matter of minutes.
I felt butterflies swamp my stomach, causing me to feel slightly sick.
A couple of minutes later and we were outside Blake's flat. Those butterflies turned into something bigger, heavier.
“We’re here miss,” the driver says.
I look over to him and he tells me the fare comes to $33.60, I hand him two twenties before jumping out and walking around to the boot to grab my suitcase. I say thanks and walk into Blake's building. I press number five on the lit up panel in the elevator to take me to Blake's floor. With a ping, the doors opened and I rolled my suitcase along with me until I reached Blake's door.
I took a deep breath and knocked on the door… only for there to be no answer.
I knocked again. And again, and again. Then I tried to call him, but to no such luck.
After waiting five minutes and some more insistent knocks from me, I deduced that he was rather asleep, didn’t want to answer the door to me, or he was out.
So with a heavy heart, I left Blake's building and hailed another cab to take me home.
On the way there, I sent him another text message, even though he still hadn’t looked at the one I had sent him at the airport. Maybe he had broken another phone? It was plausible…
Hey, it’s me. Again. I came by to see you but got no answer. Please, Blake, pick up, open the door, text me back. Look at the text! Just… call me back or something. Please. Lottie Xxx
MY DAY STARTED NORMALLY. I woke up at eight o’clock in the morning, jumped into the shower, got dressed, and then I left to go to back to Blake's flat. When he didn’t answer either my calls or my knocks on the door, I left. I walked back to my place, needing the fresh air. On the way, I had stopped off in Starbucks and got a coffee and a croissant. Then I continued my walk back to my place.
When I was back home, I did two loads of washing, spoke and arranged to meet my Mum and Peyton for lunch. We agreed to meet at The Picnic Basket on 65 West & 37th street. It only took me fifteen minutes to get there by foot, and I walked in to see my Mum and Peyton already there and chatting away to each other.
I wore my jean shorts with my Book Boyfriends Are The Best pink t-shirt; along with my new pink Converses. My hair was scraped up in a high ponytail, and a pair of sunglasses donned my face. Not one scrap of make-up was on my face. This morning I honestly couldn’t be bothered to put any on. And to be honest, there was a high chance of me crying today. I didn’t feel like having any smudges of black running down my face again like I had when Hayley and I were on the plane. I also brought the presents I had gotten everyone with me.
When I walk into the café, I hug the pair of them. Squeezing each of them tightly, but less with Peyton. She was, after all, pregnant. Didn’t want to hurt the babies now did we.
We ordered our food, ate, and drank our lemonade infused iced teas. I gave Peyton her gifts; a set of keying’s for her and Keller and a fridge magnet. Ivy’s pink Converses, and two I <3 London baby grows for the twins. She had cried, and, of course, blamed her hormones, after saying thank you.
But then we got down to the part of why I was home early, and what was happening with Blake and me.
I explain everything to them. But I leave out the part where Blake called me a dirty, cheating whore for my Mum’s sake. She really didn’t need to hear that. I, as I predicted, cried. My best friend and my mother crying along with me, and this time I don’t think it was because of Peyton's hormones. This time I'm sure it was because I was hurting.
After we settle down, I told them about how I had tried to speak to him but had gotten no answer. I asked Peyton if she or if she knew if Keller had spoken to him at all. I waited with baited breath for her answer. And I was totally disappointed when she said no, but that she’d ask Keller to keep trying to get a hold of him.
After that, I changed the subject, asking them questions. I asked my Mum how her date night went with her and my Dad; she blushed and said it had gone swimmingly. I didn’t know if swimmingly was a euphemism for her and my Dad had gotten it on. Shudder. I quickly changed that subject. I asked Peyton when she gets to find out the sex of the babies.
She told me, “in three weeks,” and grinned happily while rubbing away at her ever-expanding belly.
“Oh, my God! I'm so friggin’ excited! I can't wait. And don’t forget our bet we made,” I said to her raising a cheeky eyebrow.
She rolled her eyes at me, telling me she remembered, but adding on that I should get my hundred bucks ready to give to her. My Mum, who had been sitting there looking confused, asked about the bet. I told her how I thought Peyton was going to have a boy and a girl and Peyton thought the babies would be the same sex. My Mum had shaken her head and told me to never doubt a mothers intuition.
Peyton said, “Ha,” in my face, smiling smugly. I laughed out loud.
Then our conversations changed, and we ended up talking anything and nothing for about two hours.
My Mum left first, telling us that she had to go to a meeting and that my Dad was waiting for her. She kissed Peyton and me goodbye. But before she walked away she asked that I keep her updated on the Blake situation. Then Peyton had to go because she had to pick Ivy up from Sarah’s house, where Ivy was having a play date with Henry and Jessie.
She asked me the same as my Mum had, to make sure that I let her know if anything happened with Blake and I. I agreed. I gave her a kiss and said bye to her. Then I made my way home feeling better than I had when I had woken up that morning. I stopped off at the corner shop to grab some milk and bread. Then walked in the direction of my flat.
IT HAPPENED WHEN I had gotten out of the shower. I had just walked into my living room when my phone beeped, indicating I had a text message.
My heart took off in a sprint. Was it Blake? Was he finally getting back to me? I thought excitedly. I run over to where my bag was sitting on the coffee table.
In my rushed haze, I dropped it while I was trying to get to my phone. I bend down and try to dig through it, but there was so much shit in my way, that I end up tipping the whole thing upside-down. I push my make-up bag out of the way, along with my purse, keys, and a box of cigarettes, until finally, finally I see my phone.
I flip it around in my hand and open up the screen without looking who the text message was from.
But it was from an unknown number…
Hey, Lottie right? I didn’t really want to do this, but I thought you should know… I guess you and me are the same now, right? Don’t worry I took REAL GOOD care of him for you ;)…
I was confused about the text. Who would send me some vague-arse message like that? I was wracking my brains about it for a minute, but then my phone pinged again. Twice. Two distorted pictures were coming through on my phone. It was only when they loaded, and I clicked on the first one did my breath get sucked out of my body, and my heart stopped beating…
There in black and white was a picture of a butt-arsed naked Blake laying on his stomach, dead to the world, and looking rough; with an equally naked Lucy wrapped around him…
In total horror of what I was seeing, I flicked my thumb to the right and see another photo of them naked. Well actually the covers were almost covering the pair
of them, but you could see through the thin blue sheet that Lucy's nipples were exposed and hard, no bra in sight. Blake was in the same position as he was in the other picture, except this time their lips were grazing together.
Lucy looked positively glowing, happy, radiant, and every other fucking happy emotion in the English dictionary– the total opposite of how I was feeling at this moment.
My phone vibrated again, letting me know I had another message, and maybe I was a masochist, but I came off the picture so quickly you would think my life depended on it.
But it wasn’t another picture; it was just a message. One where I could almost hear Lucy's gloating voice coming through the phone.
I don’t mean to be a bitch, but… I told you he would come back to me. Lucy xx
The bitch actually put kisses on the end of the text. Fucking whore!
But then everything hit me at once: the hurt, the heartbreak, the anguish, the betrayal, the crumbling need to fucking breathe...
Oh God!
Blake had cheated on me. He had cheated on me with the woman–no the fucking whore who had cheated on him…
Oh God, I couldn’t breathe. There was no air getting into my lungs… nothing…
That’s all I could feel… nothing… total oblivion…
THEY SAY THAT a picture is worth a thousand words… Well, I've just received two pictures, so does that mean two thousand words?
I don’t know, but I do know I can’t think of two thousand words to describe how I feel right now: two thousand expletives maybe, but not two thousand actual, structural words.
I can tell you how it feels like my heart is breaking right now. What I thought I felt a couple of days ago, the heartache and the pain, is nothing like I'm feeling right now. My legs shake, and I collapse on the sofa in my living room.
I look back down at my phone and see that dreaded first picture that no one person wants to receive. The screen blurs, and I watch as a fat teardrop falls onto the glass screen. And then another until my phone becomes soaked with my tears. A sob hitches in my throat, getting caught for a second before it flows out of my mouth like it’s a natural sound coming from my body, when in actual fact; it’s not. Laughter and sarcastic remarks are what I'm used to coming out from my mouth, but not this. Not these horrible sounds that my body seems to instinctively know.
