Sweet Days (Four Days Book 2)

by A. S. Kelly

  never felt before.

  “Are you still in love with him?”

  She sighs sadly. “I stopped loving him the day

  he told me he went to bed with someone else.”

  God, what a relief. I didn’t think I could be

  affected so badly by jealousy.

  “I don’t want anything from you, I swear.

  Nothing that you might be thinking. I just want to

  be near you.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Because this is where I want to be.”

  She nods and rests her back against the couch.

  Then she smiles and with that smile goes another

  big piece of my dignity.

  What the hell do what you want with my

  dignity? I don’t care if you use it to make a dog

  bed.

  “I’m hungry,” she says out of the blue as if

  nothing we’ve said ’til now had any importance.

  “I’m always hungry. I’m dying of hunger. And I

  don’t know how to cook,” she confesses, making a

  pouty face like a naughty little girl. “I always eat

  the same garbage.”

  ‘We can fix that,” I say, swallowing a victorious

  smile as I start to breathe a bit easier.

  13

  Erin

  I go to the back room to get a few bottles of

  whiskey that are needed at the bar, confident there

  is no one there, but then I am blocked by a few

  voices at the door. I know I shouldn’t listen in on

  the guys’ conversations, but Patrick’s voice makes

  me stop dead in my tracks.

  “Guys, I don’t know if I can get away just now.”

  “You?” Jay speaks. “Just you with nothing to tie

  you down, you who can’t wait to jump in a new

  saddle? Don’t bullshit us, Patrick. You’re the only

  one who has nothing to lose.”

  Patrick doesn’t answer but remains silent for a

  few minutes.

  “Is there something you want to tell us?” Liam

  asks.

  I sneak a bit closer to see as well as hear what’s

  going on. Patrick shakes his head and moves,

  getting ready to leave the room. When he raises his

  glance he sees me and stops at the storage room

  door.

  “Excuse me, guys,” I say embarrassed, realizing

  that by now they’ve all seen me. “I didn’t want to

  disturb you, but I need to grab a few things,” I

  mutter nervously gesturing with my hands. I can

  feel I’m about to start crying again for no good

  reason.

  “No problem,” Patrick cuts it short. “You didn’t

  interrupt anything, we’re done here.”

  I look down at my hands because I can’t look at

  any of them.

  “Hey, is everything okay?” Jay asks, looking

  first at me and then at Patrick.

  “Perfect,” I say with a strained voice. “Maybe

  I’ll come back later.” I turn to go back into the bar

  but Patrick blocks me.

  “Wait, Erin, let me go with you.”

  Without waiting for him, I hurry back because I

  do not want to listen to his explanations, if indeed

  he had any intention of giving me any. After all,

  why should he? He’s free, independent and with no

  bonds. He doesn’t have to explain anything to me.

  “Erin.” His voice is sweet and strained and even

  if I somehow feel betrayed and in a certain sense

  disappointed, I cannot resist that tone of voice,

  which disarms me.

  “You don’t have to tell me anything, Patrick, it’s

  your life.”

  “I’d like to explain.”

  “Instead, you shouldn’t,” I say with decision but

  without having the nerve to look at him and

  keeping him behind me. “You don’t owe me

  anything. I’m not your problem,” I conclude,

  before going back to the dining hall, leaving my

  heart on the pavement.

  ~ ~ ~

  “London?” I ask meekly.

  Rain brings me up to date on the situation. Even

  if I was able to infer something from their

  discussion, I didn’t want to hear Patrick’s version

  of it.

  “A manager called them for a meeting. He

  seems interested in their music.”

  “Oh,” I say, surprised. I didn’t know anything

  about it, and yet Patrick spent all night at my

  house last night. Didn’t he think to let me know

  about it?

  “It could mean a big change, you know … they

  might be away for a while and we’d have to call in

  more help here.”

  “I understand.”

  I understand very well. All those words, that

  story about wanting to be close to me … what a

  jackass.

  “Everything alright?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine, Rain. I’m going to get

  the tables ready for tonight.”

  I need to get away because Rain can see right

  through me and I’m not up to it right now that my

  disappointment’s burning my eyes and massacring

  my heart. And to think I believed it. For one night

  I believed his words and started hoping.

  He made me pancakes and created a stupid

  smile out of Nutella on them, covered them with

  whipped cream and made me some tea. We

  laughed in front of the TV until I fell asleep on the

  couch. He took me in his arms and brought me to

  bed and gave me a kiss on my forehead, wishing

  me goodnight. And tonight I dreamt that that

  stupid kiss on the forehead was something more. I

  woke up in a great mood today, like I was me

  again, like I could make it. And now, I’m right

  back where I started.

  Damned men.

  Damned Patrick.

  Damned fool I am.

  ~ ~ ~

  What a miserable night. I’m having a hard time

  keeping up with orders and I took more breaks

  than necessary in order to keep going all night.

  Rain sent me up an hour before closing, worried

  about me. She thinks I’m tired, that I’m pushing it

  too much. The truth is that my chest hurts and I

  have a weight on my heart that’s as big as a

  mountain, again, and that I should not have

  deceived myself.

  Patrick left this morning at dawn, at least that’s

  what Rain told me. The guys will be gone for a

  few days. A record-house manager contacted them

  and asked them to come out and play a few pieces.

  This could be a new beginning for them and a

  massive disappointment for me. After our brief

  discussion yesterday afternoon, I avoided him at

  all costs last night and closed the apartment door

  and locked it. So he couldn’t come ask me to talk

  about it again.

  I get into bed, hugging a silly stuffed animal my

  father gave me when I was eight years old, and

  which I’ve never given up. I hug it tightly, looking

  for warmth and comfort, but it’s only a stuffed

  animal and not able to give me what I want from a

  pair of strong tattooed arms.

  Then I let myself fall into a tormented sleep,

  made of dark, falling stairs, vertigo that swa
llows

  me up in an immense nothingness.

  I don’t know how long I slept, I only know I can

  feel a fresh hand on my forehead that is refreshing

  against a hammering headache I’ve had since I fell

  asleep.

  As I open my eyes, I blink a few times until I’m

  able to focus on the image in front of me. I try to

  speak but my voice doesn’t come out and I start

  crying, which has sort of become my daily bread.

  “Shh … don’t cry, everything’s fine,” Patrick

  tells me.

  “Wha … what are you doing here?”

  “I didn’t want to wake you, I’m sorry, I just

  passed by to see how you were doing.”

  “I thought you were in London,” I say,

  confused.

  “I’m back,” he says, giving me a melancholy

  smile.

  “But surely you only left this morning?”

  “Uh, yes, well, I remembered something I had

  to do.”

  I pull myself up to a sitting position and rest my

  back on the headboard.

  “It was something that is so important I had to

  come back right away.”

  “And what’s that?” I ask, still confused.

  “This,” he says, before taking my face in his

  hands and drawing in close to my lips. Then he

  brushes them so slightly that I barely feel his touch

  but the heat from his breath penetrates the barriers

  of my mind, making me give in to the inevitable.

  Patrick kisses my lips, little short kisses that

  make me afraid I’ll start crying again. Then he

  stops and looks me in the eyes, giving me one of

  those sweet looks, sensual and intense, that drag

  me with him into the abyss.

  “Is it alright?” he asks gazing at me with

  penetrating eyes and talking in an impassioned

  voice.

  I nod.

  I forget that I’m pregnant by another man and

  every probable consequence that will happen the

  moment that he put his lips on mine again, inviting

  me to open them and let him in.

  And I do it, stupidly irrespective of the big

  damage we’re doing to each other, because it’s

  Patrick, because he came back for me, because

  he’s strong and sexy and I want to feel every beat

  of his heart inside me.

  His hot tongue tickles mine, which follows right

  after his meeting the warmth of his mouth, which

  is in contrast with his cold metal piercing, which I

  hated from the first day, but that I now adore as if

  it were the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.

  And we kiss each other for who knows how

  long, as he caresses my face, dries my tears and

  gives me a night of infinite sweetness and warmth,

  holding me to his bare chest and where I am

  finally able to relax without descending into the

  darkness, without falling and without fear.

  Patrick

  The episode of the manager and the meeting was a

  huge mistake. I can’t believe I left her alone now,

  just after having asked her to let me get close.

  Where the hell was my head when I accepted this

  whole plan?

  Sure, I’ve always been the one to push the band

  to get back together, to play music, it’s true. I’m

  the one who always hoped there’d be more for us

  than just playing at the pub and this stupid fucking

  one-horse town. I was the one who wanted Four

  Reasons To Die to have another chance. Music has

  always been our dream and I never understood

  why Liam was so reluctant in the beginning.

  I do now.

  And when I started feeling a knot tightening in

  my throat that was threatening to suffocate me in

  that studio full of people with instruments and

  serious expressions, I understood that I was in the

  wrong place with the wrong people.

  I walked out of that room, called a taxi and went

  straight to the airport. I got on the next available

  flight for Dublin and came home.

  I came back to her.

  After the other night, in which I did everything

  but make a move, I can’t believe I was able to go

  get that stupid flight without having told her how

  much I dreamed about brushing her lips and

  kissing her until we were both breathless.

  And I swear that’s it.

  All the rest isn’t important for now. Now I just

  want to taste her and leave my flavor in her mouth

  and in her head so that she won’t be able to forget

  it.

  I let Aaron, Jay and Liam carry on for

  themselves. I’m a shitty friend and an even worse

  musician, because I feel like I’ve thrown

  everyone’s dreams to the wind and I don’t give a

  damn and I don’t regret it.

  I don’t know how the guys are going to take it,

  or the manager or the guys who work for the

  recording studio. They’ll probably ask for my

  head.

  So be it.

  I really couldn’t care less.

  Because I have to stay here.

  With her.

  I pay the taxi driver, leaving him the entire

  wallet of money as he yells after me. What does he

  want, what do I care? I need to run to the upstairs

  apartment now, before it’s too late, before she

  thinks I’ve abandoned her.

  I race upstairs, the door is closed but I was

  smart and brought the reserve keys with me. I open

  the door and look around, everything is dark and

  silent. So I go to the room where she’s sleeping,

  clutching a stuffed animal that looks like it’s seen

  better days.

  I approach her and sit on the bed. I take a deep

  breath and encourage myself not to be a coward, to

  dive in without overthinking it, even if that means

  not having future resentment after she has

  shattered my heart to a million pieces

  Then I gently rub her forehead with my hand

  and she moves in her sleep. She opens and closes

  her eyes a few times before realizing what’s

  happening.

  I tell her that I’ve forgotten to do something

  important that couldn’t be put off. So I lean in and

  take her face in my hands. I taste her lips, so

  slowly that I’m barely able to get the flavor. Then I

  look at her with my eyes and my whole face,

  because I’m here for her, to kiss her, comfort her

  or just to let her cry on my shoulder. And I would

  like to tell her that I’d be willing to make her

  pancakes every night of her life just to share this

  moment together.

  I kiss her and tie my tongue to hers and begin

  playing with it, letting her feel the metal of my

  piercing which I know she’ll like. She puts her

  hand on the back of my head and gently rubs it and

  I almost lose my breath at that touch because it’s

  intimate, intense and important.

  All of this is damned important.

  Even if I’d like to run as far away as possible

  because I’m scared of what’s happening to me, I’m

  terrified and I con
fess that it makes me shake like

  a child at his first dentist appointment. I’m staying,

  because there’s no other place I’d rather be, there’s

  no other place where I could feel every emotion

  and every heartbeat directly from the heart.

  There’s no other place that I could know that

  love, perhaps, does exist.

  We kiss until we’re both breathless. I don’t

  know if it’s because of the kiss or the fact that I’ve

  been holding my breath since I touched down in

  Dublin, or the fact that I’m seriously having

  trouble getting air in my lungs. So, I lay her down,

  wrap her in my arms and keep her safe.

  All night, and all those nights to come.

  If she wants me.

  I squeeze her and give her the sense of security

  she needs to face what’s happening to her. I hold

  her to me, leaving her to breathe on my bare chest

  and let her take my shitty soul, that left alone with

  me would have been destined to burn in hell.

  And I let her fall asleep like that, while I don’t

  make a move, paralyzed by her presence, her

  sweetness and her ability to melt a heart in

  hibernation like mine.

  I don’t close my eyes all night. I want to stay

  awake, ready. I don’t want to miss even one of her

  breaths.

  I place my hands on her round abdomen and an

  emotion I’ve never felt before strikes me directly

  in the heart. I caress her skin slowly and inhale as

  much air as possible to find the courage to go

  ahead with this thing, not to pull back, not to hit

  the road running as usual.

  I want to be there.

  I want to remain here.

  This time I want to hear everything and take all

  that she’s got to give.

  I never thought I would have given in like this,

  not in a million years.

  And yet, here I am, with no shield, no mask and

  no weapons.

  I’m naked in front of her with my heart on my

  sleeve, vulnerable and all I can do is hope that

  she’ll be careful with it, like I will be careful with

  hers.

  14

  Erin

  Patrick left the apartment early this morning,

  telling me that he would be back at lunchtime and

  that he wanted to take me someplace. I don’t know

  what I’m doing and maybe neither does he, but I

  find myself in front of the mirror trying to make

  myself look presentable, hiding the bags under my

  eyes with a little bit of concealer. Getting dressed

  was even harder. I’m only at the beginning of my