Collision

by K. A. Sterritt

  “I. Just. Want. To. Breathe.”

  “Relax. Just listen to my voice, okay? I’m going to count to ten.”

  As I counted, I could see her breathing slow down and her body uncoil. God, she was so beautiful. She was strong and brave one minute then a vulnerable, hot mess the next. Apologising one minute then throwing sass the next. I’d never known a girl with so many layers of beauty and torment, but it felt like my soul had recognised its mate in Juliette’s.

  “I think it’s time I went home. I shouldn’t have come here.” Her whisper snapped me out of my thoughts.

  I’d convinced her to sit down in the shade under the large magnolia tree for ten minutes to ensure her breathing had completely returned to normal. We didn’t speak in that time. We just sat in silence.

  “I’ll drive you home in your car. I can get the train back for my car tomorrow. I don’t think you should drive.”

  She contemplated my offer for a few seconds before nodding her acceptance. Another hour with her was the added bonus to my peace of mind.

  I drove Juliette home to her apartment in the city. We barely spoke, but for some reason I knew her thoughts were as loud as mine. I parked the car and walked her to the lift in the lobby, feeling like it was the end of a first date when you don’t quite know what to do. She pressed the call button on the lift then bit her lip, unable to look me in the eye. I wanted to bite her lip and I wanted her to invite me up. But I also wanted her to be single. She had enough shit going on in her life and quite frankly, so did I.

  “Why did you go into my house?” I suddenly had to know.

  Her eyes snapped to mine and they conveyed so many things, yet I understood nothing. “I didn’t know it was your house.”

  I cocked my head. “That wasn’t my question.”

  Her smile warmed my heart, and I knew I needed to be responsible for many more of them. “I don’t really know. I felt drawn to it somehow. Maybe I’m the stalker.”

  We both smiled. I really liked this girl, whoever she was.

  “Thank you, Leo. And thank you for the lift.” She clenched her teeth and scrunched her nose. “I’m sorry I’ve inconvenienced you.”

  “It’s no bother.”

  I touched her arm briefly, and I could’ve sworn her body shivered. “Well, I guess I’ll see you round, then?”

  “No doubt we’ll run into each other.”

  The lift door opened and she walked in and turned around to face me. Our eyes locked for the last few seconds before the heavy grey doors closed, stealing her away from me.

  I turned but only made it halfway across the lobby before the blood in my veins went cold—I was now face-to-face with Isabel Fontaine. She was a little intimidating when bossing her staff around, but at that moment she looked more like the mythical creature Medusa with snakes for hair, turning everyone to stone.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed.

  The cogs in my brain turned too slowly to make up a believable lie on the spot. I wasn’t much of a liar anyway, and I’d done nothing wrong. “I just dropped Juliette home.”

  “And why, pray tell, would you be doing anything with my daughter?”

  “She had a panic attack, and I drove her home in her car as I didn’t think she should be driving. I’m going home now.”

  She was silent for a minute, probably deciding whether I was telling the truth. I’d left out a few details, but I hadn’t lied.

  “Okay. Well, I’d rather you stayed away from her. I can’t have my friends seeing her with my staff. People talk, if you know what I mean, and she’s with Richard.”

  “I’m aware of her status, Mrs Fontaine.”

  “Juliette is unstable. She needs what Richard can give her and she needs to focus on securing him.”

  I just stood there listening to the biggest load of crap I thought I’d ever heard. Juliette was dealing with a psycho mother and a dickhead who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her. My blood had gone from cold to hot and was reaching boiling point when she continued.

  “I saw the way she was looking at you last night and it was highly inappropriate. She needs to focus on the prize. You are a distraction.”

  And the prize would be… Richard? I wondered to myself. Richard was a prize douchebag.

  “I just dropped her home. No big deal.”

  “Look. Richard plans to propose soon. It’s what I’ve always wanted. I mean, what she’s always wanted.” It now appeared she was talking to herself, despite addressing me, mumbling almost incoherently. “We’re so close. Richard and Juliette will be married soon.” She opened her eyes wider and poked me in the chest. “If you mess this up for me, I’ll kill you.”

  I felt awkward and wanted to get the hell away from the crazy woman. I was starting to get a clearer picture of Juliette’s life, and it wasn’t nearly as pretty as she was. “I’d better go.”

  “You’re a liability. I could put up with my friends flirting with you, but not my daughter. She needs to focus on Richard, and I can’t always be watching her.”

  “With all due respect, Mrs Fontaine, I don’t think you’re giving Juliette enough credit. She’s a grown woman who can make her own decisions.” I didn’t care if I was speaking out of turn at that point. She probably wasn’t going to hire me again anyway, so I had nothing to lose speaking my mind. “She’s a strong and beautiful woman, and I don’t think Richard is worthy of her. Not the other way around.”

  “I think you should return to whichever backwater you come from.” Medusa hissed again, this time with an extra dose of venom.

  “My pleasure.” I walked past her towards the glass doors with my head held high. She had sucked all the air out of the room, and I didn’t need to be around her another second.

  “Stay away from Juliette,” she shouted.

  I didn’t turn around. “No chance,” I replied under my breath. I was going to walk away, but I would see Juliette again. My heart and soul wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Juliette

  “You’re a liability. I could put up with my friends flirting with you, but not my daughter. She needs to focus on Richard, and I can’t always be watching her.”

  I’d returned to the lobby to retrieve my mail and suddenly wished I’d let another day go by without it. I was startled and horrified to hear my mother’s angry voice directed towards Leo when the lift doors opened.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” I whispered through gritted teeth.

  I shuffled sideways to hide behind the enormous indoor plant feature to my right. The voyeur in me wanted to listen to their conversation before interrupting them.

  I missed Leo’s response but was again horrified by my mother’s words.

  “I think you should return to whichever backwater you come from.”

  “My pleasure.” His response was absolutely warranted but nonetheless devastating.

  “Stay away from Juliette,” she shouted.

  Instead of going back to the lift, I bolted for the door to the stairs and took them two at a time. I was on the fifth floor and I barely acknowledged the pain in my muscles as I ascended.

  With the searing memory of Leo’s eyes on me, his brief touches, his burning energy pulsing from every pore of his body, I knew I needed to get my head on straight and make some hard decisions about my future. I was done with the crazy, sanity-preserving bullshit. I was done with the guilt that served only to fester in my soul and my withering idea of who I was.

  I didn’t think I’d ever felt more alone. I was a twenty-five-year-old woman living the life my mother had planned for me. I walked on eggshells and it had gone on for too long. On paper, I was the perfect daughter she could be proud of, but in reality I was just an illusion. As a young girl, I’d worn pink tutus with wings sown onto sequined tops. She’d dressed me up as fairy princesses, and I’d worn veils, pretending to be a bride. I did ballet, drama and even a few modelling shoots for high-end kids’ clothing companies. In the end-of-ye
ar ballet concerts, my mother would meltdown if I wasn’t the little girl in the limelight. I’d feel ashamed and would vow to do better, even though I was more than happy to be a part of the backdrop.

  I had never been perfect nor a princess. As an adult, I wanted to get my hands dirty, drive too fast, go to illegal fight nights, wear comfortable clothes, and allow myself to feel the way I felt about Leo whenever I was around him.

  The desire to let myself drown under the pressure had always been overwhelming. There was something about Leo that made me want to throw myself off a bridge and then swim upstream like my life depended on it, because in a way, it did. Leo, or maybe even just the idea of Leo, made me want to scale rock faces with my bare hands and then stand at the summit and scream his name. I had a steely bravery within me, screaming to find a way out and into my everyday life—I think I always had. It was stifled by oppressive parents who had told me I was weak, an ingrained guilt laid on me all my life.

  A child’s need to please their parents can last a lifetime. Pleasing mine was like being on a treadmill set to a speed I wasn’t quite fit enough for, but the idea of stepping off was daunting. My mother controlled the buttons and knew when to push them. If she sensed me getting ready to slow from a run, she’d increase the speed or the incline. I stepped up every time, thinking it would make her happy. By even noticing, she was paying attention, and I took solace in that. My father wouldn’t notice if I fell off the treadmill and broke my neck. Having no one care about me seemed far worse than the pressure of living someone else’s life.

  When the knock on my apartment door came minutes later, I braced myself, knowing I was about to make my mother cry.

  She wanted a key, but I always managed to ‘forget’ to get one cut. Before opening the door, I looked through the peephole at her for a few seconds, enjoying the fisheye view as she impatiently awaited entry. The optical lens made her head appear abnormally large and her eyes bug-like. Her stern features were distorted, transforming her into a crazy caricature.

  Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.

  “Well, it’s about time, Juliette,” she huffed, storming past me into my apartment, which suddenly felt very small. “It’s rude to let me stand out there waiting.”

  “Hello, Mother.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Don’t use that tone with me. I’m very upset.”

  Here we go, I thought to myself.

  She dropped the stack of bridal magazines on the coffee table and sat down gracefully on my lounge. She nodded her head towards the other chair. I complied with her wishes, knowing it was best we were both sitting down for this conversation.

  “Richard and I are worried about you,” she began. “He thinks you’ve lost sight of what’s important and you really need to sort yourself out.”

  “Richard thinks that, does he?”

  “Richard is a very smart man, Juliette. He takes care of all the tricky money side of my foundation. I’m so lucky to have him. We’re so lucky to have him.”

  “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I can’t be with Richard anymore and I certainly can’t marry him.” I looked at the floor and steeled myself before looking her in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

  “What?” Mother asked, going pale. “Don’t be so ridiculous, Juliette. Richard is the best thing to ever happen to you.” After a few-second pause where neither of us said anything, her eyes narrowed as she leaned forward and went for the jugular. “After everything I’ve done for you, you owe me. I need this.”

  I stood up and started pacing, unable to sit still for a second longer. “I don’t love him, Mum. Sometimes I don’t even like him. How can you want that for me?”

  “Sit down, Juliette. I don’t know where all this is coming from, but I don’t like it. Has it got something to do with the muscled-up bartender?”

  I stopped pacing and turned so I could look her right in the eyes. She needed to hear this.

  “This is about me. Me!” I clutched my chest. “This is to do with me not wanting to be with someone I’m not in love with. And this has to do with you being far too invested in every aspect of my life. I’m a grown woman and I’m not a puppet.” I took a deep breath before saying the words I’d wanted to say for so many years. “I’m not you, Mum.”

  She was already pale, but my words appeared to drain the rest of the blood from her face, and her eyes glazed.

  I walked over and sat down next to her. Tears were welling in her eyes, so I put my hand over hers. “I’m not you, Mum. I never have been and I’ll never be what you want me to be.” I squeezed her hand and waited until she looked at me. “You have to see that.”

  She was mumbling to herself and refusing to look at me, so I continued my attempts to break through to her. She pulled her hand from mine and started nervously picking at a loose thread on her skirt. I wasn’t even sure if she’d heard anything I’d said. It was unnerving. She appeared to be having some kind of internal meltdown, and I feared her face might crack.

  “Sorry, Mum.” I blew out a long sigh, knowing my determination had dissolved in a pool of emotional guilt. “Say something, Mother,” I implored.

  “You have more of me in you than you realise, Juliette, but I think enough has been said today.” She stood up and smoothed her skirt down her legs. “You need to cool off. I’ll expect a phone call from you tomorrow apologising for this unnecessary friction. I don’t have time for your immature failings.” She finally looked me in the eye. “Grow up, Juliette. Marriage isn’t all hearts and flowers, and you’re naïve to think it is. Richard is perfect for you and I don’t want to hear another word otherwise.”

  She turned and walked towards the door, stumbling a little on the edge of my rug.

  Neither of us said goodbye.

  For the rest of the day, I tried in vain to escape into my books. Leo was never far from my thoughts, and I kept finding myself reading the same lines over and over, wondering what he was doing at that moment. Was he thinking about me? Did he feel the connection I had felt?

  I went to bed that night thinking about my life up to that point. If I looked at the positives, I had a decent job, I had somewhere to live and I had my health. Those were the things I could cling to in the light of day. At night, when everything felt more daunting and inexplicable, I found myself dwelling on how weak and pathetic I felt, allowing my life to be forged by anyone other than me. There was more to me than pretty dresses and polite conversation, but every year that passed me by, I was slipping further and further into that life, and it scared the hell out of me.

  I let out the tears I’d been choking on for too long. I sobbed the big, ugly tears I’d always been too afraid to release. The flood gates opened and my whole body started to shake. I screamed in frustration and beat my fists against my pillow.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Juliette

  I called to apologise to my mother the next day like the good daughter I was, but the seed of doubt had been planted in my mind. Was I helping her by pretending to be someone I wasn’t? For as long as I could remember, I’d tried so hard to be what she needed me to be. I loved my mum. I wanted her to be happy, and that’s what always drove me to accept the responsibility of preventing her breakdowns. My need for an adrenaline hit was at an all-time high.

  To make matters worse, Richard was become increasingly attentive. He and my mother had clearly talked. I’d exhausted every excuse under the sun to avoid him, but he was waiting outside the gym on Thursday evening after my vigorous training session with Zac.

  “How was your class?” he asked after kissing my cheek, appearing somewhat interested for the first time.

  “Great, thanks.” I took a deep breath and summoned the energy to converse. “How was your day?” I then summoned further energy to remain present for his reply.

  “Fantastic. My speech on Saturday night definitely had its desired effect on the attendees.” He put his arm around my shoulders as we started to walk, and I tried not to flinch. “I’ve signed thr
ee new accounts this week, and one of them signed up to the premium service.”

  “That’s great. Congratulations.” I tried to sound enthusiastic, but I was just irritated. He could’ve been talking about saving baby seals and it would’ve rubbed me up the wrong way though. I had to find a better way to handle it, or my life was just going to get a whole lot harder to tolerate.

  As we crossed the bridge, Richard stopped. “I have something for you,” he said as he reached into his pocket.

  I stared at his pocket, horrified, because I already knew what it was going to be.

  He opened his hand and sure enough, a small padlock lay innocently on his palm. I looked in his eyes, searching for anything genuine or true. I found nothing, and it made my heart hurt. I didn’t want to even pretend we had an unbreakable love and, very clearly, neither did he. Why was he doing this?

  “I got our initials engraved on it during my lunch break today.” He sounded proud of this achievement. “Are you surprised?”

  “I um… yes. Yes, Richard. I’m surprised. You seemed so against the whole thing just last week. What changed?”

  “I don’t want to lose you, Juliette, and if clipping a silly padlock on a bridge helps, I’ll do it.”

  And just like that, I wanted to throat punch him. He had completely missed the point on every level, and I’d never felt more depressed about our relationship than I did at that moment.

  Regardless of my lacklustre reaction, he clipped it to the railing as I watched on, nauseated. The more I thought about it, the more irritated I became. He was an obnoxious narcissist and he was making my skin crawl.

  “So I’m supposed to throw the keys in the river?” He looked at me, holding them up. “Do you want to do the honours?”

  Not a chance. “You do it. You went to all the trouble, after all.” I tried to keep the sarcasm to a minimum.

  I stood against the railing and watched the two small keys, bonded together by a tiny silver ring, sail through the air. Instead of the romantic moment I imagined it was meant to be, it felt like I was watching my self-worth plummet into the murky water and disappear. I needed to get away from there. I needed to escape before another panic attack took hold.