Healing my Heart: Book 2 - My Heart Series

by Michelle, Aleya

  Now I definitely need something funny to watch, after those intense emotions. I choose The Hangover just the humour I need that will take my mind off all the seriousness. I snack on some very unhealthy yet scrumptious Dorito’s and sip the now warm water from my drink bottle.

  I laugh out loud at the naked Chinese guy running around my TV screen. I stretch my arms up over my head. I’m feeling a bit nauseas and my eyes are feeling heavier by the minute, so I press pause on the movie midway and decide I need a nap.

  When I wake I realised I’ve slept for an hour and a half I’m feeling refreshed and no longer nauseas. Sitting up carefully to avoid bumping my leg I click open the lunch box Jemma packed for me, she is so cute.

  The contents include a ham and cheese sandwich cut into triangles, a green granny smith apple, and two chocolate chip biscuit’s, a handful of grapes and a necessity Cadbury chocolate. The best milk chocolate in the world!

  I hop up literally as that is the easiest way to avoid pressure on my bandage. I boil the kettle, make a bathroom trip and slowly make my way back to the lounge with my freshly made hot chocolate.

  I decide I better check my work and personal emails, and I come to the conclusion that whoever designed the spam my email is full of really should be shot… Delete. Delete. Delete.

  Next movie choice is Titanic. Well it really is kind of appropriate as I do feel like I am drowning in a sea of my own thoughts and indecisions…

  Chapter 7

  Kade

  I’m woken by the brightness of the sun, burning my eyes like a bitch. Damn how much did I drink last night? I finally get my eyes to open but I’m squinting at the glare. God my head is throbbing...

  I’m not in my room, shit.

  I look beside me to see an array of peroxide blonde hair splayed across my chest. The hair is so coarse and dry it feels like it is spiking my skin.

  Fuck Kade what did you do?

  Drinks at neighbours…then we moved onto the pub, where there were a lot of drinks and too many shots.

  I vaguely remember talking to a group of girls at the bar. “Hey aren’t you Kade Thomas?” the blonde with the curves asked me. “Yep that is me,” I answer her slurring from the amount of drinks I’ve consumed.

  “I love your surfing style, I surf myself. I’m Stacey,” she tells me as she leans seductively against the bar showing me her tits in her low top.

  Score!

  And well bobs your uncle here I am and I obviously shacked up with one of them. Stacey is that her name?

  There’s a scratch mark on my arm, another wild blonde that’s the last thing I need...

  Now to sneak out...

  I slowly move the straw like hair off my chest and slowly sit up inch by inch. I definitely don’t wanna be given the third degree by this bird. If only my head would stop pounding like a sledgehammer.

  Swinging my legs off the bed I stand, realising I’m fucking stark naked I search for my clothes. Bingo, one blue shirt near the door and black boardies on the edge of the blonde’s bed.

  I look back to her, she is so olive skinned and tanned. One leg is wrapped around the sheet showing me her muscly calves, nice body… I bet her face is dog ugly. I better get outta here before I find out the hard way.

  I creep towards the door, the floorboards creak slightly. Trying to be quiet I turn the door handle, open the door and close it behind me. I spot the timber front door and I scurry out of it and close it securely. Thank Christ.

  Now who the fuck was that and where the fuck am I?

  I am thanking Christ for Google maps on my phone, I can at least make my way to the main highway and get a bus. I chuckle to myself as I’m a good hour away from my place.

  I try and think back to the events of the night before, even though my head is pounding. I remember drinks started at Chad’s, then we walked down to the local pub and it was jam packed because there was a pool competition. I remember us drinking then a group of glamour’s talking to us. The name Stacey is ringing a bell, must be the Barbie doll whose bed I was in…

  More flashbacks…

  Oh yes that’s right, she pushed me up against the wall in the girls toilets, not shy one bit. Her nails dug into my back and down my arm. I look to see the scratch mark souvenir. What a fucking cat. We were getting hot and heavy in the bathroom. Pete will be proud of me…

  Still ten more kilometres to the highway. How the hell did we get to her place? Oh shit, dad must be wondering what the hell happened to me!

  Walking along I come to the realisation that besides Roxy this flimsy blonde is the only chick I’ve had sex with. I must admit I feel a little relieved I can add another notch to my belt, especially since Roxy had a few before me.

  Now I’m feeling kinda pissed that I can’t even remember the nasty details. Judging from the tanned, toned body I am sure it was decent.

  So why didn’t you stick around for seconds Kade?

  I already know the answer to my question. Roxy. The one and only.

  If a gorgeous blonde beauty willing to have sex with me at the drop of a hat can’t take my mind off her, than what in the fucking hell can?

  Chapter 8

  Digging up Some Dirt

  My stitches have healed nicely and the pain has faded but I’m sure the scar will be around for some time. Much like the scar in my heart.

  Dylan has been super smothering. He is still waiting on me hand and foot, messaging me every twenty minutes, calling frequent. He comes straight over after work and stays the night every single night.

  And then this…

  It’s my first day back at work and our receptionist, Rachael calls me to the front desk. “Delivery for Miss Thorne,” says a young guy dressed in very casual denim shorts and a plain black t-shirt. I see the wondrous bouquet of flowers he is holding. It’s full of camellias, roses, gerberas, baby breath. The bright pink, pastels purples, red, white, and sunshine yellow colours are quite lovely. The aroma is sweet much like perfume.

  “Yes that is me,” I answer him slightly unimpressed with Dylan and his wasting money on flowers. Even though they are stunning, they will only last a few days. Plus it is just another symptom of his overboard materialistic behaviour.

  “These flowers are for you,” he tells me handing me the gorgeous mixed bunch of brightly coloured flowers, nice gesture but too much.

  “Thank you,” I tell him with a polite smile, after all he is only doing his job. I remove the card to read it already knowing who it is from.

  Take it easy on your first day back baby, thinking of you always. -Dylan

  I can’t help but notice just how many varieties of flowers there are. Why does he get me the sixty dollar bunch when I’d be happy with the twenty dollar bunch? I know his job just pays an average wage and the jewellery, flowers and other gifts he buys are just not necessary. It would make sense if he was wealthy or rich, but not on his income.

  I send him a simple text.

  Thank you for the flowers. Did you forget our chat about over the top?

  I giggle to myself, I sound like a condescending mother. This guy has me acting like someone double my age…

  I hobble back to my desk; my leg is much better but still a little sore. I can’t help but admire my flowers and the aroma they are emitting while I work on my design for the new hairdressers franchise we have been appointed.

  Ironically enough they are called Scissors, pretty cool name, keeping up with the times they want an extremely modern look so I chose to make their logo a 3D hexagonal shape with a graphic of scissors as requested in a silver/grey.

  The background I’m using is Onyx black but with a vibrantpurple saturation colour to enhance the word Scissors.

  I then emboss over the heading for a unique looking texture and design. Perfect

  Oh I love it. My mind wonders to my own studio if it happens one day, and the fun I could have designing my own logos, artwork and presentations.

  I am side tracked from my work by my phone as it vibrates on the
desk. From the caller ID I see its Dylan calling. It has only been two short hours since I spoke to him at twelve, what could he possibly need so soon after lunch? Just when I think he takes a step back or listens I’m proven wrong. I’ve never been the type of girl that is clingy or overly attentive. I leave his call unanswered and continue with my design.

  My shiny purple phone vibrates again. Seriously? I don’t even want to check it but now I feel guilty just in case there is an emergency.

  Hi Roxy, thinking of you gorgeous. Call me.

  Nope, no emergency just as I assumed so I’m ignoring him. Work is my priority right now, I don’t get paid to answer his messages all day long.

  Since this is my first draft I double check that everything on my design is correct before I save it and send it to Neeta. She will take a look at it as well before sending it over to Glenda, the owner of Scissors to approve.

  For the third time in five minutes my fucking phone gets another message.

  Can’t you at least text me back Roxy?

  This guy is nuts, he wants me to text him back so bad. All the more reason this bad arse independent bitch is going to do nothing of the sort. Snap.

  With that my mind wanders to other people who are nuts, I’ve yet to hear back from Jemma about her idea to Facebook stalk. Her plan was to see if she could find out any background info on the brunette Candice chick that threw the bottle at me.

  I have a spare few minutes why not dig a little deeper myself?

  Let’s start with my friend Google, Google knows everything. I type in Dylan Rossi. How many other girls’ Google the guy they are dating? I’m sure tons.

  It takes me to Facebook, showing me he has a Facebook page, but I need to log in so I’ll do that later. Using the mouse I scroll down further. Nothing interesting is jumping out at me, so I add the word girlfriend.

  Well here we go. Listed below is an article on a car crash. I am intrigued as I know nothing of a car crash.

  A teenager has been arrested for drunk driving.

  Dylan Rossi is a well-known local in Frenchs Forest and a model student at Warrick High school.

  His girlfriend Cassandra Rowe was seriously injured in the accident and was hospitalised for nerve damage with a possibility she may become a paraplegic.

  Such a devastating incident for all involved.

  A court hearing will be set for Dylan and his age taken into consideration for his sentencing.

  Wow, that sounds pretty fucking intense. I can’t believe he has never mentioned it, I would say that is a god damn big secret. It is dated only eight months ago. Shit so what four months before we met?

  How did I not know about this?

  I try to investigate and Google more details but there is a dead end and nothing else comes up in my search. This situation has become messier than I could have imagined. Knowing Dylan’s temper and personality I need to find the right time to talk to him about this.

  This would explain why the ex-girlfriend’s friends hate him so much, but why was I the target?

  I can’t blame them for disliking him, especially if he got behind the wheel drunk and caused severe injuries to Cassandra.

  But it’s only fair to Dylan that I hear his side of the story, right? I wonder if his story of her cheating when they were engaged is true or another lie? My bet is she never forgave him for drunk driving.

  Or she saw his psycho side and fled as far away as possible.

  Feeling overwhelmed and pissed off, I need to talk to Jemma what I have discovered. I copy and paste the article and email it to her.

  I feel extremely confused right now after reading the shocking news article about Dylan and Cassandra. I’m also feeling smothered by the never-ending texts from him. I plan on telling Dylan I have a few practice exams for uni and need to be alone to study.

  I know quite well it won’t be a great reaction from him.

  In the car driving home from working I call his phone. “Hey beautiful,” he answers on the second ring obviously waiting for my call.

  “Hey Dylan. Sorry I couldn’t call you earlier, I was flat out with video calls and urgent designs all afternoon,” I lie to him to avoid twenty unnecessary questions.

  “A quick text is not too much to ask for Roxy,” he responds abruptly, obviously still caught up in the whole melodrama.

  “Sorry, next time I promise,” I tell him trying to sound sincere. “I have practice exams Friday for the big tests next week, so I am going to study all night. We will have to catch up tomorrow Dyl, okay?” I say to him hoping he will just be cool.

  “I can help you study sweetheart. I’ll quiz you in more ways than one,” he hints to me trying to sway my decision.

  “Dylan it’s just one night. I will get so much done with my head in the books, just tonight okay?” I plead with him. Should it be this hard to have time alone?

  “Okay fine,” he answers and abruptly hangs up.

  Um what the hell? Screw him; at least I got my free time.

  I take my time in the oasis of my shower, enjoying the warm spray of the water washing away insecurities and a million other dramas that are unfolding. I put on my purple satin pyjamas, they are so soft on my skin and are super comfortable too. I check the pantry and choose some popcorn feeling like a little something to snack on. While it’s popping away in the microwave I flick through my Cosmo mag catching up on the latest gossip.

  I love the smell of freshly cooked popcorn.

  I lie relaxing on the lounge with my soft mink blanket, and flick through the TV channels but nothing catches my attention. I grab my phone and text Jemma.

  Yo bitch I have the place to myself and I bet you are getting laid again am I right?

  There is no reply straight away so that pretty much confirms my suspicions, Still holding my phone I flick through calls and delete old messages, emails, and photos. Oh wow I really should do this more often. Dated back six months I find Kade’s name in a message.

  I love you now and forever my beautiful Roxy. Without you, my life was dull. You complete me.

  Wow. That was intense, how did I not realise it was still in there? Kade really loved me, worshipped me, made me complete as I did him.

  Exactly though, past tense, gone, finished. A single warm, salty tear falls from my eye, sliding down my cheek and onto my phone screen.

  Oh Kade, how did we go from being so perfect and in love and feeling like we would be together forever, to this? Not a single bit of contact, no closure and a lot of regret.

  I feel upset and angry so I throw my phone on the table and close my eyes, not wanting to think about anything anymore. I’m tired and grumpy and sleep is the only place I know I will find peace. With that I drift off to sleep.

  I am startled awake by a loud banging at the door. I look at the clock to see that it’s ten o’clock at night. Who the hell would that be? I look at my phone to see eight missed calls from Dylan and four messages. I unlock my phone and read his last one.

  Where are you Roxy? You are lying to me about studying. You are with someone else, I know it!

  Fucking hell.

  I can’t help but shake my head at the events unfolding. I’m feeling more like a character in Days of our lives and not your average twenty-five year old just trying to enjoy her life.

  “Roxy I know you’re in there, open the door!” Dylan screams in a voice I’ve never heard before.

  “Okay, I’m coming Dylan,” I say to him and rush to open the door before he breaks it down.

  I unlock the door and he pushes aggressively past me and races inside. I see rage in his eyes; his body is shaking with anger.

  “Where the fuck is he Roxy?” he asks me still screaming. He runs into my bedroom, opening my wardrobe, slamming doors, then into Jemma’s room and the bathroom, then the rest of the apartment.

  “Where is who Dylan? You have lost your mind. I told you I was studying, it is just me here alone,” I reply to him trying to make this psycho see some sense.

  “I call
ed you eight fucking times Roxy. This is ridiculous, I don’t believe you. Why didn’t you answer your phone?” he orders me to answer now pointing in my face.

  “I fell asleep on the lounge. Look, see the blanket and the TV on. I can’t believe you don’t trust me.

  You are turning into a fruit loop Dylan,” I tell him honestly as this pussy footing around his behaviour is not helping one bit.

  “A fruit loop Roxy, a fucking fruit loop? Well you are making me this way, you are the cause of my behaviour,” he yells at me crazily really scaring me.

  “A phone is a way for someone to contact another person. If you don’t answer it what is the goddamn point of having one? What would you think if you rang me eight bloody times and I didn’t answer?” he questions.

  “I must have left the stupid phone on silent. I didn’t even realise, I was so tired from work and it’s been a draining few weeks,” I tell him feeling nauseas and shaky myself.

  Dylan walks over and clambers down on the lounge; he roughly runs his hands through his hair and puts his head on his knees. Feeling very conflicted I don’t know whether to attempt to calm him down and be sympathetic or to scowl at him to get the hell out of here for being such a jealous arsehole.

  He looks up at me now looking much calmer. “Shit Rox, I think I over reacted,” he confesses to me finally realising just how much he has stuffed up.

  “You make me so crazy do you know that?” he asks me rhetorically. “I just can’t handle not being with you and then the thought of you being with someone else crossed my mind and I really lost it.”

  “I am crazy in love with you Roxy,” Dylan admits to me and I realise he just said he’s in love with me.

  I have been waiting for it. Actually I have been dreading this moment. I just don’t feel love for him, not at all. Sometimes I don’t even like him or the way he behaves if I’m being honest. I guess I’m still with him out of respect, for the way he saved me when Kade left. I also feel guilt, knowing he had his heart broken too. I don’t want to be the one to do that to him again.

  I decide to sit next to him on the sofa as I’m sure he is quite vulnerable right now after pouring his heart out to me. He lovingly puts his hand on my knee and squeezes. “I am sorry. Once again I overreacted Roxy,” he tells me sincerely and his baby blue eyes look so caring and deep, damn it, they get me every time. How can I walk away? He really cares, maybe just too much.