A Love Worth Saving

by Amanda Canham

  He took a swig of his beer and stared out at the empty street, the darkness lit in pockets by the bright yellow street lights. Hell! If he kept thinking like this he’d never make it back to the party.

  Maybe…maybe…but no, he couldn’t skip it. Neither could he hide out here forever.

  Finally his phone buzzed, Travis’ name highlighted across the screen.

  ‘Hey man, what’s taking you so long?’

  ‘Hey Brad, how’s it going?’ It was Pierce, not Travis that greeted him, though it was hard to recognise him, his voice was so rife with tension. ‘I’ve got you on speaker here with myself and Travis.’

  Something was wrong. It had to be.

  Ana.

  His first thought, his only thought. Tension curdled his stomach, fear winding its way through him. Irrational fear. It had to be unfounded. But still…

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Pierce answered quickly. Too quickly. Tension wound even tighter in Brad’s gut.

  ‘We’ve had some family issues tonight,’ Travis elaborated.

  ‘Is she okay?’

  There was no need to specify who.

  ‘No. Not really, but I’m sure she will be. She just needs some time to calm down.’

  ‘We hope,’ Pierce added, and Brad could tell he wasn’t joking.

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘That’s why we’re calling. We were hoping you might know.’

  ‘Why would I know?’

  ‘So she hasn’t called you?’

  ‘No. Why?’

  ‘She took off, about a half hour ago. We’ve been out looking for her around the neighbourhood, but we can’t find her anywhere and she’s not answering her phone.’

  Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  The fear twisting through Brad tightened into a heavy, fist-sized lump. ‘Why did she take off?’

  ‘Dad told us he’s selling the house and—’

  ‘Dammit!!’ Brad couldn’t contain himself any longer. ‘Does he have any idea how much that place means to her? Does he?’

  ‘He thought she was better now. We all did. She’s got her own place, the new job with you. We thought she was settled, that she’d moved past it all.’

  ‘She’s only just coping in the new place. She needed that house as a safety net. She’s always needed…’

  But he couldn’t blame the Reeds for this. Not entirely.

  Maybe if he hadn’t fought with her last night. If he hadn’t shattered her hopes as well as his, she’d have been able to cope. But she wouldn’t have had the emotional grounding to get over the loss of him and her closest link to her mum within twenty-four hours of each other.

  ‘Did she drive off?’

  ‘No. She’s on foot. She couldn’t have gone far. We went after her straight away, but…’

  The knot of fear inside him doubled in size, tripled, started to choke him of all thought, all reason, until suddenly it burst into a bright cloud of inspiration.

  There was only one place she’d go.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As the chilled breath of night seeped up through the pine floorboards, the treehouse grew cold beneath her, but Ana didn’t notice. Streaks of moonlight shone down enough light to see the faded 1999 poster of David Boreanaz as Angel hanging on the wall opposite Ana. Though she stared at it, she really wasn’t seeing it. Fallen leaves and grass crunched beneath footsteps in the yard below, but Ana didn’t hear them either.

  All she could see, all she could hear, all she could think about, was her mum.

  Slow, soft tears trailed down her cheeks as the images played in front of her like an old-style movie, the memories a little faded with age. One moment her mum was laughing at a prank Travis had pulled on their dad, the next she was sitting in the living room, a cosy pile of pastel wools on her lap, knitting needles crossed in her hands as she made Ana her thirteenth scarf.

  In the next instant, a nine-year-old Ana was screaming that life wasn’t fair, and slamming her bedroom door in her mum’s face. She couldn’t even remember now what she’d been so upset about that night. It must have seemed frightfully important, because it had taken her hours to calm down, hours before she’d slunk out of her bedroom and slid onto the lounge next to her mum while she’d watched TV. Without saying a word, Mum had opened her arm, slid it around her and hugged her tight. She could almost feel her arm around her now, resting across her shoulders. She’d leaned into the embrace, cuddling her mum. ‘Love you,’ she’d whispered. ‘Love you more,’ her mum had answered. Ana could almost feel her breath whispering across her cheek.

  Her heart squeezed tight inside her chest. She ached to feel her, touch her, to say I love you, just one more time.

  Almost twenty years had passed since her mum died, but sometimes…sometimes the pain of her loss was as fresh as if she’d died just yesterday.

  She was supposed to be over this, over her by now. That’s why her dad wanted to sell. It was time to move on.

  But how could she ever be ready to forget her mother?

  ‘No one wants you to forget, baby.’

  Ana gave a strangled cry, startled beyond imagining by the words. Had her mum said them? There was no one here but Ana and the image…but even now the image was fading; the sight of her mum disappearing.

  The image may have vanished, but the arm around her—what she’d thought was her mum’s arm—was still there. The breath—her mum’s breath—was still whispering across her cheek. Except it couldn’t be her mum’s breath, or her mum’s arm, because her mum wasn’t here; she’d never be here again.

  As reality began to seep in Ana twisted around in the embrace and stared at the faint outline of familiar features in the moon’s dim light.

  ‘You’re here,’ she whispered.

  ‘Of course,’ he whispered back.

  Of course.

  He was her hero. Always had been, always would be.

  Suddenly, it didn’t matter so much if he couldn’t stay a whole night, if his own personal demons kept him away in the mornings. Because he came back. He always came back to her.

  Before she could think about it, before he could, she leant in and brushed her lips against his. Gently at first, but firmer by the second, moving in the familiar rhythm that was and always would be there’s alone.

  She melted into the kiss, pouring all of herself into it—all her love, her pain, her fears. Her hands moved to his shirt, working the buttons loose, ferocious with need. His fingers circled her waist, pushing at the fabric between them, pulling her shirt up and over her head, freeing her from the restriction of her top.

  They moved quickly after that. She worked the zipper on his pants loose, her fingers closing over him, pulling him free. He slid her pants down in one swift movement, her panties followed suit, his finger slipping inside her folds. After so many years, so much practice, he knew what she needed.

  It wasn’t just about the sex. She needed the comfort, the closeness that only he could give her. Together they tumbled to the floor, their breathing harsh and laboured as they tore at each other. He propped himself up above her, his legs pushing hers apart, and finally she had what she so desperately needed.

  Him. Inside her.

  He moved hard and fast, somehow knowing it was just what she needed. She pounded against him, urging him on, racing to finish. And then she reached it, and he reached it, and they tumbled over into the abyss where, just for a moment, she could forget everything—all the pain, the heartache, the loss—all gone in that one blissful instant.

  They lay together afterwards, their limb entangled, breath slowing, their hearts tumbling. Ana reached out a hesitant hand to run down his cheek. His head turned into her hand, nuzzling at her fingers almost of their own volition.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

  ‘My pleasure,’ he winked down at her, and she laughed as he’d intended her too. All the remaining tension eased out of her, unwinding the hours, the pain and distance between them.

  But
once the laughter was gone, the silence grew as reality sank in once again. Laying in their childhood sanctuary, her head cradled in his arm, Ana stared up at the ceiling. Slowly, without quite so much pain, she came to terms with her future.

  ‘I have to let go, don’t I?’

  ‘Of this house? Yes. Of your mum? Never.’

  ‘But how can I do one and not the other?’

  ‘This house doesn’t hold the memories of your mum. You do. In here,’ and he tapped her forehead lightly, ‘and in here,’ and he tapped her chest, just above her heart.

  ‘But it’s so hard to let go of here,’ she said, and sitting up she spread her hands wide, taking in not just the treehouse in which they sat, but the entire property. ‘When I walk through that front door I can still smell the fresh lavender she used to spray through the house. When I sit on the lounge I can almost feel her beside me, the way we used to sit every night and watch Neighbours together. When I step into the kitchen I see her standing at the island bench, pulling a fresh batch of cookies from the oven. If I let go of this house, I let go of all of that.’

  ‘Then you need something new to remember her by. Something you can keep on you always. You need…’ he broke off as he thought about it. His eyes wandered around the treehouse interior, rolling over her and then onto him, settling on the ring covering his right hand. ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Exactly what?’

  But instead of answering, he threw her discarded clothes at her. ‘Come on, get dressed, we’ve got to go.’

  ‘Go where?’ Ana repeated, not touching the clothes in her lap until she had the answer she needed.

  ‘It’s perfect, trust me,’ he grinned down at her as he slipped into his jeans, his dirty blond bangs swinging in front of his face.

  ‘But—’

  ‘Don’t you trust me?’

  ‘Of course, but—’

  ‘Then get dressed and come with me.’

  Ana stared up at him, hesitated a moment longer. But he was so excited, so sure he’d found the answer to what she needed. Maybe she should go just to see what he thought could help her.

  ‘Please Ana, let me do this for you.’

  The final plea won her over. Pushing up off her haunches, she dressed quickly and followed him down the treehouse ladder. He grabbed her hand as she came down and led her through to the street where he’d parked his car.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked once they were buckled into their seatbelts, engine roaring. He just glanced over at her and smiled, refusing to give her even a hint of his plans.

  Ten minutes later he pulled in to the parking lot of her apartment building.

  ‘You could have just told me we you were taking me home,’ she admonished as she hopped out of the car.

  ‘It’s not what you think,’ he told her, smiling mysteriously. He grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her away from the elevator and towards the street exit. Walking quickly, they weaved through the maze of streets in the Valley until he finally came to a halt in Brunswick Street Mall.

  ‘We’re here,’ he announced, and with a little dramatic flourish, he pointed towards a shop front window.

  Ana stared at the shop then threw her glance back at Brad. ‘You can’t be serious.’

  ‘Why not? It’s perfect. You will have a permanent reminder of your mum you can keep with you always.’

  When he put it that way, it did have some merit. But still…

  ‘You want me to get a tattoo?’

  ***

  Two hours—and a lot of pain—later, Ana had to concede he was right. For the third time in as many minutes she glanced down at the cursive script on the inside of her left wrist. The skin surrounding the black ink was still angry and inflamed, but despite that, for the third time in as many minutes, a smile spread across her face, warmth settled across her body, and she could almost hear her mum whispering the words to her.

  Love you more.

  They reached the security door at the entrance to her apartment building and Ana keyed in the pin automatically. The lock buzzed open and she pushed through the entrance, holding the door open for Brad.

  But he didn’t come in. Instead, he stood just outside the entrance, hands in his pockets, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

  ‘Aren’t you coming up?’

  ‘I don’t think I should.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Nothing has changed between us, Ana. I am so, so glad I could help you tonight, but I still can’t be the man you want me to be. I can never be that man.’

  The breath left her body at his words, the pain hitting her unawares. When he’d said words like these to her before, she’d thrown up a wall to protect herself, to look after her heart. But she wouldn’t do that tonight. She couldn’t. They’d come too far and she refused to let him go. Not this time.

  So instead of throwing up the instant wall of defence, of protection; instead of only hearing how his words affected her, she took a moment to break it down, and see what the words actually said about him.

  I can never be the man you want.

  How could he still not know that the only man she wanted was him? Tears pricked her eyes, shame swept through her body. The only reason he would think that was because she’d let him. Her words, her actions, every wish or dream that he could give her more had chipped away at his confidence in her, in them. He didn’t think he was enough because she’d made him think that.

  But that was going to stop. From now.

  She closed the distance between them, letting the door bang shut behind her as she wound her arms up his chest and around his neck. She felt him stiffen beneath her touch, felt him try to pull away, but she wouldn’t let him go. Not this time.

  ‘I’m going to tell you this once. And then I’ll tell it to you again the next time you need to hear it. And again and again, as many times as I need to say it to make up for all the pain I’ve put you through.’

  ‘What? It’s me who’s hurt you—’

  ‘But I’ve hurt you, too, Brad. I didn’t know I was doing it, but I can see it now. I can see…all you’ve ever done is try to help me, to protect me, to…to love me. And I…I…Oh, Brad, you have to know that you are all I need. You are all I want. All I will ever want. And I don’t need you to change. If you need to leave during the night, every night, for the rest of our lives I will still love you. I will always love you. And I’ll always be waiting for when you’re ready to come home.’

  He stared down at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. He stared at her for so long she almost forgot to breathe.

  ‘You’d do that?’

  The words were soft, disbelieving, as though he dared not hope it was true, and her heart broke and sang with joy simultaneously.

  ‘I couldn’t not do it. You are my everything, Brad. You always have been.’

  A deep shuddering sigh exhaled through his body, the arms he wrapped around her convulsing with emotion. ‘There’s no going back,’ he whispered into the top of her hair.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  His arms tightened at her words, his breath shuddering in and out even more ragged. He pushed her against the door, his head bending towards her, his lips hovering a fraction above hers.

  ‘I can’t let you go again.’

  She couldn’t tell if that was a promise or a threat, but she didn’t care, as long as he stayed true to his word.

  ‘Then don’t.’ She’d barely got the words out when his lips sank down on hers, promising everything his words, his eyes had, and more. It was a kiss to melt mountains; to raise rivers. It was a kiss to build a future on.

  But maybe not a kiss to block an entrance way with, Ana conceded when they were interrupted minutes later by a polite coughing behind Brad. A quick peek over his shoulder showed a group of twenty-something’s waiting to enter the building.

  ‘Oh my God. Sorry. We’ll um…we’ll get out of your way,’ Ana said hurriedly, twisting in his arms to key in the entrance PIN and crossed over the threshold.<
br />
  This time, he didn’t hesitate to join her.

  ***

  ‘Help! Help!’

  Brad woke from the dream with a start, Ana’s terror soaked voice still ringing through his ears. It took him a moment to get his bearings, to come back to this time and this place.

  Ana’s place.

  He was at Ana’s place. In Ana’s bed. With Ana beside him. A sleeping Ana beside him.

  As he put the pieces together, the fear started to settle, his breathing returning to somewhere near normal. He was soaked in sweat and his hands…his hands…he stared down at his blood soaked hands.

  He needed to clean them. He needed to scrub the blood from them. He couldn’t touch Ana with them. He couldn’t sully his beautiful Ana.

  He needed to get out of bed. He needed to get away.

  But…No, he didn’t want to get away. After such a beautiful night with his girl—his girl; he could finally say that—he didn’t want to leave.

  She’d said it was okay, though. She’d still love him, even if he wasn’t there in the morning.

  But he didn’t want to run away anymore. He was tired of running. Tired of hiding. She wasn’t the only one that wanted them to wake up together.

  Could he do it? Did he dare?

  All her life she’d trusted him to protect her. He’d felt the need to protect her. But she was the strongest woman he knew. Maybe it was time to trust her.

  ‘Ana,’ he whispered her name at first, hesitant, still not sure he was doing the right thing. She didn’t move.

  ‘Ana,’ he tried again, a little louder this time. She stirred, muttered something under her breath but continued sleeping.

  He needed to touch her, to shake her awake, but he couldn’t use his fingers, couldn’t use his hands. He refused to get this blood on her. Leaning down, he pushed his elbow against her shoulder and started rocking. ‘Ana. Ana, I need you to wake up.’

  Eventually she stirred, blinked her eyes wide open and stared up at him.

  ‘Brad. You’re here.’ Her voice held a tinge of surprise. Happy surprise. Joyful surprise, and he knew he’d done the right thing.