The Beginning

by Teigen Harper

  Exhausted, I slumped my body across his. While brushing my hair away from my face, he says, “You are amazing, Cass.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.” I chuckle. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.” His hands are on my back, and I can feel his thumbs circling on my skin.

  “What happens tomorrow when your parents come back? Will I still see you, and are they going to be okay with this?”

  His face fills with confusion. “Why would I stop seeing you just because my family will be home?”

  "I broke up with a guy before I left Australia because I never heard from him. The first few months were great, even though I wasn’t sleeping with him, but then he drifted. He drifted from me and our relationship. He expected me to be around when he was ready. I wouldn’t see him for two weeks at a time, sometimes. And considering what we just did together, I’m not sure you’ll want to hear the rest.” I cringe.

  “Nothing you can say will change my opinion of you. We both have a past. A past that doesn’t matter now. My life didn’t start until I met you,” he says as he brushes his lips against mine. Holy hell, his life didn’t start until he met me? Is he in this for the long haul?

  I take a deep breath in. “With Mitchell, the ex-asshole, I thought that sex would mend the relationship, fix it somehow. But the moment he was finished, he was out the door, and he didn't call me or text or me. There was no communication, whatsoever. The next time I saw him was at a friend’s funeral. I was so mad that I broke up with him there and then. It was brutal. But now I’ve met you, I regret not waiting until I found you,” I say sheepishly. I already know how I feel about him.

  He lifts one of his hands and rests it on my cheek. “As I said, the past is the past. Let’s forget about it. I can’t believe how he treated you,” he says, leaning in, kissing my temple. “It was as if you were a second-class citizen. He had you. What was he, a huge fuck head or something? He must have been to treat you the way he did. You’re such an incredibly sweet person who puts everyone else’s welfare before your own.” He takes my hand in his and laced our fingers. “Did he tell you he loved you?”

  I nod. “Yeah, but looking back now, I don’t think he ever meant it.” I shrug. I'd spent many sleepless nights before meeting Tristan, wondering if Mitchell did love me at any point, and my gut told me he never did.

  “Asshole, he must have made you feel like shit, especially after sleeping with you. And then the prick doesn’t even call you. What the fuck is that shit? He needs a bullet.”

  “I don’t know. I’m just going to forget he ever existed. I don’t need that negativity weighing down on me.” Tristan envelops me in his arms and holds me close, so close I don't know where he ends and I begin.

  Nuzzling his face into my neck, he says, “Good plan. I swear I will do my best to make sure you don’t ever remember him and how he treated you. You deserve so much more, Cass. Why would you stay with him for so long? That’s the part I don’t understand.”

  I don’t want to answer the question because the answer makes me feel like the stupidest fucking idiot that ever walked the earth. “I thought I loved him, but I know now that I didn’t.”

  He kisses my neck, which soon enough, leads to more sex. But eventually, we become exhausted and fall asleep wrapped up in one another’s arms.

  When I wake the next morning, I open my eyes and smile when I see that Tristan is propped up on his elbow, staring at me. “Good morning, baby girl.” I am absolutely in love with his pet name for me. It makes me all warm and gooey inside and is also something I'll never admit to out loud. “Glad to see that you managed to get some sleep,” he smirks.

  I prop myself up onto my elbow so my face is level with his. “We had to finish sooner or later.” I smile while I run my finger along the tanned skin of his arm.

  “I would have preferred later," he chuckles as he leans in and kisses me. The kiss alone sets my libido on fire, so I grab him and pull him to me, and I realize that I never, ever felt this way about Mitchell. Not even at the beginning of our relationship. I wonder if that is a sign of good things to come?

  By 10:00 AM we’re both hungry and thirsty, so Tristan calls down to the kitchen and places an order with the chef. He holds out a silk bathrobe for me, and I slip my arms in, as I do, he turns me to face him, and he ties it up for me. I would have preferred we didn’t get dressed at all, but hey, we have to eat.

  Tristan then finds another robe, and to my dismay, he covers himself up with it. “Would you like to have breakfast out on the balcony?” he asks.

  “That sounds like perfection.” I’m not into romance, but I’m pretty sure sitting out on the balcony having breakfast together, is crazy romantic.

  Within no time at all, the food is delivered and Tristan hands me a cup of coffee. I look up at him. “God, you are so beautiful,” I say.

  “Are you talking to me or the coffee?” he asks, giving me a sideways glance.

  Tristan already knows of my terrible caffeine addiction. “I want to say both.” I scrunch my face up.

  “You can tell me you're talking to the two of us, but in my heart, I know you’re only talking about the coffee,” he pouts.

  I begin to laugh, and it is the sweetest feeling in the world. I have a sexy ass guy who adores me sitting in front of me, a strong vanilla latte in my hands, and a landscaped garden laid out before me that's to die for. At this moment, life seems pretty damn perfect. That is, of course, if you don’t count the fact that I have a dying father in the next street, but for the moment, I want to be selfish, I need to forget the outside world and focus on the now.

  After finishing breakfast, Tristan drives me back to Carol and George’s house. If my father weren't so sick, I would have stayed in bed with Tristan until his parent’s arrival tonight.

  Taking his hand in mine, I lead him around the first floor in search of my dad. Soon enough, I find him lounging on the sofa in one of the living rooms. “Hey, love. Hi, Tristan,” he greets us as we approach.

  We say hello in unison, then I rest my butt on the edge of the sofa beside him, careful not to move him too much. “So, Dad, how are you feeling this morning?”

  He shifts to his side, giving me a little more room to sit. “Not too bad. I’m planning on a quiet day. I want to rest for the moment.”

  I take his hand in mine. “Good thinking. I can’t have you wearing yourself out.”

  He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “So, how was your night?”

  My face lights up. “So freaking cool! You should see the bar they have set up in that house, Dad. It’s like you’re in an actual pub. It’s ridiculously awesome.”

  “I may need to see this for myself.” Dad winks at Tristan.

  He leans in and taps my dad’s shoulder. “You’re welcome anytime, Pat. I’m going to head off, I have a few things to get done before my parents get back tonight.”

  “Send them my regards,” Dad tells him.

  Tristan gently shakes my father’s hand. He sees what I’m seeing. My dad is becoming more fragile. So much for forgetting all the shit that goes on around me. This is reality slapping me in the face, telling me to wake the fuck up and stop being selfish.

  “I will. We’ll have to arrange a get-together,” Tristan replies.

  “Sounds good to me, son.” Dad lowers his head back down on the pillow.

  I walk with Tristan hand in hand to the front entrance. “I’ll call you later,” he tells me.

  “I look forward to it.” I smile, and he leans in and kisses me.

  “Bye, baby girl.”

  “Bye.” I close the door behind him and head up to my room for a long, hot shower.

  Tristan’s parents invite me to have dinner with them the following Sunday. My stomach is feeling a little queasy as I walk up to the grand entrance of their home. I swear it wasn’t this intimidating when I stayed here before. When the door opens, I breathe a sigh of relief when I see Tristan.

  He leans in and kisses me
, then takes my hand and whispers, “You’ll be fine. My parents are cool people.” I love how well he knows me already.

  “I believe you,” I tell him, and he gently squeezes my hand in a show of support. But I swear he's laughing at me under his breath.

  As he leads me through to the dining area, I see a very tall, slender woman with long blonde hair placing cutlery down on the table. Immediately, I notice that Tristan looks just like her.

  She looks up, and when she sees us, she races to be by our side. “My, God, Cassie. I haven’t seen you since you were just a little girl. You’re so grown up now, and not to mention stunning,” she tells me while fingering my long blonde hair.

  “Thank you. I’m sorry, but I don’t remember anything about that trip. I was only six.”

  She takes me in her arms and hugs me. “Of course, you don’t. I’m Karan, Tristan’s mother.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I tell her sincerely. Karan seems sweet. I wish I’d had a mother like her growing up. I might not have been as fucked in the head if I had.

  She then pulls away so that she can see me. “Come and sit with me for a moment.” She takes my hand in hers and leads me into the vast living area. I sit on the lounge and Karan takes the spot beside me. “So, Tristan tells me your father’s sick?” she asks, my hand still in hers.

  I nod and take a deep, calming breath. Talking about my father’s condition brings my emotions to the surface, and I much prefer to keep them buried deep down where they can’t be accessed. “Yes, I love being here in Ireland, but the circumstances around this trip are devastating. Us being here is one of his dying wishes.”

  She now takes both of my hands in hers, and she does the dreaded head tilt. You know the one I'm talking about, the, ‘Oh, my dear, that is just so sad to hear. And how are you coping?’ head tilt.

  “I’m okay for the moment,” I respond to the non-verbalized question. “I’m managing to keep myself together. My dad did mention he'd love to catch up with you while we're still in Ireland.” I feel I'm grasping at straws. I hate talking about my father’s health. I need to deflect, fast.

  “I’d love to catch up with Patrick, and I’m sure that Brendan, Tristan’s father, would also like to see him. Just let me know what he can eat, and I will set it up with the chef.” I love how Karan is so accommodating.

  “That's very thoughtful of you, but would it be okay if we did it at Carol’s? Dad isn’t as strong as he used to be and leaving the house is becoming difficult.” My gaze shifts to my hands. “He’ll push himself to leave, to try to prove to me that he's okay, but he’s not. He won’t ever admit it in front of me, but he's in the worst shape of his life.” My body tenses, trying to stop any tears from forming and falling down my cheeks. I hate pity, and if I start crying now, Karan will again give me the ‘head tilt.’ Again.

  Her hands tighten around mine. “How stupid of me. Of course, we can get together whenever he’s ready.”

  I let my eyes drift up to hers. “No, you’re not stupid. You haven’t seen him since he's been back. There’s no way you could’ve known the condition he’s in.” I try my hardest to smile, but I know that it doesn’t reach my eyes.

  Suddenly, a voice from behind me booms. “Tristan, this one is a definite keeper.” I turn to face the direction in which the voice is coming from. That’s when I spot an older man with an utterly adorable face, coming towards me. “Hi, love. I’m Tristan’s dad, Brendan.”

  Karan lets my hands go so I can stand and greet Brendan properly. He envelops me in his arms and kisses my cheek. When we pull away, I tell him, “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Holy shit,” Brendan says, surprise on his face. “You really should keep her around. This one has manners.” I can see the dirty look Tristan’s throwing in the direction of his father. Brendan also notices it and waves him off. “Sorry, Cassie. It’s just that some of the girls he’s brought home in the past talked like they had just walked out of a brothel.”

  At first, I’m stunned into silence, but mere moments later, I’m laughing to the point I can’t breathe. Just the thought of whore bags hanging around here is enough to bring tears to my eyes. Tears of joy, that is.

  Brendan then slaps his hand on Tristan’s back. “Look at that, Tristan. She knows how to take a joke, too. Cassie, you’re not going anywhere if I can help it.” He laughs.

  Chapter Nine

  After eating a fabulous dinner that was filled with starch and carbs, we all head back into the living room. From what I can tell about the Irish, there aren't many occasions that aren’t celebrated with a drink. I’m pretty sure that if I announced to the room I was going to go for a shit, they’d make me do a toast and skull a shot of whisky first.

  When the evening comes to a close, I approach Brendan and Karan. “Thank you so much for making me feel so comfortable and welcome in your home.”

  Karan takes me in her arms. “No problem, it was a lovely evening. You’re welcome back here anytime.” Her smile is genuine.

  Brendan gently pulls me from her arms and envelops me in his embrace. “Anytime at all. We hope to see you around, a lot more, Missy.” It sounds strange, even to me, but Brendan feels safe. Safe, as in, I can trust him.

  When my arms are freed, I point toward Tristan. “If he's had enough of the brothel creepers, and decides to keep me around, then I do hope I get to spend more time with you.” And I mean it because it's the truth. Karan and Brendan are beautiful people, they also burst out laughing.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Tristan tells me as he pulls me from his father’s grasp and kisses me. Something Mitchell would never have done in front of his family.

  I look up at him. “I’d better get back and check on dad. I worry about him and his stubborn ways.”

  Karan comes forward and takes my hand. “Give him our love. And if you need anything at all, even if it’s just to vent after a hard day, please don’t hesitate to drop by.” Karan turns her attention to Tristan. “Be sure to save mine and your father’s numbers in Cassie’s phone.” She then looks back at me. “Never feel that it’s too early or too late in the day to call. If you don’t feel up to anything, or you need to take a breather, just call.”

  My eyes well, and I begin furiously swiping at my face, not wanting them to see my tears. “Thank you,” I choke on my words. “That means more to me than anything else, right now. I genuinely appreciate your kindness,” I tell them, and as I do, I feel the tears escape and trickle down the sides of my face.

  Tristan cups my face in his hands and uses his thumb to wipe the tears away. “Don’t cry, baby girl.” He then takes me in his arms. “It’s going to be okay. I know we only just started seeing each other, and I don’t want to scare you by saying this, but I will always be here for you, no matter what,” he whispers in my ear.

  My heart skips with his words. Maybe his feelings for me are as strong as mine are for him? “Thank you.” That is all I can manage to whisper in return.

  He gently squeezes me in his arms, then tells me, “Come on, let’s get you back so you can check on your dad.”

  I nod my head and again hug Karan and Brendan goodbye. I don’t feel up to driving tonight, so Tristan gets behind the wheel of my car and drives us back to Carol and George’s.

  By the time we get to the house, I find my dad in one of the armchairs. I stand back and watch him for a moment. I want to take in the image of his peaceful, pain-free moment of him sleeping. A moment later, I kneel in front of him and gently tap him on the knee. He opens his eyes slightly, and when he sees me, he smiles. “Hey, love. How was your dinner with Karan and Brendan?” he whispers.

  “It went really well. They are such kind-hearted people, but I’ll fill you in tomorrow. Come on. I’ll help you up to your room.”

  He nods his head in return. I take his arm and link it through my own while Tristan does the same to his other arm, and we help dad into the elevator then up into his room where I tuck him in bed and kiss him goodnight. Within mom
ents, he's fast asleep.

  As soon as we have stepped out of his room and into the hallway, I close the door, and Tristan takes me in his arms. With my cheek resting on his chest, I ask, “Can you stay with me tonight? I’ll understand if you can’t now that your parents are back.” Okay, I know that Tristan is twenty-three and a man, but I don’t know what kind of restrictions his parents have in place. You know the ones I’m talking about, the ‘while you live under my roof you will abide by our rules,’ kind.

  “Of course, I can stay. Come on, let’s get you all snuggled up.” He leads me into the bedroom, and I change into my normal silk PJ’s. There’s nothing sexy about them, but tonight isn’t about sex. It’s just about comfort and when we lay down in the bed, and Tristan spoons me until I fall asleep.

  The next ten weeks pass, and my father’s health deteriorates rapidly. He’s still trying to cover up how he’s feeling, but every single person around him knows that he’s in a lot more pain than he is letting on. We all know that his cancer is spreading. Every morning when I walk into his room to check on him, my first thought is, fuck you. I always give a huge fuck you to the universe. It makes me feel a little better inside.

  Tristan and I haven’t spent a night apart since I had dinner with his parents. He’s basically living with me at Carol and George’s at night and spends his days at University trying to finish his business degree. I do keep suggesting to him that when he is tired, he should spend the night at his own house, but he has been so sweet and so supportive of my situation. How many guys would hang around and deal with the amount of baggage I have pulling me down?

  On Friday afternoon, I decided to go for a walk because I needed some fresh air. I’ve spent the last couple of weeks being by my father’s side, and I am utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally.

  While I am out for my walk, Tristan calls to see what I'm up to. “Nothing, babe. Why what’s up?” I ask, smiling to myself. The sound of Tristan’s voice always melts my insides.