by T L Swan
“Yes,” I sobbed. He made a guttural noise and the phone went dead. He had hung up. I collapsed into the foetal position on the floor, knowing he was probably on the floor like me. I was a cold heartless bitch, how could I say that? My heart was broken, my chest hurt. I was crying so loudly I was sure the neighbours could hear me.
I stayed in bed for a week, unable to eat and hardly able to keep anything down, while my mother doted on me, thinking I had a stomach bug. I lay motionless, staring at the ceiling. I had no tears left.
Even to this day, seven years later, that memory brings nausea to my stomach every time I think of it. It is as if it happened yesterday. I am brought back to a young seventeen–year–old girl lying alone on the lounge room floor clutching the phone. The pain is so vivid it’s unbearable. I do what I always do when this memory haunts me. I get straight up, put the television on and get into the shower. Sometimes I stay in the shower for over an hour—it is as if I am trying to wash the lies away. Although it’s not possible, if only I could. I’ve never forgiven myself., I should have told him the truth. He deserved the truth. Something’s got to give as this is unbearable. Why do the memories of this man haunt me—how do I escape him?
“You know what shits me?” I moan as I look into my compact mirror at my face, turning my head. “When I pay good money and say I have a wedding and I want to look hot, that does not mean code for I want to look like the tooth fairy on crack.”
“I know, right,” Bridget tuts. We are in the back of a cab surveying the damage from our hair and makeup appointment. “At least your hair looks good. The silly bitch put so much lacquer in my hair I’m like a Venus Fly Trap. I hope there are no flies at the reception as they will all get stuck in my hair.” I giggle as I pull a disgusted face. At least the makeup disaster has taken the edge off my nerves—only three hours until I see him. I smile out the window as I hunch my shoulders. I feel like a little kid at Christmas.
“Do you think I should have spray tanned?” I ask.
“No, too much skin. You would have looked like a Penthouse Pet.”
“Maybe that’s the look I’m going for,” I smirk.
Bridget narrows her eyes and laughs, “Well you do have the makeup for it.”
“Very funny ha, ha.”
I look into the mirror at the young woman staring back at me, my long dark brown hair is set very Raquel Welch. I’ve successfully removed my Steve Tyler makeup and reapplied. My bronze sky–high strappy shoes are on, and I am waxed to within an inch of my life. I stare at my reflection. My charcoal Grecian–style dress is fitted but drapes in all the right places. It is backless with a thigh–high split down one leg. The dress is understated elegance I think, a little sexy without trying too hard. I look good, if I do say so myself. I like this dress better than the other option. Josh has never seen me like this. I was a girl when he left. I’m now a clinical psychologist, fit and in every part of my life confident and assured. Too bad I’m being eaten alive by guilt, suffocated by a love I don’t even have. I pull my shoulders back and take a deep breath. Perk up, old girl, I say out loud to myself, today you start to heal. Time to rip off the bandaid.
We arrive at the church which has a lovely olde–worlde feel, sandstone with a large circular driveway, sweeping oak trees and lots of leadlight windows. There are roses everywhere and the crowd is congregated out the front. Eventually we are led in and my grandmother catches my hand as we walk into the church.
“It’ll be your wedding next,” she winks. I smile and roll my eyes. We are ushered to our place in the second row. Gran looks down and exclaims, “My god darling, how on earth do you walk in those shoes?” I smile and lift my hem a little to give her a full view of my beautiful expensive shoes that I may marry because I love them so much. I step aside to let Gran into the row of seats before me and glance up straight into the ice–cold stare of Joshua Stanton. The sight hits me like a physical blow and I involuntarily step back and grab the church pew for support…Dear Mother of God…he is breathtaking…so different yet so familiar. He is glaring at me… Holy shit, is he angry? Surely not. I swallow and shuffle up the church pew. He follows me with his eyes and I can’t look away. My heart has stopped beating. He is mad, or maybe he’s just shocked to see me. My mouth is so dry I can hardly swallow. I look down, suddenly super self–conscious. I think I’m having a hot flush. Oh shit, did I bring deodorant? I’m going to need it. I pat my forehead.
Bridget frowns at me, “Are you ok?” I nod, unable to speak. I look to the floor to try to calm myself and my heart that is having an epileptic fit. I can’t help it, I look back up. He is still glaring at me. Holy fuck, is anyone else seeing this? I pat my forehead again and down–cast my eyes. Crap, crap, crap, crap. What did you expect, you idiot? Of course he hates you. I’m getting seriously claustrophobic. I need fresh air. I want to run from this church and do some serious binge drinking. I blow out a large breath.
“What’s up?” Bridget whispers.
“Hot flush,” I murmur.
She screws her face up in question. “What?” she mouths as she frowns at me. I shake my head to try and signal for her to shut the fuck up, he’s watching. I look up again and see a trace of a smile on his face. Bastard, he’s doing this on purpose. He knows he’s affecting me. Christ, why am I such a loser? Gran distracts me and takes my hand, thank heavens for Gran. I give her a weak smile as she pats the back of my hand. The service begins and I am of course totally distracted. I am not even looking at the bride and groom. My eyes are fixed on one person only. Every now and then he looks at me and our eyes meet, but he pulls away every time. He’s absolutely beautiful—it hurts just to look at him. The priest signals it’s time for me to do a reading. Shit, what if I can’t talk? I shimmy out and head towards the steps when Joshua comes over and offers me his hand, and as I grab it he squeezes it hard. Once again I am reminded by a strong jolt of sexual energy that he zaps me with. I gasp and look up to see him smile a small satisfied smile. Shit ok, he’s affecting me. Its official, I don’t have one cool bone in my body. I may as well be an open book. Please ground, swallow me up now. Why in the hell am I so physically affected by this man? It’s abnormal. I blow out a breath and start my psalm reading with goose bumps scattering all over my body.
I hope my nipples aren’t on high beam in the house of god. I am achingly aware of his carnal searing gaze fixed upon me. As I read I see through my peripheral vision that he looks me up and down three times that I count. He clenches his jaw and moves his head to the left side as if trying to crack his neck whilst not taking his eyes off me. I can’t help but let a small smile slip. I know this move, he’s always done it, and it appears he hasn’t broken the habit. He does this when he is aroused. When we were together he would do this when he saw me naked or in a swimming costume. My insides do a little jump for joy as it becomes clear to me I still do it for him. Thank god, operation slim down has paid off, and all those gym visits are having the desired effect. I feel a little of my confidence return. I finish my reading and go to return to my seat and he holds out his hand to help me down the stairs, he squeezes it again and I feel the heat emanate from his body. I smile at him but he doesn’t smile back. What in the world is going on here?
As I make it back to my seat the bride and groom and party move over to the side to sign the marriage certificate, Bridget frowns at me.
“What?” I whisper.
She leans in and looks around to make sure no one else is listening. “Why was he looking at you like that?”
“Like what?” I whisper.
“Like he was going to bend you over the church pew.” I open my eyes wide at her to signify shut the hell up.
“Well?” she asks again.
“Don’t be stupid,” I snap as I rearrange my dress.
“I mean it,” she says. “And you, you were all flustered.”
“I was nervous, that’s all.”
“Bullshit,” she whispers. “I can smell his pheromones from here.”
I can’t help it—I smile.
“What’s funny?” she whispers. For some strange reason I want to laugh. It feels good talking about this to Bridge, even though I have to deny it.
“So how did they smell?” I whisper.
She frowns at me and I raise my eyebrows. “The pheromones, how did they smell?”
“Fucking awesome.” We both giggle and then she winks. “Too bad he’s off limits.”
Oh yes, I forgot to mention a small detail, a detail I try and not give too much thought to because it does my head in every time. Joshua and I share more than a history, we share blood. We are first cousins. His father and my mother are brother and sister, so when I tell you I can’t have this man,
I truly mean it.
Chapter 3
The family photos outside the church are a painful reminder of just how closely Joshua and I are related. His younger brother Cameron comes up behind me and grabs me in an embrace and spins me around.
“Tassshhh,” he laughs as he pulls me under his arm and kisses my hair. I smile and put my arm around his waist. This is a normal cousin relationship. A distasteful thought flashes through my mind as the word incest rolls my stomach. My God, how can I be so physically attracted to a relative, and I’m not imagining it. It’s overbearing. I have never experienced it before. It’s as if my body has a spiritual connection with his and my mind is being totally left out of the equation, making no sense or reason. I frown as I sum up the events so far and I’m shocked to my core. I knew I found him attractive before. But now, now the attraction is unbearable.
Josh comes over and kisses Bridget. “Didge,” he smiles. This is the pet name the Stanton boys call her.
She grabs him in an embrace. “Josh,” she laughs. “I’ve missed you.”
He smiles, “Of course, who wouldn’t,” he winks.
She rolls her eyes. “You still have tickets on yourself.” They both laugh as she slaps him. My mother comes over and grabs him in an embrace. I can’t hear what they are saying but she has her hands on his cheeks as she speaks. My eyes are transfixed as I watch the comfortable interaction. This is the first time as an adult it is actually sinking in, fuck we are related. My family love him too. I’m such an idiot. After a minute of speaking to my mum he turns to me and dips his head.
“Natasha,” he smiles and gives me a kiss on the cheek. He rests his hands on my waist as he pulls me into him. I lean into him and put my hands around his neck. His lips linger a little too long on my cheek and my heart stops. I close my eyes as I try to control my breathing before I gather my senses and pull away. We have a familiarity with each other that is still present. I know he feels it too, as he rubs his forehead with obvious discomfort. Discomfort at what our body language has just revealed to each other without a word spoken.
Two men are with Joshua who I’ve not met before. He introduces them to Bridget and my mum and dad and then heads over to me.
“This is Ben and Adrian,” he smiles to me, “they are friends of mine who work with me in America.” I smile and shake their hands. “And this is Natasha,” he smiles. He seems nervous and I see them glance at each other. Adrian comes forward. He’s athletic, tall and blond, immaculately groomed and dressed.
He holds his hand out. “Hello,” he smiles. I smile back as we shake hands. I feel comfortable instantly—he’s got a sort of honest quality about him. He looks at the other guy Ben as if to prompt him to shake my hand, but Ben is just staring at me. My eyes flick back to Adrian. Josh has turned around to talk to his brother. Adrian smiles and shakes his head, “He’s not used to seeing such a gorgeous woman.”
Ben snaps out of it, “Oh sorry, I was miles away.” He shakes my hand. “Nice to meet you” he says in a heavy accent.
I raise my eyebrows. “English?” I ask.
“No, South African.”
“Ahh,” I smile. “So you guys work with Josh?” I ask.
“Um,” Adrian laughs. “Ben is his bodyguard and I am his PA.”
“Ohh,” I smile. Slightly shocked. “Why does Josh need a bodyguard?” I ask.
They shoot each other a look. “Oh you know,” Adrian smiles. “Paparazzi and whatnot.”
“Ohh,” I answer as I nod, feeling stupid.
“So, Natasha,” Adrian asks, “what do you do?”
“I’m a clinical psychologist.”
They both look at each other again. “Oh god,” Adrian laughs. “Don’t psychoanalyse me, you’ll find out I’m crazy.”
I clink my glass to his. “You and me both. Don’t worry, I won’t tell if you don’t.” He giggles and hunches up his shoulders. I do like him. Joshua rejoins us. He has both hands in his suit pants and he still looks nervous. I can’t help it, I’m watching Ben and Adrian who are trying to communicate something to each other without speaking, something about Josh. My eyes turn back to Josh who’s watching me silently. Adrian smiles again and hunches his shoulders as if he’s excited about something. What’s going on here?
“Can I get you a drink?” Ben asks Josh.
“No thanks, I will wait till after the speeches.”
“Yeah right, good idea,” he smiles. Cameron, Josh’s little brother, comes over and grabs me from behind and kisses the back of my head. He’s over six foot so he’s not really so little. He has his hand around my waist as he addresses the boys. I see Josh’s gaze drop to where his hand is on my waist. He raises his eyebrows at Cameron who instantly removes his hand… what.
“So you boys have both met our beautiful cousin Natasha?” he smiles at Josh and winks. Josh narrows his eyes at him, huh, does he know? Holy crap, what the hell is going on? The look of total shock on Adrian’s and Ben’s faces is evident. They look at each other and then at Josh who bites his bottom lip and looks at me. Ok, now it’s obvious, Ben and Adrian know. Holy shit. What the hell has he said?
Cameron smiles and winks. “Just keeping it real, boys,” and he walks off. I want the ground to swallow me up. I am a total disaster. Josh has told his friends. I must look like a total slut. Holy fuck. I need a drink. Adrian and Ben stay silent, still wide–eyed. I go to walk off.
“Natasha,” Josh goes to grab my arm but Adrian stops him.
“Just leave it,” he whispers.
“Can I talk to you Tash?” Joshua asks me. Embarrassment hits, oh fuck. I scurry to the bar to find a drink. I scull my first glass of champers without even tasting it.
Bridget comes over and does a low whistle. “There is some talent in the house toniiiiight. The Stanton boys do associate with good–looking men.”
“Hmm, do they? I haven’t noticed.” This night could be the very death of me.
Dinner is finished and out of the way, a beautiful five–course banquet with no expense spared. Fairy lights are strewn all through the ceiling and the trees outside in the garden. Large candelabras with twelve candles adorn every table. The venue looks like a romantic fairy tale. Bridge and I are giggling at each other at the table. The tinkling of a teaspoon on a champagne glass brings the attention of everyone in the room. Ahh, the speeches. I smile at Bridge and take a sip of my champagne. Joshua is standing next to his brother at the bridal table, champagne glass in hand. Scott is sitting back in his seat smiling, maybe a little unsure of what his brother is going to reveal. Josh dips his head, as the crowd grows silent. He smiles a breathtaking smile. I’m weak from want of him.
“Hello everyone, on behalf of my family I would like to thank you all for coming to celebrate with us in the marriage of Scott and Alyssa.” He turns and holds his glass up to the two of them. “Firstly I would like to thank Scott for giving me the honour of standing up for him today. It means a lot to me Scott. Know that I love you.” The crowd gushes. Bridget looks at me with puppy dog eyes. I smile as I listen. His voice has changed. He sounds slightly different—he has an American accent. Not strong, but definitely there. My eyes are transfixed by the beautiful man standing up before us all. A man who is as dear to me as breath, a breath I hold as I listen
closely. “Alyssa firstly to you. You are an incredible person. One, for putting up with him.” He raises his glass at Scott who shakes his head and the crowd laughs. “When Scott told me he was going to ask you to marry him, I asked the obvious question. Why? What in the hell do you want to do that for?” The crowd laughs again and he raises his eyebrows. “The answer he gave me however silenced me, forever. He told me he had found someone who loved him for no reason, and that gave him a reason to want to love her back.” The crowd gushes again, and he smiles as he raises his glass to Alyssa. “So to Alyssa, thank you for loving my brother for no reason.” The crowd giggles. “I only hope that my other brothers find the happiness that you both have found today. I believe in a prophecy I heard a long time ago. Soul mates don’t finally meet somewhere at a certain place at a certain time, they’re in each other, all along.” I smile a sad smile. I know what he means. “So on that note,” he smiles. “Tonight I would like to make a toast to three people.” Everyone giggles. “To Alyssa and Scott.” Everyone repeats “To Alyssa and Scott.” “And to my soul mate,” he raises his glass, “who has been with me all along, but is absent from my side.” He raises his glass to the crowd, and everyone claps and cheers. I can’t help it, I try, I really do. But the hot tears are bursting the dam. I blink repeatedly to try and stop them while looking down at the table. I grab a napkin from the table and wipe my eyes quickly before anyone sees. On raising my head I look straight into the longing stare of Joshua who is now back sitting in his seat. We sit silently staring at each other as the party continues around us, both oblivious to the chatter. I give him a sad smile as I wipe my eyes again. That is exactly how I feel about him—he is my soul mate but he is absent from my side. I know it’s just a coincidence that he put that in his speech, but hearing it come from his lips has broken the dam. I stand and make my way to the bathroom.
“Are you ok?” I am stopped on the way by Adrian. I smile and nod, unable to speak past the tears in my throat. “I loved that speech too,” he smiles as he rubs my arm. I smile again and continue on my way. Embarrassment is heating my cheeks and I am still unable to articulate anything. Ten minutes later I stare at the reflection looking back at me in the mirror and the memory bank starts to replay. I can literally feel him, taste him, time has erased nothing. It was as if it happened yesterday.