“If you’d like me to.”
“Yes, please. Ella can’t reach the top to put up the angel and we won’t get our Christmas miracle if there isn’t an angel on top of the tree.”
With those words, his sister’s hand tightens around mine. The Christmas miracle this little man wants isn’t going to happen. The doctors have made it clear that his mummy isn’t going to wake up but like all five-year-olds, he still believes in Santa, angels, wishes and fairy tales and so he thinks that his mum might just wake up if he wishes hard enough.
“How about you sit on my shoulders and put the angel on the tree?” I offer.
I can see the thoughts darting across his face as he agrees.
We visit their mum at the hospital and Thomas asks me to take him to get a drink. I agree, especially because I think Ella could do with five minutes alone with her mum.
Every day she has to say goodbye. It can’t be easy for her.
Thomas takes my hand and leads me in the direction of the hospital shop.
“I know that my mum won’t wake up.”
Thomas takes me by surprise when he suddenly stops dead in the middle of the corridor.
“I know that it’s not going to happen. That’s not the Christmas miracle I need.”
“Then what is?” I ask, completely dumbfounded.
“I need my big sister to smile again, even when mummy is gone,” he smiles at me, “and you can help.”
Chapter Thirteen – Ella
A week later and my sister still hasn’t returned. Tristan has been incredible, barely ever leaving my side and when did, I still had a feeling he watching over me.
Whether it was the mugs of coffee that seemed to just appear on my desk or the fact that he’d barely spent a night away from my house, I have never felt more safe than I have in the last week.
Now sat at my desk with more work than should be legal in December, I’m smiling a real smile. I’m actually happy and I have Tristan Riggens to thank for it.
My phone beeps and I glance down.
There waiting for me is a text message from Tia. I’m not sure what I expect her to tell me, that she’ll be on the first plane home or that she’s at the airport and needs picking up?
Anything would be better than what she’s actually written.
Text me when you’ve arranged the funeral.
That’s it. Nothing else. No kiss. No ‘how is Thomas?’ Not offer to help.
The hand that is holding my phone begins to shake so violently that I drop it. I look up, worrying that someone might have noticed but the office is buzzing with festivity and no one is paying me even an ounce of attention.
Except Riggens.
His eyes are focused on me, concern clear beneath his indifferent expression.
The shaking in my hand has moved up my arm and my shoulders are now racked with the grief that is threatening to overwhelm me.
STOP! Calm the fuck down! I tell myself but nothing works.
I try to breathe but I seem to have forgotten how to.
He’s across the room in a matter of seconds and then he’s cradling me like a small child.
“What happened?” he asks but I can’t tell him.
I’m crying heavily now and showing no signs of stopping. The office that was ignoring me five minutes ago is now as silent as the grave and everyone’s eyes are on me.
His hand is rubbing my back and I’m assaulted by the smell of his neck. It calms me and centres me, but I still can’t stop crying.
I shrink into him, trying to hide from the eyes of my colleagues.
He seems to notice my hesitance and pulls me closer while looking behind himself. He calls someone, I don’t know who and demands that everyone take an early lunch and like that all those peering eyes are gone, and we are alone, and finally I can breathe.
“I-I-I’m sorry,” I sob out.
My tears have stained his shirt.
“Don’t apologise,” he tells me sharply. “Is your mum okay?”
“Yeah,” I reply as best I can through my tears. “My sister…” It’s all I can say.
I can’t explain to him that my sister might be the most selfish person I’ve ever met or that I’m furious. I can’t explain that my sister Tia’s purely selfish behaviour might just be the hair that broke this fucking camel’s back. I had been juggling so many different things and they all just dropped.
I pick up my phone, using my thumb print to unlock it before handing it to him so he can read her message. He glances at the screen before turning the phone off and putting it into his jacket pocket.
“Let’s go home,” is all he says.
“It’s far too early. It’s not even lunch time. We can’t.”
“We can and we are.”
He is adamant.
“I can go alone,” I offer. “You can stay.”
“Like fuck I’m leaving you alone.”
He’s angry that I’d even suggest it.
I hear the clicking of a pair of heels on the floor as Clara Delos approaches us. Tristan doesn’t give her a chance to say anything.
“I’m taking Ella home.”
Clara smiles sadly.
“Okay. Let me know if there is anything you need. I can pick Thomas up from his childminder if it helps.”
Her kindness causes a fresh wave of tears to cascade down my face.
“Thank you.” He nods. “That would be very good of you.”
I can’t help but wonder how much she knows. I told her about my mum myself, but I wonder if she knows that Tristan has been staying at my house.
The last thing I need is to be the cause of some workplace gossip, and although I know she’d never tell anyone, I worry that if she knows, chances are other people know too.
Perhaps other people who aren’t above gossiping.
We haven’t exactly hidden the fact that we’ve arrived and left together each day over the last week.
Tristan gathers my things together before getting to his feet and making a dart for his office to collect his own belongings. Clara is leaning against my desk, her arms crossed.
“Whatever you need, Ella, you just need to tell us. If you need to take some time off… I know Tristan is doing his best by you but if you need anything… please don’t go through this alone.”
I nod because my words are currently not working.
Before I know it, Tristan has returned and tucked me under his arm so he can guide me out of the company.
“Come on, Sweetpea.”
The sudden use of a pet name makes my heart stop, but I try not to reach. Instead, I let him guide me to the lift. Once inside, his strong, firm arms surround me yet again and I lose myself in the way he makes me feel.
It’s a conflicting set of emotions; safe yet shy, comfortable and at ease yet feeling as if everything is new and exciting. The touch of his arm around my shoulder as he walks me to his car is enough to awaken every cell in my body but it’s also enough to send me to sleep just like a little kitten who’s found a warm place to rest. The crook of his arm feels like home.
He opens the passenger door for me and helps me into the car. He fastens my seat belt for me, shooing my hand out of the way. Then he drops his lips to my nose and kisses it softly.
“Let’s go home, Sweetpea.”
I nod my head slowly.
“Okay.”
Giving me a final smile, he closes my door and makes his way around the car before climbing into the driver’s seat.
Chapter Fourteen – Tristan
“Sweetpea, wake up.”
She’s slept the whole way home. I’ve sat her for a full half hour, unwilling to wake her up. She looks so cute sleeping, like a tiny kitten lost in slumber. I almost expect her to purr.
It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen except we can’t sit here in the car all day. I want her to be comfortable.
She grumbles in her sleep and curls further into herself but doesn’t wake up.
I lean over and move the hair from her face.<
br />
“Ella, Sweetpea,” I try again.
Her eyes finally flicker open but not for more than a second or two. I try again, this time I drop a kiss to her cheek, before whispering against her ear.
“Sweetpea, time to wake up. We’re home”
We’re home, those words warm my heart. It’s cheesy and silly but I really do feel at home. It’s not the house behind us though that is making me feel this way. It’s the person asleep beside me.
She’s my home.
I give up when she still doesn’t wake up. I climb out of the car and walk around to her side, so I can pull her up and into my arms, where she belongs. I close the car door with my leg and approach the house that quickly becoming important to me.
“Shit,” I curse when I reach the door and remember that I can’t unlock it.
I look down at the sleeping girl in my arms and as loathed as I am to wake her up, I know I have no choice.
“Sweetpea…”
“Uh,” she grumbles quietly, burrowing her head further into the crook of my shoulder.
“Wake up, Ella.”
“Urgh… wha…”
Her eyes flutter slightly and she covers her face with her hand in an attempt to block out whatever light is coming fom the winter sun above us.
“Open your eyes, Sweetpea. You can go back to sleep when we’re warm and snug inside.”
She nods slightly before looking up at me with puffy eyes. Her make up completely gone, she still looks as beautiful as she did first thing this morning.
“Where are your keys?” I ask her gently.
“In my handbag,” she tells me. “You’ll have to put me down.”
I laugh at her. “As if.”
Instead, I shift her weight slightly so that I can offer her the bag that I have hanging over my shoulder. She grins up at me goofily before rummaging through her bag until she finds the house keys.
We spend the rest of the day curled up in bed. I refuse to give back her phone. Instead, I tell her that I will keep an eye on it in case the hospital calls. I leave it on the bedside table and pull her against my side and tell her to rest.
I try and do some work, but just the feel of her against my side is too distracting.
Her eyes are closed and her right leg is wrapped around mine. Her hand is resting on my waist, just in front of where my laptop sits.
I take her hand in mine and lift it to my mouth, kissing her palm. I close my laptop and lower it to the floor beside the bed before checking the time.
It’s half three. I have time, time to close my eyes for a little while.
I lie down on my side so I can watch Ella sleep. She pulls closer to me, until every inch of her seems to be attached to me. Where in the past, with other girls, it might have bothered me being clung to like this, with her I don’t want her to ever let go.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” she responds, her eyes still closed.
“I thought you were sleeping,” I tell her, as I allow my fingers to play with her hair.
She snickers gently, opening one eye slightly.
“How could I sleep with you saying such nice things?”
“Nice?”
I tickle her under her arm, causing her to scream out in shock. I smirk at her reaction as I continue to tickle her. She’s a laughing mess, sprawled out beneath me as she squirms to avoid my tickling.
Then she’s trying to tickle me back but I grab her hands and pull them above her head.
“I’m not ticklish, Sweetpea, but you definitely are.”
I wink at her before grasping both her wrists in one hand so my other hand can continue tickling her.
It’s amazing to witness her face light up with a smile. It’s the best thing I’ve seen in months.
I only stop when she begs me to.
“Please… p-please… no more. I can’t-can’t breathe…”
We catch our breath together, my eyes glued to hers. It is as if I’m breathing in her soul and it is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. In this moment, I can’t resist the sight of her.
I lean down and kiss her passionately on the lips.
I know this isn’t the right moment. I know this is the worst time for her to start a relationship, considering everything that is going on with her mum and sister and poor little Thomas.
It doesn’t stop me though.
She responds immediately, deepening the kiss. My tongue explores the inside of her mouth, the taste of her sending fire straight through my veins.
I let her hands go so my own hands can explore. My hands roam across her skin as her hands grip my hair tightly. I pull on the hem of her shirt, exposing the skin beneath it.
Chapter Fifteen – Ella
He is all I can feel. All I can taste. All I can smell.
My senses are overwhelmed by him and it’s pure ecstasy. The whole world and all the worries it has caused me are completely forgotten. Nothing else matters in this moment.
It’s just him and me, in a little sweet bubble where the world doesn’t seem bleak but as bright and colourful as a rainbow.
For this small stretch of time, I can lose myself in him and find a happiness that has eluded me for longer than I can recall.
His kisses burn me from the inside out.
I pour all the pain and emotion that I’ve been holding so tightly to into the kiss we share. The feel of him pushing into me is better than anything I’ve ever felt before.
My hands grasp the bed sheets beneath me as we move in tandem. My legs curl around him, pulling him closer, forcing him deeper.
I feel my walls constrict around him and I’m in heaven.
My nails dig into his back but he’s still wearing his shirt so I pull my hands between us and make quick work of the buttons so I can rip it from his body.
I need to feel more of his skin against mine.
I’ve never wanted to be as close to someone as I do in this moment. I’ve never wanted to cling to someone the way I’m clinging to him.
He is pounding into me, hitting a spot no man has ever hit before and I’m meeting him thrust for thrust.
I’m so lost in the moment that I don’t hear my phone right straight away.
“I’m going to come,” he tells me before his thrusts become more violent and he seems to lose all control.
Together we drop from the cloud we seem to have found in the sky. It’s only when we come back down, breathing heavily into each other’s shoulder that we finally hear the screeching of my mobile.
I panic.
Pure fear runs through me.
What if something has happened?
He grabs for the phone and answers it abruptly, his cock still nesting between my thighs.
“Yes?”
His eyes are focused on me in a way that is both highly intimidating and incredibly intimate.
I can’t hear what the person on the call is saying but I can tell from the tightness of his expression that it isn’t good. Thoughts run through my mind, every possible scenario, as I fear that it will be the worst news of my life.
“Right. We’ll be right there.”
He hangs up and drops the phone on the bed next to us. He doesn’t take a second to pause. He’s stood up and pulling his trousers on as quick as lightning, and I’m lying on top of my bed, completely exposed and possibly in shock.
“Get up, Sweetpea. We need to go to the hospital.”
With those words the fear that is coursing through me turns to ice.
“Is she okay?” I ask, as I scramble to collect my scattered clothes.
“I’m not sure. They wouldn’t say.”
His eyes tell me that although he might not know, he can guess and his guess is as bad as mine.
It’s time.
The thing I’ve feared most in the last few months has finally happened and I’m still not ready.
Not even close.
We’re silent on the journey to the hospital. Ther
e’s nothing to say. No words could comfort me right now.
Nothing can make this better.
All the bliss the last hour had evoked inside me is long gone and all I have left is a bleak certainty that I’ve just lost someone I love.
I’m writing a mental list of things I need to do, things I’ve got to remember, things I can’t let fall.
The doctor is waiting for us outside my mother’s hospital room door. He’s not smiling. His face almost seems expressionless as if he’s put a mask on.
He’s done this before.
He’s prepared.
He knows what to say and how to say it.
He knows it will hurt but he knows that if he’s clear and precise it won’t hurt less but at least I stand a chance of taking in his words.
“Ella.” He nods his head once in greeting. “No Thomas?”
“He’s at his childminders,” I say through the haze of grief that is already surrounding me.
“That’s probably a good thing.”
I nod once, it’s an automatic response, not a choice.
“I’m sorry to say that your mother died at quarter past four this afternoon.”
I nod again.
I’m stuck. I can’t speak. I can’t move.
My feet are glued to the floor and my eyes are glued to the doctor’s face. I nod once more. Apparently, it’s all I can do.
“We’ve removed all the machines so you can say your goodbyes.”
Again, I nod.
He turns on his heels and opens the door behind him. I should be following him but I still can’t move.
I’m stuck, rooted to the ground, lost.
“You can do this, Ella,” Tristan tells me quietly. “Whenever you are ready. I promise you are not alone.”
His words are all I need to lift one foot and then the other. My shaking hand in his strong, firm embrace, we walk into the small room that contains what remains of the woman who loved me most.
Chapter Sixteen – Tristan
I have never felt more useless. I’m a pro-active guy. I’m a fixer. I’m pragmatic. Right now though, not so much. No matter how I think it through, there is nothing I can do to make this right.
All I can do is sit by her side and make sure that all the little things are done. I can make sure that Clara and Andrew pick up Thomas and take him out for dinner, to give us time to deal with the hospital stuff.
A Bleak December: Hanleigh's London (The Fate Series Book 4) Page 5