by M Johnson
I snuggle closer to him and listen to the thump of his heart. He’s right; he is here. He has been here the whole time. Even when I tried everything to push him away, after I told him I hated him, he refused to give up on me. Just like Dad never gave up on him.
“Thank you,” I whisper, kissing him on the lips.
“You’re welcome.” He smiles at me. “I have something for you,” he adds.
He sits up, then takes a flat box out of his pocket. He waits until I’m sitting up before he opens it. Inside is a tiny silver locket.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper as he slips it into my hand. I gently pry it open and look inside.
“It’s empty,” he admits with a sheepish grin. “I didn’t have a photo small enough of your mum or dad that wasn’t twenty years old. I just thought it was a way you could always have them with you. Here.” He takes the locket from me, and I pull my hair to the side so he can fasten it around my neck.
I roll the locket back and forth between my fingers and gaze up at Zave.
“I wish I could’ve told him about us. I know, he would’ve killed you.” I roll my eyes before he can say it. “But I wish I could’ve let him know I’d found someone I love as much as he loved Mum.”
Zave drops his gaze, a sheepish smile on his face.
“He knew.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What? How?”
“I told him.”
“You told him?” I repeat. “What happened?”
“You remember that rowdy customer who punched me?”
“It was Dad?” I gasp, not sure whether to be horrified or impressed he had the strength.
“Not exactly.” He makes a face. “He didn’t have the strength, so I did it for him.”
I blink. “You hit yourself?”
He chuckles. “I felt sorry for him. If you were my daughter… let’s just say I doubt I would’ve been okay with this, even if I was dying. Your dad is… was a better man than I am.”
“He was. I was lucky to have him in my life for as long as I did,” I whisper.
Zave kisses my forehead and wraps his arm around me, pulling me close. Cuddling up against him, I smile, because it’s a comforting thought, knowing Dad knew about us and that he was okay with it. At least he died knowing I had someone like Zave in my corner.
I guess I’m lucky to have had two amazing men in my life.
After a while, I feel brave enough to face the crowd again, so we go back inside. The first person I run into is Quinn. She throws her arms around me, hugging me close.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” she admits, smiling at me through tears. “But you looked like you had enough on your mind, and I could see you were being well taken care of.” She glances at Zave and smiles. “Look after her or I’ll kick your ass.”
“I will,” he promises. “I’ll be right back,” he adds as someone calls his name.
“How are you really?” Quinn asks as Zave walks off.
“I’m okay,” I say, even though I’m not.
“If you need anything, call me. Okay?”
She squeezes my hand and I nod, hating how awkward this conversation feels. It’s like she doesn’t know what to say to me. I get it, though. If the roles were reversed, I wouldn’t know what to say either. It sounds horrible, but I don’t have the energy for small talk at the moment. Not even with my best friend.
I’m just about to excuse myself and go hide in the bathroom when the lights dim. A mic squeals from the direction of the stage. My eyes widen when I turn to look. Zave is front and centre behind the mic, his guitar hanging around his neck. I gasp. I had no idea he was playing again.
“Hi, everyone,” he says, nervously waving at the small crowd. “Thanks for coming. I know Aaron would’ve loved to have been here, too. One of the things I loved most about him was that he didn’t quit, especially when it came to friendship. If he were here right now, he’d tell every person in this room to suck it up and move on. Well, that’s what he kept telling me, anyway.” He takes a deep breath and repositions the mic, his eyes meeting mine. I smile at him, offering silent encouragement. “Because he was constantly on my back about playing music again, this one is for you, Aaron.”
Zave’s eyes don’t leave mine through the entire performance. He chose the perfect song, too—Wish You Were Here by Oasis—one of Dad’s favourites. A lump forms in my throat as I listen to him sing. The lyrics reflect every single thing I’m feeling right now. By the end, I’m crying so hard it hurts to breathe. I watch him jump down from the stage and walk over to me.
“Sofe,” he says, taking my hand.
“Thanks for the warning,” I manage to force out.
He grimaces. “I wanted it to be a surprise, then halfway through it occurred to me that it might be the wrong kind of surprise—”
“No, it was perfect.”
Smiling through my tears, I tilt my head up and kiss him, melting into his arms. I don’t care who sees us or what they think. All I know is that Zave understands me in a way no one else will.
When I’m with him, I don’t feel alone.
Chapter 23
Xavier
The next few weeks fly past in a blur. Time moves both fast and slow, and I never know one day from the next how Sofie’s going to be. Some days, she can face the world and do anything. Other days, she stays in bed with the curtains drawn, hiding away in the darkness, so she can pretend the world hasn’t moved on and that nothing has changed.
Today is a good day.
She’s off taking her final exam. She was granted an extension because of her dad’s death. While I wait for her to return, I sit in the living room, playing my guitar. I’ve been playing a lot since my little performance at the wake. I figured if I was going to give Sofie advice about moving on, I should take some of it myself.
God, I’ve missed the feel of the strings against my fingers. Nothing quite compares to making music—that feeling you get when you create something out of nothing using a few simple notes. The first live show was a major win for me, too. So much so that I’ve made it a regular Thursday night thing. I’ve also hired a manager for the bar, so I can spend as much time helping Sofe through this as she needs.
Someone knocks on the door, so I put my guitar down and stand up. I assume Sofie must’ve forgotten her key, but when I open the door, I come face-to-face with Maria instead. As of a few days ago, she’s now my ex-wife, so I’m sure that’s what this is about.
“Xavier.”
She gives me a sheepish smile and I tighten my hold on the open door, not sure that I want to let her in. Aside from the funeral, the last time I saw her was the night she tried to kiss me. The last thing I need is a repeat of that.
“Did I just hear you playing?”
“You heard me play at the wake,” I remind her.
“I know, but I didn’t realise…” She gives me a forced smile. “Wow, she really does bring out the best in you.”
“Maria, maybe you should leave.” Things have been hard enough without the added drama of her.
“Wait.” Maria puts her hand out to stop me when I start to close the door. “Hear me out.” She takes a deep breath, as though it’s hard for her to be here. “I’m actually here to apologise to you… for what happened.”
I’m surprised. An apology is the last thing I expected. In fact, I prepare myself for something akin to war every time I lay eyes on Maria, since we don’t have the best history of making peace.
“Thanks,” I say. “I appreciate that.”
“I want you to be happy, Zave.” She says it like she means it. “And if you’re happy with her, even though it hurts that you can’t be happy with me, I still want that for you.”
I nod. “Thank you,” I say, and I mean it, too. “I know not everyone is going to understand or accept our relationship. A lot of people are waiting for us to fail, but I’m serious about her. She makes me feel alive, more than I have in years.”
Maria smiles, sadness in her e
yes. “I can see that. How is she?”
“She’s okay. She’s taking an exam right now. Her last one.”
Maria opens her mouth to reply, but she pauses when Quinn’s car pulls into the driveway. Sofie gets out, her eyes full of caution as she slowly stalks over. I smile when she reaches us, and she sweeps past Maria and into my waiting arms.
“Sofie. How was your exam?” Maria asks.
“I’m pretty sure I aced it,” she says casually.
I smirk, loving her confidence. I can tell she’s tense with Maria here, and Maria seems to notice it, too, because she clears her throat.
“Well, I better get going,” she chirps. “I just came to check that you two were still okay.”
“Why don’t you stay for coffee?” Sofie asks. Maria and I both turn to her, shocked. Sofie pulls up a shoulder. “I was about to put a pot on, anyway.”
Maria looks at me, a little unsure. I shrug, letting her make the choice. Sofie invited her, not me. It’s up to Maria to decide what she wants.
“Okay,” Maria says, nodding.
She steps into the house and we all settle in the living room. Sofie makes the coffee, then sits on the couch next to me, while Maria is on the other couch. For the next little while, the three of us make awkward small talk. Out of nowhere, it hits me what a strange situation this is, and I burst out laughing. I’m sitting with my ex-wife, and my girlfriend, who happens to be my late best friend’s daughter and less than half my age. It all seems so surreal. Sofie and Maria both look at me like I’ve lost my mind, and who knows? Maybe I have.
“Sorry,” I mutter, rubbing my chin.
Sofie glances at Maria. “I never thanked you for being there for Dad,” she says softly.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you—” Maria starts, but Sofie shakes her head.
“No, I get it. It still hurts, a lot, but I get why you didn’t. Both of you.” She glances at me, too. I reach for her hand and give it a squeeze. I’ve already promised her no more secrets, ever.
Maria leaves the moment her cup is empty. I’m not sure whether she has somewhere to be or if just seeing the two of us together is too hard for her. Whatever the reason, I close the door, relieved she didn’t hang around. Sofie in a happy mood is something I don’t get too much of and I plan to make the most of it. I turn around and watch her as she prowls towards me, a playful look in her eyes. When she reaches me, she wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me. Fuck, I’m a lucky man.
“That was weird,” she says.
I chuckle. “You mean having coffee with your boyfriend and his wife?” I tease.
“Ex-wife,” she corrects. “And boyfriend?” Her smile widens.
“Well, yeah.” I lean down and kiss her tenderly. “I mean, I’d be a fool to pass up the chance of having a hot eighteen-year-old girlfriend. If people are going to think I’m having a mid-life crisis, I might as well do it right, huh?”
“I don’t know.” She wrinkles her nose. “If I’m going to be your sugar baby, maybe I should forget about the psych degree and use my savings to get some breast implants instead.”
“Fucking bullshit you will,” I growl. She laughs as I lift up her shirt and push down her bra, taking her nipple in my mouth. “These tits are perfect,” I mumble.
She giggles, letting me suck on her nipples, my hands spanning her ribs.
“Let’s go the bedroom,” she suggests.
“Tired, baby?” I tease.
“Oh, Zave,” she sighs, lifting her top over her head. “If you think I plan on sleeping, you’re in for a very rude surprise.”
My lust for her flares up and I lift her into my arms. Her hands link around my neck, and she wraps her legs around my waist. I carry her up to the bedroom, my tongue never leaving her mouth. When we collapse on the mattress, my fingers already in the waistband of her pants, she looks at me with a serious expression.
“You and me?” she asks.
I nod and bite her lip. “Always.”
“Perfect,” she says, and kisses me again.
Epilogue
Four years later
Xavier
We're standing on the balcony of our hotel room in Sydney, overlooking the bay, filling in time before the tour's last show. Six months ago, Darren approached me after one of my rare performances at Traction and talked me into letting him manage me.
Just see how things go, were his exact words.
I said yes just to shut him up, mainly because I didn’t think anything would come of it; because, let’s face it, I’m way past my prime in music years. Turns out, some people like that. After a few local performances, I began to gather a real following, which Sofe loves to remind me is mostly young and female. But my real break came when I was asked to be the support act for Detrimental, a high-profile Aussie rock band, for their nation-wide tour. It’s been a lot of fun, but I don’t plan on making a habit out of touring. I’d much rather be at home, playing my music at Traction, where I can be closer to my girl.
Sofie continues to amaze me every day. She’s just finished up her psychology degree and begins work next month in a psychiatric program at a children’s hospital. I love her so fucking much that marriage feels like the next logical step in our life, which is why I’m going to ask her to marry me.
“Are you nervous?” Sofie teases. “Your last show.”
“You have no idea.”
I am nervous, but it has nothing to do with performing; it’s the stadium full of people present to witness my embarrassment if my proposal goes all wrong that is really making my stomach churn. We haven't discussed marriage; unless you count the random comment she made while watching The Bachelor finale—that if I ever propose and want her to say yes, I’d better go all out.
I figure I can’t go much bigger than this.
Everything is set. I’ve worked out what I want to say, I’ve cleared it with the band, but the only thing I can’t work out is how to get her mum’s engagement ring off her finger. In the four years we’ve been together, she’s never taken the damn thing off. I thought about buying a ring, but let’s face it, nothing else is ever going to compare to the sentimental value that ring has. Instead of trying to compete with it, why not add to its worth? I also thought it was a nice way to include the memory of her parents.
“I’m so glad you’re here with me,” I murmur, pulling her in for a kiss.
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be." She gazes up at me, her blue eyes sparkling, her long, dark hair swept up into a ponytail. "Besides, I've seen your groupies; most of them are younger than me. As if I’d let you come here alone.” She laughs as I cup her chin and lead her mouth to mine, soaking up her beauty.
“Trust me," I murmur, grazing her lip with my teeth. “You’re more than enough for me.”
“Right answer.” She smirks, then she glances at her watch as she sighs. “I better get showered. Quinn will be here any minute.”
We walk back inside the room. Just as Sofie disappears into the bathroom, a knock sounds on the door.
“That’s probably her. Can you let her in?” Sofie’s voice floats out of the bathroom.
Perfect. Maybe Quinn can help me out with my dilemma.
“So, big night, huh?” Quinn says when I open the door.
“Bigger than you think.” I drop my voice low. “I’m going to ask Sofe to marry me during the show.”
“Oh. My. God.” Quinn’s eyes widen as her mouth drops open, and then she squeals. “Zave, that’s the best surprise ever!”
“It won’t be a surprise if you don’t shut up,” I hiss, throwing a glance towards the bathroom to make sure Sofie didn’t overhear. I turn back to Quinn. “I need your help.”
Quinn nods. “Anything.”
“I need you to help me get Sofie’s mum’s engagement ring.”
Quinn blinks. “You mean the one she wears all the freaking time and never takes off?”
“That’s the one.” I nod. “I want to propose to her with that.”
“Does she take it off for a shower?” she asks. “Or when washing up?”
“Never.”
"Well, shit.” Quinn shakes her head, thinking. “Wait!” Then she shakes her head. “No, that’s too obvious. She’ll be onto you.”
“It’s impossible, isn’t it?” I sigh.
“Not necessarily. I have an idea.” Quinn’s eyes glow as her lips twist into a satisfied smirk. “It might not work, but be outside my room in an hour.”
“What are you guys talking about?”
I whirl around and smile at Sofie as she walks over and into my arms.
“Hanging backstage with the band,” Quinn is quick to respond. “And all the other privileges I’ll be getting since my best friend is dating the support act.”
Sofie laughs. “Good thing you’re not using me or anything.”
“I’ll more than make it up to you right now,” Quinn promises. “I’ve organised massages for us both so we can unwind before the show.”
Sofie glances at me, and I shrug. "Go for it. I have to go down to the stadium, anyway, for a soundcheck.” I wrap my arm around her waist and kiss her. “Have fun, okay?”
“I plan to.” She grins as she leaves the room with Quinn.
I have no idea what Quinn’s plan is, or if it will even work, but I make sure that I'm outside her room exactly one hour later. My phone beeps with a message from Quinn.
Quinn: Now. Be quiet.
I guess that means go in?
Twisting the doorknob, I crack open the door, just enough for me to sneak inside. Both girls are lying face down on tables, the masseuse conveniently blocking Sofie’s line of sight to the door, should she happen to look up. As I tiptoe across the room, I've never been so grateful for Quinn's loud voice—I could fire a gun in here, and nobody would notice.
I scan the room, spotting Sofie’s watch on the small coffee table in front of the TV. Carefully threaded onto the band is the ring. Wow. I’m impressed. I have no idea how Quinn managed it, but I owe her one. Pocketing both the ring and the watch, I creep back over to the door to make my escape.