Love and Heartache (Love &... #2)

by A. J. Briar

  Prologue

  Nathan

  Two years earlier

  Tears fall from Isabella’s beautiful teal eyes, marring her perfect face. I’ve just professed my love for her, and she’s crying. I really fucking hope that they are good tears and not bad ones.

  “Please tell me these are happy tears.” I can’t help myself as I wipe a few of them away with my fingers. They still tumble silently, so I kiss them away instead. Her skin is soft and for the first time in my life, I feel utterly content. There is nowhere I’d rather be right now, even if she hasn’t responded to my declaration of love. Isabella catches her breath and whispers against my lips.

  “I love you too Nathan. Always have and always will.” As soon as I hear her say those words, my body reacts, fusing us together, in the best way possible. You’d think considering we slept together moments ago, before my little speech, I’d be sated. I’ve soon recognized though, that when it comes to Isabella, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of her. The crisp night air surrounds us and I realize that Isabella is in nothing more than a lace dress. She shivers in my arms, and I immediately regret not bring the blanket up here. Rather reluctantly, I let her go and fix my gaze upon hers.

  “Are you cold? I’ll go and grab the blanket, then we can sit out over the edge and watch the stars.” I flash her my dimple, knowing the desired effect it has on her before running back towards the car. My body halts, when I notice someone leaning against my car. My eyes try to figure out who it is, but as I get closer, they’re gone. I shake my head, knowing I’m probably just hallucinating from the high that Isabella puts me in.

  Grabbing the blanket, my phone rings, distracting me. Brooke’s name flashes on the screen, but I refuse to let that bitch ruin anymore of my life. Sending her straight to voicemail, I then thumb through my phone, blocking her number. Fuck knows why I didn’t do that a long time ago.

  I start heading back, when I hear a blood curdling scream that pierces me to my core. My body reacts, sprinting towards the end of the pier, searching for Isabella. The splintered wooden railing is broken, and my world plummets into nothing, when I comprehend what’s just happened. The waves violently crash against the rocks below and my heart cracks in two, when I struggle to see Isabella through the darkness. My brain tells me to do something, forcing my limbs into action. Reaching for my phone, I dial 911 and hysterically explain the situation. Before I’ve even put the phone down, I hear sirens in the distance.

  I don’t want to live in a world, where Isabella isn’t a part of it. Chaotic thoughts take over, and I once again peer over the edge, when a flash of burgundy captures my gaze. Instincts take over and adrenaline fills my veins. I don’t think twice about jumping off, into the deep oblivion below, swimming to save Isabella’s life. The current is strong, but I let every emotion I feel, fuel my movements. The closer I get, the more frantic I swim, knowing that every second that passes, is another second she loses. The cold infiltrates my bones, making it hard to breathe, but I don’t give up. I can’t give up. Not until she’s safe in my arms.

  When I reach touching distance, I stretch out, pulling her towards me while dragging her out, from the depths of the sea. Her lifeless body lays flat on the sand, while I prop up head up in my lap. It’s only then that I notice blood seeping from her head onto my hands. Fuck. She’s hit her head, no doubt on the rocks that jut out along the shoreline.

  Off in the distance, I hear my name being called, and I glance around to see two paramedics run towards us. They start asking me questions, but I’m unable to speak. The words want to come out but are lodged in my throat. My eyes fixate on Isabella, who is unconscious to the disarray around her. One of them tries to move me but I refuse to budge. Even though, in the deep recesses of my mind, I know I really should. I’m about to, when Isabella’s eyelashes flutter. Hope blooms in my chest and I subconsciously draw myself closer to her, leaning over her face.

  “Isabella…” I whisper her name and pray she can hear me. In response, her eyes open slightly, and I’m rewarded when her beautiful eyes gaze upon mine. I let my expression fill with everything I feel for her at that moment. She looks up at me, but her face is a blank canvas. The love and adoration that I saw in her eyes earlier, is no longer there. An indifferent expression fills her features, which causes dread to fill my veins. When she opens her mouth to speak, water spews from her lips and I lurch forward to try and stop her from choking. Her eyes flutter closed once again and the terror I feel is too much. I shout her name, on the verge of losing myself when the paramedics pull me away. One of them starts to assess me, but I push her away.

  “Forget about me, I’m fine. Just save her. Please.” I’m in hysterics, and I can’t stop the fear from crawling around my body. In the pit of my gut, I know that something is seriously wrong. I just don’t know what. And the thought of losing Isabella, absolutely terrifies me to the point of no return.

  1

  Isabella

  Present day

  Water fills my lungs as darkness surrounds me. I open my mouth to scream, stupidly letting in a rush of sea water that clogs my throat.

  This is it.

  My life is going to be over before it’s even begun. I surrender to the agony and let myself fall deeper into the depths of the ocean; not even fighting the waves that crash around me, causing excruciating pain.

  I must hit something because the pain in my head intensifies to a point of pure torture. My thoughts turn foggy, letting everything go while my eyes try to block out the pain, hoping that this isn’t the end.

  The coldness that is surrounding me, suddenly disappears. In its place, is a warmth that even subconsciously I’m drawn too. I hear voices around me but none that I can discern. Desperately, I will my body to listen to me.

  I slowly open my eyes trying to make sense of what is happening around me. I recognize no one though I realize that the guy who obviously saved me, is leaning over me, looking down at me. His crystal blue eyes are beautifully hypnotizing, full of promise and hope as he whispers something I don’t quite hear under his breath. I’m about to open my mouth when a tidal wave of water tumbles from my lips. My vision blurs, while my limbs go limp, and everything turns black.

  I scream and jolt upright in bed, my heart pounding erratically while my breaths come out short and shallow. Fuck. It’s just a dream – or nightmare. A reminder from a night that changed my life irrevocably.

  Turning my head to the side, I check the time, noting it’s still way too early, but knowing I’ll have to be up soon for classes. Inwardly, I groan and try to convince myself that I could try and squeeze in some more sleep. Although after what I’ve just dreamt, it’s highly unlikely.

  The need to just hide away from the world is crushing but knowing that I should face reality, I sit up in bed, leaning against my headboard.

  Pulling my leather-bound journal from underneath my pillow, I begin writing; my mind in a constantly tailspin, terrified that if I don’t write things down, I’ll forget. Just like I’ve already forgotten so much. The doctor had said this would help. Though, so far, all it seems to do, is tease me with what I forgot while my mind taunts me to remember.

  I can’t lie and say the last two years have been easy, because they’ve been anything but.

  Honestly, the days after the accident were some of the hardest ones I’ve ever had to face. I tried to understand what the doctor was telling me, but it was fucking hard to hear. Especially since I couldn’t actually remember what had happened. The fact that as I fell, I’d hit my head on the rocks in the sea, causing a form of amnesia, meant I’d lost all my memories I had, of my time in Grove Hill.

  You can imagine how shit it was to wake up a
nd only remember certain things. I can still see the pain etched on that girl’s face when I woke up in the hospital and couldn’t remember her name. She’d told me it was Mia, but I had no memories of her and whenever I tried to think of anything, all I felt was pain. I took that as a bad omen, so I stopped trying. I pushed people away that said they knew me, unsure of who I could and couldn’t trust.

  Isla tried to fill me in but having someone explain the damage and hurt that I’d gone through but couldn’t remember, was enough to block any sort of memories coming back to me. I didn’t want to know the shit that had happened, so I ran.

  Considering I could barely recall any of it, it was a relatively simple decision to just up sticks and move across state after I graduated. Most people knew I was running from the problem, but they had no idea what it felt like to be me. To live a life that I couldn’t remember shit about and have to face people that I didn’t recognize. Seeing the hurt portrayed on their faces when I tried to recall even the smallest of details, but couldn’t, was torture. Torment that I didn’t want to deal with any longer.

  Although, it seems my dreams are obviously trying to haunt me, as I picture Nathan above me. I left him behind along with everyone else and I regret it every single day.

  Initially, I didn’t remember him. And I’m fairly sure, the first time I saw him after I woke up, I called him Noah. Obviously, that little gem of a moment upset the hell out of him as he didn’t visit me for weeks afterwards. I’d hurt his pride, even though Isla had told him of my predicament.

  The next time I saw him, I could see how much he wanted me to remember, but I just couldn’t. I’d blocked everything out, him along with it. The more I saw him, the more broken he became and ultimately, I was trying to do us both a favor by moving away for college.

  The irony of the whole situation is though, as time has passed, the dreams are becoming more frequent, and I know part of my memories are coming back. I write everything down in my journal, documenting every thought. I’m not even sure whether I’m actually remembering something, or whether it’s my own subconscious tricking me, but every time it happens, I feel a little bit more whole and a little less broken.

  Not that it matters anyway, considering I haven’t seen or spoke to anyone that I used to know in years. The last I heard, Nathan was studying somewhere across state, and Mia? Well, that’s a story for another time.

  Tucking my journal back in between my bed and bedside table, I traipse out of my room, barely able to function until I shower and change, ready for the day ahead. It’s the first day back and nerves flutter in my stomach thinking about today’s classes.

  I’m pretty sure, I’m the urban dictionary definition of a flake. I’ve spent the past two years flitting from course to course, not really knowing what I want to do with my life and avoiding any sort of a decision. To be honest, the only reason why I’ve declared my major in creative writing is because Isla basically decided for me. The fact I journal a lot, lends itself well to writing and knowing I can write for days helps too. At this point, I have nothing else going for me, so it can’t do any harm to try.

  Throwing on a pair of shorts and black t-shirt, I head to the kitchen to grab myself some caffeine before I leave. Roxy is already there, leaning against the breakfast bar, slurping from her mug.

  “I made you some. Figured you might need it.” She gestures towards the coffee pot, which is half full. I practically run past her to grab a cup. This is why Roxy is the best roommate ever. I turn on my heels, pulling out a stool to sit on, while I inhale my coffee.

  I met Roxy two years ago, at the bar that we both work at. During my first shift, one of the guys mouthed off about a spilt drink and she kicked his ass out. It was simultaneously, terrifying and hilarious.

  To begin with, I have to admit I was a little scared of her. I’ve never meant anyone who rivals her in both attitude and looks. She’s one of the most beautiful and poised girls I know. Her jet-black hair falls to her waist, and one piercing look of her chocolate brown eyes is enough to have any guy on his knees. Tattoos adorn her body in different places, each one meaningful to her in their own way. Pair all that, with her no shit attitude and you have my roommate in a nutshell.

  “Are you working tonight?” She questions as she moves around the kitchen, making herself some breakfast. I’m entirely envious of her figure as she eats like a pig but never seems to put any weight on. Although I shouldn’t be surprised, considering the girl can run like Usain Bolt.

  “Sadly yes. Are you?” During the summer break, I’d picked up some extra hours, but now it’s school time, I’ve had to drop most of them. Anthony, my boss, isn’t too fussed though, considering he can always find someone new to replace the old.

  The Hideout is placed in a prime location situated near campus, meaning that most people that frequent there, are students our age. I say our age but I’m not quite twenty-one yet. Roxy had her birthday earlier on in the year, so technically, she’s not breaking any laws.

  However, I am, so Anthony tends to let me wait on the tables rather than work behind the bar. Normally, I don’t mind, but today, I’m already shattered, and the days barely begun. I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to make it through a full day of classes, then work the late shift till one.

  “Not tonight. Though I may pop down as Rory mentioned some sort of gathering with the team, that I fully intend of gate crashing.” She winks a conspiratorial wink my way and places a smug smirk on her face. Did I mention that Roxy is a twin?

  Her male counterpart, Rory, is part of the basketball team here at River Valley. He’s your typical jock, which completely negates Roxy’s rock chick guise she’s got going on. Rory has this all-American vibe, with his short sandy blonde hair and his devilish handsome looks. The only thing they have in common, is that they have the same whiskey-colored eyes. In terms of personalities, it’s like chalk and cheese, complete opposites.

  “Please don’t kick off tonight.” I roll my eyes, showing how much I don’t want to have to deal with their sibling drama. Where Rory is laid back and chilled, Roxy is stubborn and fierce. Even being her best friend, sometimes, there’s no talking her down from something she wants. Or rather who she wants. She hates being told no, and Rory doesn’t help the situation by warning all his teammates not to fuck with her and vice versa. To Roxy, that’s like dangling candy in front of a child and then telling them they’re not allowed to eat it.

  Honestly, I think she craves the challenge and let’s be real, most of the guys from the team are good guys anyway. And the ones that aren’t, well, I’m more worried for them than I am for Roxy.

  “I won’t kick off. You know I just do it to piss Rory off. Well, and to get laid too.” She giggles lightly as she places her now finished cup in the sink.

  “Anyway, I need to head out. You need a lift?” I nod, not feeling like walking to campus today. Our apartment isn’t far from campus, maybe like a forty-minute walk, and usually, I would walk or run it, but today I have zero energy.

  We both grab our stuff and I lock up, before making my way to Roxy’s car. For her birthday, her father bought her a huge SUV, in hopes that she’d be less of a bitch to him. It didn’t work, but she reaps the benefits from it anyway. I can’t grumble either as I settle into the passenger seat, curling up and closing my eyes while Roxy drives us to campus.

  “Izzy.” Roxy gently shakes my shoulder, waking me. I look around and realize we’ve arrived. Scrubbing the drool from my mouth, I murmur a thank you and goodbye to Roxy before making my way to class.

  River Valley isn’t huge but it’s big enough that I won’t see Roxy for the rest of the day. Most of her classes are on the other side of campus and our timetables clash most days, meaning we rarely get lunch together.

  Weaving my way through the throngs of people, my stomach begins churning. I don’t have anything to be nervous about, but my body seems to be on high alert for some reason. Glancing around, I feel completely on edge. My lack of sleep and abundan
ce of night terrors have clearly fucked with my head.

  Entering the lecture hall, I scan the room for a friendly face. My eyes spot Logan sitting at the back, his head in his phone, oblivious to the stares of every female in the room.

  I roll my eyes and head towards him, his eyes turning upwards when he hears me approach. A huge smile adorns his face as he jumps up and pulls me into a bear hug, which crushes my insides.

  “I was just about to text you, I thought you’d stood me up.” He flashes a wink my way, while gesturing for me to sit in the empty spot next to the one he just vacated.

  “Me? Stand you up? Never.” I sit down, watching Logan when he plonks himself down beside me. If it’s even possible, the guy has bulked up more over the summer. He’s at least 6’5 of pure muscle. His ash brown hair flops in front of his charcoal gray eyes as he leans forward to grab a pen from his back pocket. When he shifts back and relaxes, his eyes meet mine.

  “Stop checking me out, it’s weird.” He chuckles under his breath and my face grows pink. He’s right. It is weird. The entire time I’ve known him, there’s only been one person on his mind, although he’s never done anything about it. He’s madly in love with Roxy, but there are so many obstacles in his way, I don’t blame him for keeping it on the down low. Rory is his best friend and even I know, that goes against some weird bro code they seem to bang on about. It doesn’t help either, that they all grew up together, which places Logan firmly in the friend zone.

  I have to admit though, I am a tiny bit jealous that Roxy steals his affection; unknowingly too. The guy is a total catch. Sexy as sin, as well as being one of the most caring and compassionate guys I’ve ever known. Logan reminds me a little of Nathan, the Nathan that my brain allows me tiny snippets to recall anyway.

  Sighing, I grab my laptop from my bag and boot it up. There’s no use thinking about him. Nathan is my past, even if I am slowly starting to remember more. It doesn’t matter, Nathan’s thousands of miles away so I shouldn’t really be stressing over it.