As long as there’s love, everything else solves itself. I close my eyes and remember the exact moment she said those words.
We were in Baja, at her parents’ house for the weekend.
“Imagine living like them.” She watched an old, retired couple who lived next door. “After so many years they’re finally enjoying each other. I think that’s what my parents are doing at the moment. Delegating responsibilities and just chilling while being together. If they love each other, the rest solves itself in one way or another.”
I tried to argue about the cost of living. “Shut up, Mason Bradley. In Ainse’s imagination, those things don’t compute. We’re on vacation.” Then she glared at me. “And don’t bring up the fact that my parents are rich. You know the only help I get from them are the low payments for my house.”
I twist my watch, checking the time, and roll my shoulders as I wait for the valet to bring over my car. My breathing accelerates as I spot a lime green car that looks exactly like Eleanor. But it’s an older woman behind the wheel.
Fuck, I miss her so much it hurts.
I run a few red lights on my way to the music school. Maybe I can talk to her, come to some sort of an agreement and convince her of something, like letting me hold her and make love to her at least one more time. Sleep has avoided me for the past three weeks. I miss her. Miss the sound of her soft breaths and her body pressing against mine as I hold her at night.
I fucked this up. Ainse is my home, my heart, my memories, and the one person I can’t live without. I don’t know how to win her back after shattering her heart into little fucking pieces. That night cruelty dripped from my mouth as I hit those places I knew she’d hurt, all with the goal to make sure she’d stay away before I could succumb to her presence. She didn’t crumble, she fought back, and one thing is for sure: I’m the one that hurt the most. Nine doesn’t need anyone to pick her up. She can hold herself and continue with her life.
As I wait for her to come out of the school, I watch the recording studio across the street. I wonder if she may be over there, but I stay put, fixing my jacket and trying to shelter myself from the pouring rain.
A couple steps out of the school, together holding a large black umbrella that protects them from the rain. I chide myself for not bringing something to offer her, except my good intentions.
My heart drops to the floor when I take a second glance at the couple, and I recognize those brown curls and that silhouette. I know every curve, movement, angle, and line of that beautiful body. My Nine.
This might be a mistake, I lecture myself. If I follow them, I’ll learn that he’s just a college kid walking her to her car because she always loses her umbrella. Two blocks and gallons of rain later bring me to the coffee house Nine likes to visit often. The man opens the door for her, closes the umbrella, and follows her inside. Ainse whispers something in his ear and after sharing an intimate smile, she heads to take a seat at her usual corner booth. The guy goes to the counter, orders, and pays for their shit. Feeling my world crumble, I continue staring as he waits for the drinks, takes them to where she is, and they share a few laughs while sipping from their ceramic cups. The intimate exchange of wiping the foamy milk from her top lip, her touching his forearm as she laughs crushes me. Nine moved on with her life. She promised she wouldn’t wait around. It’s clear as water that I lost her.
My heart is telling me to fight… to walk right in and show her that she’s mine.
I don’t do it.
For all I know, this guy might be that ‘happily ever after’ she wants. I order myself to move from the big window and to stop staring at her. At that moment, she freezes. Her neck turns slightly, and her eyes narrow when she spots me. She shakes her head and goes back to the new guy.
I hold on to the bottle of Sam Adams as the room spins around. I’m not too far gone that I don’t know where I am.
“Two fucking days drinking. I told you to grab water, not beer.” MJ takes away the bottle and hands me an uncapped water bottle with two aspirins. “I’m glad you called JC and not AJ.”
I pop the pills in my mouth and chase it with the entire bottle of water. Setting the empty container on the floor, I rub my eyes, looking around.
“Two days?”
“Yeah, asshole. You called on Tuesday, around midnight, loaded. It’s Thursday—seven at night. I haven’t slept at all. The owl is about to go ballistic because he hasn’t hit the bed either.” JC grunts. MJ peels his teeth at me, but laughs. I’ll never understand why Nine and JC called him the Owl.
“Your drunk personality is a fucking nightmare.” MJ hands me another bottle of water. “If it wasn’t because we owe you years of babysitting, your ass would be in the morgue.”
“MJ’s the one who came up with the idea of calling your buddies to help us—Wings and Kowalski. Between the four of us we were able to bring you back to our place. They gave you some pill to lower the alcohol levels. Or was it to hydrate you? Kowalski told you to fix your shit or he would shoot you.”
I backtrack my steps. The moment I saw her, Nine, with another man. Fuck, she’s moving on, and I’m stuck here battling between fighting for her or letting her find a guy who can give her the shit she deserves. It’s not like I couldn’t.
“As long as there’s love, the rest solves itself in one way or another,” I say out loud, slamming my head as I try to remove the haze. Stupid alcohol.
“Great he’s going to start again,” JC complains. I look up and stare at him. “We’ve heard a fucking play-by-play about your stupid life for the past two days. I wish the bitch had clawed you, but she was pretty decent.”
“Yep, the bitch went easy on you after you broke her heart,” MJ agrees, and now I get who they’re talking about. Their sister, my Nine. “So far she hasn’t transformed in the Queen of Ice, but if she does, I’ll pay your friends to fuck up your face. They gave me their number.”
I bob my head without saying a word, because I have no recollection of any of what they’re saying. How much I talked, drank, or did. After the coffee shop, I headed to a liquor store and bought a bunch of shit. Then made a beeline to my office, and I lost track of what happened after. I scratch the back of my head.
“You sure it was two days?”
“Yep,” JC sighs looking around the room. “MJ, mind replaying for us, ‘she’s fucking dating again?’ Oh, and add some of the ‘I’d fucking fly to the sun if she asked me.’ And don’t forget the ‘I swear if she gives me another chance, I’m never going to stop worshiping her.’”
“Wait,” I lift my palm toward Matthew before he starts his stupid action scenes. “You’re fucking serious about it? Did I tell you about the breakup, too?”
They both nod. I rub my entire face, trying to remember something, and still nothing comes up.
“Is she dating that guy?” I have to ask.
“No. During our daily call, we asked her about Tuesday night.” I missed those stupid calls. The three talking and including me meant something deep to Nine. Me, too. “She went out with Oscar for a cup of coffee. He broke up with his boyfriend. Ozzy is AJ’s friend. They’re close and, well, she found a soul mate to spend some time with, though I don’t think they are each other’s type.”
“AJ loves you, idiot,” JC adds. “Didn’t I tell you to break up with her before shit hit the fan?”
I nod.
“We knew this would happen. You weren’t ready, and she was,” MJ growls. “Which is funny, because you have always been the one swooning for her—since we were children.”
“True story,” JC takes over. “Your little boy crush on her never disappeared.”
The way these two communicate is hilarious, and if Nine was with them, the three would be talking as one person with different voices.
“I propose that you sober up tonight,” JC tells me. “We can fix your shit, as long as you really want to. Another strike and I’ll make sure you regret being born.”
“Any pointers on how to grovel
? Because I fucked up big time, and I just can’t lose her. I love her so much, I haven’t… ” Wait, did I just say I love her? I guess… no, I do love my Nine. All this time I have been in love with her, but just too scared to admit it to her and myself.
“…Slept in over two weeks, you’re about to die because you haven’t held her for what feels like an eternity, and all that fucking shit,” JC finishes my sentence and covers his ears. “Shut up, we heard that already, several times. We told you our plan already, but you were drunk.”
MJ grits his teeth as he narrows his gaze at me. “She better not be in bitch mode because of you. I hate when she’s like that.”
He does, but not for the reasons everyone thinks. JC and I know that he hates it because that means she is hurting.
“While we talk to her on your behalf, sober up.” MJ points at me, loosening his jaw. “Stay here, we’ll be back tomorrow.”
I drag a hand through my hair, hot gall rising in the back of my throat. The thoughts of the way I treated her weigh heavily on me. Now I depend on these two to fix the shit I created.
“Again, can you tell me the plan?”
“We’re visiting our baby sister so she can take care of us after all your abuse,” JC casually says, then grins. Their plan is to annoy the hell out of her? “Wait until we talk to her. The Ice Queen needs some softening before you appear to confess that you’re an idiot who loves her.”
“Think big words and great gestures,” MJ recommends.
They both leave me alone at their place, and I debate between searching for more alcohol or hitting the shower and sleeping.
Toby and I head to the music room to grab Breezy—my guitar. Ironically, it’s been twenty some days since Mason erased himself from my home. Earlier today, I tried to fill the empty spots with my own clothing, but the emptiness remains intact.
I debate on what I miss the most, my friend and pretend superhero, or the man I fell in love with. An almost six-month relationship; less than a year. That’s nothing if I compare it to other relationships. A poor excuse to convince myself that it doesn’t matter. I coach myself every day when my heart cracks at the memories we had together. But then, if I add the prelude, the years of friendship and mix it all up, it makes sense that the pain I feel is excruciating.
Breezy rests on her guitar stand, lonely and dusty from the lack of use. These days I haven’t had the time or energy to play music when I’m at home. My last resource to have some company, I make a call. My parents are on the other side of the world but made me promise to call them often.
“Hey sweetheart,” Dad answers immediately.
“Hi, Dad.” Ignoring the dirt that will gather under my socks, I head to the backyard and sit on the swing. Toby leaps on my lap and curls himself to sleep. “How are you?”
“Fine, reading a few scripts for a few movies,” he sighs. “Planning a couple of action movies. Ready for this? They want to make Never End Seven. Bring me back. No, don’t laugh, Christian, I still have it.”
“If Stallone can do it, I don’t see why you can’t,” I tell him. “You’re younger.”
“And hotter,” Chris yells from the background. “So much hotter I can eat you right now.”
“Eww, Fathers, you better not start.” I struggle as their flirtation is making me laugh, but I seriously want to gag at the thought of my parents having sex.
“I need space, Christian,” Gabe blurts out. “I’m putting her on speaker or we’re going to end this call too soon.”
We talk about the music school. He tells me his future movie plans and explains the amazing the view from his room. Another tactic to convince me to head down and visit them in Santa Barbara. I brush them off and concentrate on MJ and his film career; he’s getting a master’s degree in cinematography and TV production to get him started. My brothers are planning to take over the world with their knowledge. We don’t know how they’ll do it, but we know they’ll make it happen. JC wants me to help him run the record company, but I’m on the fence about that one.
“I’m heading to bed,” I say after a series of yawns. “I’ll talk to you soon, parental units.”
“We love you, baby girl,” they say in unison. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, I love you both so much.”
The pitch dark night, naked trees, and the cold breeze copycats my mind, my soul… Breaking up with him hurt, but knowing he never felt much for me is what crushes me. You fall in love, you fly, you lose your wings and smash your entire body on the floor. I call that AJ’s circle of life.
It has to be me. I lack something essential—common sense to choose the right man. I cuddle Toby closer, and I’m about to rise when the doorbell rings. My heart thumps, because who else would come to visit me at this time of night?
That grain of hope is gone faster than it arrived. Both my brothers wave toward the right corner of the porch where the security camera is.
I peel my socks off and place them on the staircase as I head to open the door for them. They are a welcome distraction. When I open the door, JC inspects me from head to toe. I ruffle his shoulder length, dark blond hair. He rolls his blue eyes and tilts his head out of my reach. Not a difficult task as he’s taller than me.
“Hello. Yes, I haven’t been taken by aliens, still the same person.” Love them both, but I’m not sure if I want to shut the door or let them in. Why are they looking at me as if they haven’t seen me before?
“She’s alive,” he finally says stepping inside and kissing my cheek. “Miss Ainsley Janine doesn’t look as shitty as I thought, won’t you say?” He looks over his shoulder and waits for MJ to agree.
“She’s also sober,” MJ sniffs around me.
“Yes, alive and sober,” I confirm, touching my arms and pinching myself slightly. “And not dreaming that you two are here saying weird stuff. Why wouldn’t I be alive and sober?”
They sprawl themselves on my leather couches, and I take a seat on the floor while resting my back on the sofa where MJ lays. They both are in need of a nap; the circles under their eyes and the wrinkled clothes are an indication that they’ve being partying.
“The two of you don’t look sober. What happened?” I try not to imply what the two of them have been doing: partying hard.
“Why didn’t you say anything about loverboy being the dumper?”
I don’t have an answer to that question. When I told my brothers about the breakup, I said it had been a mutual agreement. They are good friends with Mason, and I didn’t want them to lose that friendship because of me.
“How did you find out?” A stupid question, as they are friends with Mase.
“He’s a fucked up mess,” JC tells me.
MJ twists his lips to the left and shrugs as if agreeing.
“He’s crying like a little kid because he fucked up his life big time.” JC shakes his head while rolling his eyes. “We warned him, that he’d be the one wimping around.”
“You warned him?” I’m working hard not to show any interest about Mason, but these two are making it hard. “Warned him about what?” I glare at both of them and wait for them to speak.
“It doesn’t matter, Ainsy.” MJ bats his eyelashes and grins. “You only need to know that loverboy is crying for his girl. We’ve had to babysit him since Tuesday as he drank an entire distillery—all by himself.”
Mute, I turn from one side to the other waiting for more information about loverboy.
“So how much groveling does he have to do?” JC questions.
“For what, me?” They both make kissy noises as they hug themselves—they are insane. “Don’t play with me, you two,” I breathe deeply. “Didn’t you hear? We’re over and that’s the end of it. As for you two, you look hungry and tired. There’s plenty of room here. I’ll prepare you something quick.”
“Really over?” They ask in unison.
I ignore them both because there’s no way I’m going to discuss Mason and what we once had.
“Man, he fuc
ked up big time,” MJ groans. “Well, at least she isn’t in bitch mode yet.”
I give them a weary shrug, push myself up, and head to the kitchen.
“But what if…” I throw my arms up in the air, shake my head, but refrain from cussing up a storm. JC stops talking and both stare at each other. They’ll back off for now.
“If you want me to feed you, you better not say the ‘M’ word,” I warn them. “Whatever he’s going through isn’t my problem. I’m done loving him; he wore me down. He won.”
“Tomorrow. We’ll campaign tomorrow.” JC sits at the kitchen table. “I owe him several favors; the least I could do is soften you for when he sobers up and crawls into your room through the window.”
The corners of my lips fight against my head. I won’t allow them to curl up as the image of Mason climbing through my window forms inside my head. Like when we stayed in Baja, and he’d climb to my room at night and jump out every morning.
For a change, the chime of my phone wakes me up before the alarm clock does. I push the blankets and stretch my limbs as far as I can before checking my phone. My parents can wait, assuming they are the ones who texted me.
Mase: Remember my wishes? The ones I never told you what they were? I should have.
The picture is the silhouette of a couple with a caption. Wish #1: To kiss you.
I cover my eyes with my forearm. This isn’t happening. Why is he doing this to me? The second chime makes me groan, and as I check on the text, the image of the restaurant where we went on our first date appears. Wish #2: Be your first date.
Before I can reply, the picture of a scribbled note appears. It reads, ‘Do you want to be my girlfriend yes or yes’ Both are underlined and circled. Wish #3: To be your boyfriend.
J-9: What are you doing? No, actually stop what you’re doing.
Another picture arrives: a calendar. Wish #4: To be with you every day.
Mase: Wish #5: Make love to you.
Mase: Wish #6: Have you in my bed every night.
Mase: Wish #7: Make you fall in love with me.
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