“It’s not like you couldn’t have contacted me and met me somewhere,” I say, pursing my lips. “Can this be a happy moment, please? I don’t like it when you get angry.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw, but I see the moment he lets go of whatever is bugging him. His body relaxes, and he doesn’t look like he wants to kill me anymore. I give him directions to my new place, all the while greedily taking him in, his profile, his presence, everything. A year is a long time. His hair is longer on top, and a little lighter… from the sun? He’s wearing a black V-neck t-shirt and worn jeans, something that hasn’t changed.
“You going to stare at me until we get to your place?” he asks, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes.
I shift in my seat and look away, shrugging. “I haven’t laid eyes on you in person in a year, give me a break. You look the same, but different.”
“You look different,” he says, fingers tightening on the wheel. “You cut your hair.”
I touch my now blunt bob. “Yeah, don’t you like it? Wanted a change, and all I had to change was my hair, so I cut it. It will grow back. I think I prefer it long, but the blunt look is sexy. At least I think so.”
“You trying to look sexy now?” he says, not sparing me a glance.
I purse my lips. Is he going to twist everything I say? “Well, I’m a single woman. A little appreciation from the opposite sex isn’t something I need, but it’s nice.”
“As if you don’t get enough appreciation,” he says, clearing his throat.
How did we get into this conversation? This is not where I wanted it to head. “Are you working on a new album?”
He shakes his head. “Not just yet. Taking some time off.”
“How was Kate’s?”
“Same as usual,” he says, exhaling. “She’s a lot to deal with, but I wanted to see my cousins, so.... You know she pretty much hinted that I should buy her a car since I got you this one.”
“Yeah, she wasn’t happy when she found out about that,” I say, cringing. “In fact, she was pretty furious. I think she called your mum to complain.”
“Yeah well, luckily my mum is nothing like her,” he says.
“Very true,” I say, agreeing with that comment. “What’s new in your world?”
“Nothing much since the last time I spoke to you on the phone,” he says, referring to our monthly calls. Sometimes I’d cave and give him a quick ring. He’d ask where I was, what I was doing, and I’d make sure he was doing all right too. Kind of just checking in with each other. “How about you?”
“I made a new friend,” I tell him. “She does belly dancing with Tara and me. Her name is Persephone Knox. How cool is that name?”
“You do belly dancing?” he asks, eyebrows rising. “Since when?”
“Three months now,” I say. “Give or take. It’s hard, but it’s fun. Who knew there are so many ways you can move your hips? Certainly not me.”
Dean laughs, and the sound is like music to my ears. “Might have to put you in my next music video, hey? And yes, Persephone is an awesome name. Nice to see you have more than one friend these days.”
It’s true, Tara is usually my only friend, and I’m hers, but now we’re adding to the two person squad. “Hey, when I was travelling I made heaps of friends. They’re just scattered all over the world now. And Tara will always be my best friend. Nothing and no one can change that.”
“Did you meet any… more than friends?” he asks, air in the car thickening as he awaits my reply.
“No,” I say, dragging out the word. “Lots of guy friends, but no more than friends.”
“Hmmm,” is all he replies.
“How about you? Any recent more than friends? Famous celebrities?” I ask, only since he did. Fair is fair. If he gets to be nosy, then so do I.
“Nope,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate.
“Why? Haven’t met anyone that has caught your eye?” I push. I don’t know why I want to know so badly. I guess it’s hard to understand how someone like him, who has beautiful women throwing themselves at him, can be single for so long. Yeah, I know he’s not a shallow man, so just looks wouldn’t sway him, but surely out of all those women he’d have a connection with at least one? I don’t get him. Then again, I probably won’t think any woman is good enough for him.
“Nope,” he repeats, again with no explanation.
“Well, that’s no fun,” I mutter under my breath. “Turn right here.”
He turns right onto my street and I point to my apartment building. “That’s it there. It’s going to be a little harder sneaking you in now that I’m in an apartment. Shit, I didn’t think about that.”
“It’s fine,” he says, looking for a parking bay. “My disguise has improved since the last time.”
“Upgrade from a cap to a beanie?” I tease, smirking at my own joke.
“Nope, still a cap, but I’ve added sunglasses,” he says with a straight face. It’s then I realise he’s serious.
“And how’s that going for you?”
He parks the car then turns to me, giving me all of his attention. “Why don’t you wait and see. I bet we get to your apartment with not one person recognising me. It’s night-time anyway, so there will be no issues.”
“It also means you can’t wear sunglasses, because you’ll look stupid,” I point out.
He offers me his hand. “If I get to your place with no issues, you have to cook me breakfast tomorrow morning.”
I’d have cooked for him anyway, but I’m not going to point that out.
I take his hand but I don’t shake it, yet. “And if I win, you have to answer any five questions I choose to ask you with brutal honesty.”
He seems to ponder that. “Okay, but I get more than breakfast then. If I win, I get to take you somewhere, anywhere I choose, and you don’t get to complain about it.”
Where would he want to take me?
“Okay, deal,” I say.
We shake.
Chapter Ten
We make it to my front door without anyone recognising him, even though we passed several people and my neighbour, Bennett, stopped me to say hello.
“I win,” he says, smiling and placing his bag on the floor. “I now get a delicious breakfast and get to take you somewhere of my choosing.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I groan, watching him take in my new place. “I can’t believe those stupid sunglasses worked. You looked like a douchebag.”
“But an effective one,” he says, chuckling.
“Room on the right is yours,” I say, nodding to my spare bedroom. It’s right next to my bedroom, which is different from the set-up I had in the house.
“This place is nice,” he says, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge. I love how he makes himself at home, feeling comfortable enough so I don’t have to worry about him to make sure he has everything he needs. He makes being a host easy, because if he wants something, he’ll take it or he’ll tell me.
“Thanks,” I say. “I do miss having a garden, but for now it works. Work is close by, and it’s low maintenance. Great for someone who has no idea what they’re doing with their life.”
I still miss Ben, but now the pain has dulled a little. I can get through a day, or a few, without thinking about it. Of course there are times I still get a little down about not having him here, and I miss him every day, but I’m not suffering with the crippling pain of loss anymore. I’ve accepted it. That doesn’t mean I’ll ever forget him though. He’ll be with me forever.
“You’re doing just fine, Sabina,” he says, taking out a bottle of water and cracking it open.
“Well I’m glad someone thinks so,” I mumble, flashing him a smile and jumping up on the kitchen counter, watching him. “Travelling changes your perspective on things, I think. Having a house and a mortgage don’t seem as important as they did before.”
He swallows the water in his mouth then nods. “I agree. Really shows you how much there is to the world. Not everythi
ng has to be as you know it; you can learn new ways of life and see which way you want to live.”
He steps closer to me, his rock-hard stomach touching my knees. He takes a lock of my hair between his fingers and tugs gently. “I love the long hair, but this cut does really suit you.”
“Thanks,” I say, smiling. When he’s about to move away I wrap my legs around him. “You were angry with me.”
Yeah, I didn’t visit him in the last year, which is a long time, but I don’t think he should be so angry about that. It wasn’t a rule that we’d catch up annually, and we made no promises. I’ve never even been to his house before, and neither had Ben. We’d only see Dean when he came to visit and for family events and holidays.
“I know,” he says, the intense look in his eyes making me want to break eye contact.
“Why?” I ask, softly. “I mean, I know why… but, really tell me why.”
“You lost the bet, I don’t owe you any brutally honest answers,” he says, eyes lowering to my lips. The whole thing is fucked up, because if he kissed me right now, I wouldn’t pull away. I know he wouldn’t do it, but still.
He’s Ben’s cousin.
I need to keep thinking of him as such.
I haven’t been with anyone since Ben, which leaves my number at a very sad-looking one, and I do miss sex. I went from having it whenever I wanted to not having it at all, but I haven’t met anyone I want to take that step with. It’s a big deal for me, sleeping with someone after only having been with my husband. What would it be like? What if it’s shit because there are no emotions involved, no love? What if I’m not very good in bed? Sure, I’ve been having sex for years, but with only one man, so I’m kind of tuned to everything Ben liked, and that’s it. I know things one way and one way only. I’ve never even seen another dick in real life. Oh, God. The thought of seeing a different one kind of gives me anxiety. I mean, if I’ve seen one have I seen them all? I highly doubt it. I always thought Ben had a nice-sized dick, but with nothing to compare it to I don’t know if he was big or small. Not that it matters; we had a good sex life, and he always left me satisfied. What if I can’t come for anyone else? I don’t think sex is meant to be this stressful.
“I don’t need to win a bet to want to hear the truth from you,” I say, boldly raising my hand and cupping his cheek. “I like the stubble.”
“Sabina,” he growls, gently pushing my hand away. He doesn’t move though. He stays where he is, my legs on each side of him, his face so close to mine that I can see the gold flecks in his eyes.
“Dean,” I say back, in a much softer tone. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” he rumbles, dropping his eyes. “Why do you think I was so angry? You had every chance to come, you went all over the world, but you didn’t. Why?”
“I don’t know,” I say, licking my lips. It’s not exactly true, I kind of do know why, but I don’t know how to say it. I don’t even know if it’s true. I’m completely confused. I don’t want to say anything I’m thinking out loud because then it makes it real. And this? It cannot be real. It just can’t. It’s wrong. It’s… impossible. It’s me reaching for someone who is comfortable, and having him as a friend should be more than enough. It should be, right?
“Lie,” he murmurs, tilting his head to the side and studying me. “You ask me to speak the truth then dare lie to my face?”
I purse my lips. “I was travelling to see new things, Dean. To meet new people and explore. To broaden my horizon and to deal with my grief in a different way. To figure out who the hell I am. And I needed to be alone for that. How would running to you help anything?”
He nods once, accepting that reply.
“I know you’d have been there for me, and have tried to help me, just like you did when you came here last year. But you couldn’t save me from this. I had to feel it, grieve it, and let it go. I couldn’t run to you to save me, I had to save myself. And I did. I saw, I learnt, I felt. I found myself again, the single version of me. I know the person I want to be. And you know what? I am fine. I’m strong. And I’m ready for my next adventure.”
“I know you are,” he says, lip twitching. “That was never the issue.”
“What was the issue?” I ask him, holding my breath as I wait for his reply.
“That you were his,” he says, brow furrowing as if he can’t believe his own words. He takes a step back, my legs dropping, and leaves the kitchen, grabbing his bag and heading into the guest room. I sit there and think over the words he just said.
That I was his?
Ben’s?
And not… his?
I shake my head. No. Why did I push him just now? I’ve never done it before. I wish I hadn’t.
The thing about words, you can think them all you want, but once you say them you can’t take them back.
Those four words of his just changed everything.
*****
I want to hide in my room after that but I don’t. There’s no way we can avoid this now that it’s come about, and I feel like it’s my turn to be honest with him. I knock twice on his door. He tells me to come in, so I open the door and enter. He’s lying in bed on his back, shirtless, arms folded behind his head. Great, now I have to have this conversation trying not to look at his body? Why does everything feel different all of a sudden? Last time he was here I could be around him with no issues.
What has changed?
Is it because last time Ben was still standing between us, even though he wasn’t there? Does it even matter? Nothing can happen between us.
Okay, I’m getting ahead of myself here.
“I meant what I said before, but there’s more,” I say, sitting down on the edge of the bed and looking down at my hands. “Last time you left, I missed you. I mean, more than I should have, and it scared me a little.”
We’re in a defining moment, caught between the truth and the reality of the situation. None of this makes sense.
“How the fuck did we get here?” I mutter, puffing out a breath and lifting my head. “You mean so much to me, Dean, and I don’t want to ruin it. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
What if he does the typical male thing and starts avoiding me right now? Or ignoring me. I think that would kill me. I like knowing he’s always there if I need to reach out to him, and I like to think he knows that I’m here for him too.
“Nothing is going to ruin our friendship,” he assures me, patting the spot next to him. “Come here.”
I hesitantly scoot up the bed and lie back on a separate pillow. “How is this going to help the situation?”
“It’s not,” he says, then adds softer, “I just like having you near me.”
I open my mouth, and then close it. “So we’re just saying whatever we feel with no filter now, I guess.”
“Would you rather we didn’t?” he asks, turning to his side, facing me. “We can pretend today never existed if you want to, Sabina. I have no idea what’s going on in that head of yours or what you want from me.”
“Does it matter though?” I ask, laughing bitterly. “You’re his cousin, Dean. How am I meant to be okay with that? It’s like the ultimate betrayal to his memory.”
“He’s not here, but we are, Sabina. Are you going to give away your happiness over some misplaced guilt?”
“How is it misplaced?” I ask, turning my head to him, scanning his facial features. His eyes are soft and unguarded, and the last thing I want to do is hurt him. He’s everything a man should be, strong yet yielding, protective and encouraging at the same time.
What do I want from him?
Chapter Eleven
Dean
I remember the first time I saw her, back in high school. She was sitting on the grass, her dark hair blowing in the wind, her bare legs folded beneath her.
“Who is that?” I ask Ben, frozen in my tracks at the sheer beauty of the girl. I don’t pay much attention to girls, to be honest. I’m usually lost in my music, and although I have se
veral female friends, they are just that, friends. No one has ever caught my eye like this girl has, and it’s a new feeling. An exciting one.
“That’s Sabina,” Ben says, watching her. “She’s in my year. Why?”
I take a step toward her, like she is pulling me in her direction. If any girl is meant for me, she’s the one. I can feel it in my bones.
“Come on, we better get to practice,” Ben says, pulling me out of the Sabina haze.
And Sabina, what a beautiful name.
A week later, before I could work up the nerve to ask her out, she and Ben started dating.
My own cousin.
And she stayed with him. She married him.
And she asked me to sing at her fucking wedding. I couldn’t even say no, because it was her asking. She wanted me to, and so I did. For her. To see her smile. My feelings for her aren’t selfish, and never have been, so even though it killed me inside, I looked at her and sang.
I don’t know how I got through the song, but I did.
For her.
I still can’t hear that song without feeling like someone punched me in the gut.
I don’t have words for what that felt like, watching her with my own blood, and more than that Ben was not the man she thought he was.
Every song I’ve written since then has been about her, in some way or another.
*****
“It’s misplaced because there is no reason to feel guilty. You aren’t cheating on him. He’s not here,” I say once more, wishing she could get it through her head, wishing she could just open her eyes and see how happy I can make her. I’ve watched her from afar, watched over her, been her friend, been her family, I’ve been everything I can to her in some way or another, but I’ve never been the one she loves. I’ve never been her man. And it’s the only thing I’ve wanted since I first laid eyes on her.
I’ve been in love with her for as long as I can remember, but I hid it. Buried it. She was married to my cousin, and that was that. My love story had no happy ending, my lyrics my only refuge from the pain unrequited love brings a soul. I dated, I met many different women, but none of them ever made me feel how I feel about Sabina.
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