Fault (Define Book 3)

by Nicola Hudson

  “Thanks.”

  I put the bag under the bed and stood, awkward in the face of his indifference.

  “How’s he doing?”

  The look Noah gave me startled me. I had never seen such coldness from him. “How does it look like he’s doing, Grace?” A sarcastic wave of his hand in Max’s direction cut me even more. “He’s had another stroke. The doctors think he has a bleed on the brain and surgery may not be an option. So how do you think he’s doing?”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe you want to distract me so I miss the next update on his condition?” He paused. “Sorry, that was uncalled for. I’m a mess. Why don’t you go back to the house? I’ll call you if there’s any change.”

  “I don’t mind waiting here.”

  “I would rather you didn’t.”

  I tried to tell myself that he was hurting, that he didn’t intend to upset me, but I couldn’t quite convince myself it was the truth.

  “Okay. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.” I bent over and kissed Max’s cheek before brushing away the tear that fell onto his dry skin.

  Noah didn’t acknowledge me as I left the ward.

  By the time I got home, I’d forgiven him. As hurtful as he had been, I could only imagine what he must have been feeling on the train back from London. The idea that he could lose Max after everything they had gone through was unbearable.

  Me: I love you. I love Max. I’m here for you. xx

  Noah: I know. Sorry.

  Me: No need to apologise. xx

  I stretched my cramped body on the sofa, my dozing disturbed by the sound of the front door closing.

  “I’m in here,” I called, hoping Noah wasn’t going to be telling me that my worst fears had come true.

  He walked in, a shattered shell of the man he had been earlier. “His condition has stabilised and they are going to run a full scan in the morning.” His eyes checked the clock on the fireplace. “Well, later. The nurse suggested I get a few hours’ sleep as it could be a long day if they operate.” Something, exhaustion or emotion, coloured his words, and my heart cried out, desperate to make him feel better. Desperate to do whatever was needed to take that pain away.

  I stood, and he let me pull him into my arms. There were no words I could utter to make up for the last few hours. Nothing I said would change the position we were now in. All I could do was try to help him forget.

  Pushing him down onto the sofa, I covered his body with mine. I leant into him, dropping kisses on his neck, his cheeks, his eyes. When I got to his mouth, there was a hunger in his reciprocation. His hands gripped my hips as I moved back and fro, creating a friction that distracted us both from reality. He reached into the top of my sundress, freeing my breast before closing his mouth around it, taking my mind away from anything else other than the feel of his tongue, his teeth. Almost. I held his head to me, my fingers scraping at his scalp, yearning for more.

  When his mouth moved across my chest, I pulled my dress over my head, wanting, needing to give him everything. With only my underwear between us, I could feel the ridge of his hardness as I rode his hips. He pushed me away long enough to take off his shirt before claiming my mouth again. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest, hip to hip. But it still wasn’t enough to take the ache away.

  I reached down and released him, caressing the weight that told me how much he wanted me. Wanted this. Pulling my underwear to one side, I shifted so his hardness pressed against me, nudging its way forward. I moved enough to feel the tip of him push at my entrance and leant back, filling myself. After a moment to adjust, my hips moved of their own volition, seeking and searching, forcing him to respond.

  Noah stared at me as his hips moved in a relentless rhythm, pulling me closer and closer to the edge of reason yet further away from him. I closed my eyes, refusing to acknowledge the lack of anything in his, as he tipped over, taking me down with him.

  I FELT LIKE SHIT.

  I felt like a shit.

  Trying to pick up my things without disturbing Grace, I knew I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for what had happened. I hadn’t even spoken to her, just used her. I’d never treated a girl like that before, let alone someone I supposedly loved. Yet, even though the right thing to do would be to hold her, reassure her in the morning that I still loved her, I had to go.

  A quick shower and a change of clothes later, I left the house, not allowing myself to look in on her again. It was still the night shift on duty at the hospital, and I sensed the displeasure of the nurse who had told me to go home and rest. If only she knew how far away from rested I was at that moment.

  Folding myself into the vinyl chair next to Dad’s head, I closed my eyes and willed sleep to take away the feel of Grace’s warmth that still clung to me, the image of her head thrown back as she came apart. No such luck. I was a fool for believing that I would ever forget any of it.

  Grace: Any news? xx

  Grace: How are you? xx

  Grace: I love you but need you to reply. xx

  Grace: I’m coming to the hospital. xx

  Me: Please don’t. He’s gone for the scan. I’ll let you know. xx

  Grace: OK. I’m going to work tonight. I love you. xx

  I switched my phone off and waited.

  The scan showed that Dad had a blood clot on the brain. In serious voices, the doctors told me that operating wasn’t ‘currently viable’ and that the next ten days were critical as they were going to keep him in an induced coma until the swelling receded. All I could do was sit and wait. And think. And pray to a god I’d long given up believing in.

  “Have you eaten today?” I looked at the nurse’s badge when she shook me awake. Celia. She was reflected in the window and I guessed that visiting time had ended hours before.

  “I can’t remember,” I admitted, shaking out my clenched limbs.

  “Look, I know you think you know better, and Lord knows I’m probably wasting my time after you ignored my advice last night, but you need to look after yourself.” Celia folded her arms and looked at me with pursed lips. “You’re in this for the long haul and driving yourself into the ground ain’t an option. You’re all he’s got, and he needs you to be strong. Go home. Get some sleep and some food. Come back tomorrow with something to read to him. The brain takes in what it hears even when everything else is turned off. You get me?” She started writing down the mystical numbers from the wall of machines. “Go!”

  I took her advice.

  The house was silently dark when I pulled into the driveway next to Grace’s scooter. Dropping my keys and wallet on the side, I made my way upstairs, uncertain as to whether I should wake her or not. Opting for not after the night before, I made stealthy use of the bathroom and went to my room, only to find her asleep in my bed. Silently taking off my clothes, I slipped in next to her.

  Her arms wound around me, her chest pressed into my back. “How is he?” she asked, her voice blurred with sleep.

  “Still no answer,” I whispered. “Go back to sleep.” I stroked her arm, hoping to lull her back.

  “I missed you.”

  “I know,” I admitted.

  She stroked the skin of my stomach, feather-light touches that tingled from my scalp to my toes.

  “Go to sleep.” I could feel the flutter of open eyelashes as she kissed the back of my neck, her hands continuing to draw lines that tore at my self-restraint. “What do you want, Grace?”

  “I want you. I want us.” I knew her well enough to notice the slight catch in her voice, the moment of uncertainty she felt.

  There was only one way I could give her that, so I rolled over and kissed her, intent on erasing the guilt of the night before. She parted her lips, giving me permission to make her feel better, telling me we could continue to avoid saying the words we didn’t want to hear. Running her hands through my hair, she pulled me closer, on top of her.

  Sorry. Sorry. But I made no sound.

  W
e each took off the layers that separated us, yearning to lose ourselves in the race to become one. But I needed to worship her, to atone for my sins. I pushed her back and moved down the bed, easing her legs open. My fingers felt she was ready. My mouth tasted she was ready. The quiver and shiver of her body in my hands told me she was beyond ready. I took her as the crescendo reached its peak, finding my own release too soon after her.

  I love you. I love you. But I made no sound.

  CREEPING OUT OF my own room early the next morning was worse than any walk of shame. I had to accept that I couldn’t be the man she needed me to be. Hell, I was barely managing to look after myself, let alone Dad, let alone her.

  Sipping on scalding coffee in the kitchen, I heard her descend the stairs. “I was worried you were leaving without saying goodbye,” she said, smiling at me as she filled the kettle. I turned away so I didn’t have to look at her legs in her miniscule sleep shorts.

  “No, I just wanted to let you sleep,” I lied, hating myself that little bit more.

  “So how is Max? You didn’t say much last night,” she added, seemingly unaware of the irony.

  “It is a bleed on his brain and they don’t think they can operate. He’s being kept in a coma until the swelling goes down.”

  Grace came over and put her arms around me, her nipples hardening as they brushed against my arm. “That doesn’t sound good. But at least he’s in the right place.” Something in me snapped. She was so beautiful, so fucking amazing. So wrong.

  “He’s not in the right place though, is he, Grace? If he was, he would be here, and this would be a normal Wednesday morning.” My anger made her hold stronger, and she made the sound one makes to calm a frightened animal. I pulled away, uncaring that we both lost our balance in the process. “Don’t fucking patronise me. He could die! Don’t you realise that?”

  With a calm dignity that belied her age, she stood firm. “Of course I do. But he’s not the only one I care about, Noah. Of course I’m worried about him. But I’m also worried about you.” Her ability to hold herself together as I was falling apart pushed me over.

  “Maybe that’s the fucking problem. Maybe we should have been paying less attention to each other and more to him. Maybe we would have seen the signs.” There it was, the fear I hadn’t been able to admit to myself.

  “That’s bullshit and you know it. You couldn’t have predicted this would happen. Nobody could.”

  “When did you become a leading expert on strokes? Did I miss the memo?” She took a step back but still faced me and the force of my anger. “Of course this was predictable. It can always happen again.”

  “But he’s been doing so well lately.”

  “Fuck. Do you not get it? You’ve pushed him too hard in the last few weeks. You’ve driven him to this, making him write and use the iPad and so on. He was fine until you interfered.” That was the lie that broke her, the one I wished I hadn’t voiced. But it served its purpose.

  “You bastard. How dare you put this on me? Is that how little you think of me?” I wavered at the sight of her tears but made myself look away and pick up my bag. “You’re going? Leaving me—us—like this?”

  “I have to. I need to go to the hospital.” Liar.

  “Not right this minute you don’t. Look, Noah, I know you’re upset but you can’t do this. I can’t let you.” Her strength was breathtaking.

  I stood in the doorway and delivered my parting line. “You don’t have a choice.” But she hadn’t read the script and moved over to me.

  “I do. There’s always a choice. And I’m not going to let you treat me this way. I love you, but you are not going to make me your punchbag.”

  “What the…?” I shouted, furious at the insinuation. “I’ve never laid a hand on you. Well, never one you haven’t wanted. I’ve never hurt you.”

  “So what are you doing now? Because this is fucking slaying me, Noah. Your words hurt me as much as any of those tossers ever hurt my mum.” With her hands on her hips, she made me face the truth. “But this pain will last longer than any bruise.” Her agony swallowed my anger and I felt my own tears fall.

  “I just can’t do this, Grace. I can’t be the hero you need. And if I can’t live up to your expectations, is that your fault or mine?” I walked towards the front door. “Sometimes there isn’t a happy ever after.”

  She stood blocking my exit. “I know you’re hurting. I know you don’t really mean what you’re saying. But I can’t let myself be someone who accepts this. I’m not my mum and, when you’re you, you wouldn’t want me to be.” When she reached out for my hand, I kept it at my side, unable to let myself feel the warmth of her skin. With a nod, she read my mind. I’m sorry.

  “When things start to feel better, when there is enough light in your world for you to see what is in front of you, come to me. Please. Give my love to Max.” She walked back into the kitchen, leaving me with the final choice about leaving or staying.

  I left.

  “IS THE OFFER OF your sofa still open?” I knew Lauren would be able to tell exactly what had happened from my question and my tear-filled voice.

  “Of course, babe. I’m at Mack’s flat but can be there in under an hour. Do you want me to pick you up?”

  “No. I don’t want to have to come back for my scooter.” Once my decision had been made, I had to stick to it.

  “I get it. But you’re not going to be able to carry everything. I’ll come via there and pick up your stuff. Now stop crying and get packing.”

  I smiled at her bossiness and hung up.

  Packing didn’t take long as I didn’t want to take anything Noah had bought me, so I was ready when Lauren pulled onto the drive. I took one last look at Max’s chair, closed the front door behind me and posted my keys through the letterbox.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Lauren asked once we had carried my things into her flat and sat nursing mugs of tea. Who else could I talk to?

  I told her about the trip to London and what had happened to Max. I even shared the fact that I had slept with Noah, despite knowing it was for all the wrong reasons. She let me speak without interruption, but her face told me she had opinions to share.

  “So here I am, no better off than I was when they took Mum away.”

  “Don’t play the victim, Grace. You’re better than that.” I was surprised by her lack of sympathy. “I’m not going to tell you anything other than the truth as I see it, whether that’s what you want to hear or not. Noah has been great for you. I’ve seen how much confidence you’ve developed since you’ve been with him. You’ve grown.” Deep down, I knew she was right. “But your argument with him today isn’t the end. It’s emotion talking. Of course his mind is all over the place with everything he’s having to deal with. Maybe you should have just let him go, rather than pushing him. Who knows? But if you let this be the end of everything between you, it will be your fault, not his.”

  “But he blames me for what happened. He hurt me so much, Lauren.”

  Her face remained impassive. “Love hurts. Sometimes too much. But that doesn’t mean you should run away from it. For every moment of pain, there are more filled with joy. For every time he said something that hurt you, he said more things that made you happy. Love isn’t neat and tidy, Grace. It’s messy and funny and confusing. It’s what makes us human.” I knew she was right, but I couldn’t get past the ache in my chest from the way Noah had spoken to me earlier. “Text him. Don’t let it end like this.”

  “I just can’t,” I whispered.

  “Okay. I can’t say I agree with it, but I get it. Let’s get your shit unpacked, then.” She opened the door to her small bedroom. “I’m pretty much living at Mack’s so you can stay as long as you need. You might as well have the bed too.” After emptying some drawers and making space in the wardrobe, she sat on the bed and watched me put my things away. “Are you going to be okay living by yourself?”

  “I’ll be fine. If you knew some of the potheads and weirdos
I’ve slept under the same roof as, you wouldn’t worry,” I laughed. “And anyway, it will be good to get some independence and just focus on me.”

  Lauren hugged me. “I’m proud of you, girl. You’ve got my number if you need me but, if it’s more urgent, old Mrs Jones next door has the landlord’s details. I’ll let her know you’re staying for a while. She’s nosy but her heart’s in the right place.”

  “Thank you, Lauren. For everything.”

  When she left, I took a look around the small flat that had become my new home, speculating as to how long that would be the case. I walked to the corner shop and picked up a few essentials so I wouldn’t go hungry but couldn’t face the idea of cooking for one.

  Me: I’ve moved in to Lauren’s. Fancy coming round for a takeaway? xx

  Josh: Deffo. What time?

  Me: Whenever suits. The 58 bus will drop you over the road. Text me to let you in.

  Josh. Great. x

  The kiss at the end of Josh’s text was telling. We had gotten out of the habit of texting each other every day as each of us was drawn into our separate lives. His hug when I opened the door showed me that he had missed me as much as I had him, if not more.

  “I’m sure you’ve grown!” I laughed when he pulled away.

  “Yeah, I’m all man now,” he joked, flexing his scrawny arm to show me his non-existent muscles. Where had my insecure little brother gone? Maybe this time away from our old lives had done him some good.

  “Come on, Superman. Indian or Chinese?”

  Over dinner we chatted about his holiday, returning to school and life with the Jacksons. He didn’t mention Noah or ask why I was living in Lauren’s flat. He didn’t ask about Mum, but I knew I needed to bring him up to date.

  “I spoke to Mum last week.”

  “How is she?” There was no sign of emotion in his face or voice.

  “It’s been tough, but she’s going to plead not guilty, and her lawyer feels more positive.” As grown up as he had become, my gut instinct was still to defend him from unnecessary pain.