The Promise

by Natalie Clarke

  “Good boy, go take them to Auntie Hayley in the kitchen and put them in the trash.”

  “Okay, mommy!” He runs past me and out into the hallway towards the kitchen.

  Kyle stands up and brushes past me, dropping a kiss on my temple as he passes, leaving Zach and I alone.

  Zach stands, thrusting his hands into his pockets, leaning against the dining table. “Are we okay?”

  “I don’t know, are we?”

  “Gwen this is ridiculous, this awkwardness between us. We shouldn’t let what happened affect us, we’re friends aren’t we?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So… let’s go out and do something. Let’s do friend stuff.”

  “Friend stuff? And what does that entail, having tea parties and braiding each other’s hair?” I joke.

  He laughs. “Not really what I had in mind but… how about we just hang out some time?”

  “Yeah sure, sounds good.”

  Chapter 21

  Zach

  “So what do we do?” I ask, tapping my fingers restlessly on the desk as Kyle sits back in the chair casually opposite me, taking a swig of his drink.

  We're sat in his office at his house. Gwen and Lucas left not long ago, and Hayley retired to bed early after putting Sara to bed.

  “I have a PI looking into him, if there’s dirt we'll find it. There has to be, nobody is that clean,” Kyle says.

  “Okay, good. I don’t want that bastard anywhere near her or Lucas again.”

  “You and me both, man,” he agrees. He purses his lips, eying me dubiously. “What’s going on between you two, anyway?”

  “What do you mean?” He cocks his head, seeing right through me. I run a hand through my hair and sigh heavily. “We fucked, a year ago. Before she even met that pencil-dick, Josh. We agreed to forget about it, but... even in Boston I couldn’t escape her.”

  “Is that why you left? To get away from her?”

  “Partly.” I nod. “But it didn’t work. I can’t seem to stay away from her, and after what happened with Josh, I…”

  “Stop fighting it, take it from someone who knows. I tried so hard to fight my feelings for Hayley, scared that I’d fuck everything up, afraid to let her see me, my past… but I stopped fighting it. Loving her is easy, it is as easy or as hard as you want it to be, so stop fighting it, let it happen.”

  “I’m not sure I can give her what she needs. Carly really fucked me over, I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

  “Gwen’s not like that, man. When she loves, she loves hard, and the way she looks at you… you care about her don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Look, it’s your business what you two do or don’t do, but just keep what I said in mind. Oh and if you hurt her, I’ll kill you,” he warns, a hint of amusement in his voice. “But I’m glad she has someone else to look out for her.”

  “Always. We’re actually gonna hang out, as friends, do friend stuff.”

  “Friend stuff, okay. Well, we’ll see how that works out for you. But ask yourself this, can you live with just being her friend?” He drains the contents of his glass and rises from his chair before leaving the room.

  Friend stuff. What the fuck does that even mean? Why did I even say that?

  Gwen and I can never be just friends, and deep down, I don’t want to be, but I’m not sure I can offer her more either. Gwen is either everything or nothing to me, there is no in between, and I can’t imagine not having her in my life.

  What the fuck am I gonna do?

  Chapter 22

  Gwen

  I’ve spent the past few days in a repeating cycle of working at the bar every night and planning Patrick and Susanne’s wedding, oh, and watching Toy Story of course. I’m basically running on thirty percent sleep and seventy percent caffeine. As soon as I got home from dinner and Kyle and Hayley’s house, I contacted them to set up a meeting. Since our last meeting, I’ve been wracking my brains trying to figure out where I know Patrick from, but I come up with nothing every time.

  Maybe he just has one of those faces that feel familiar?

  There’s a knock at the door and I go to answer it. It’s Patrick and Susanne.

  “Hi, come on in.” I stand back out of the way to let them pass.

  After I’ve made them some coffee, I return to find Susanne sat on the couch while Patrick is stood by the sideboard, staring at the group of photos of when I was little. When he hears me re-enter the room, he places one of the photos he was holding down and sits beside his fiancée.

  “So, I have good news and bad news. I contacted the venues I originally had in mind and they all come in way over budget. I tried talking them down, but they won’t budge on price. However, my best friend’s husband owns The Royal Hotel in the city, and he has offered it to you as a possible venue. I have photos here,” I hand them a handful of photos of the interior of the hotel and casino, including a few of Hayley and Kyle’s wedding. “I also have a few mood boards of colour and décor ideas,” I hand these over too.

  They look through the photos together.

  “These are beautiful, Gwen. I love the lilac colour scheme, that’s actually one of the colours we discussed originally,” Susanne says.

  “So your friend’s husband offered us the hotel if we wanted to have it there?” Patrick asks.

  “Yes, he and my friend Hayley actually had their own wedding there and it was stunning. He said that money is no problem, he is prepared to hire it out to you within your budget. I suppose it’s handy to have friends in high places, right?”

  Patrick chuckles. “I suppose it is.” He turns to Susanne, “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s perfect.” She smiles.

  We discuss their wedding for a little under an hour, confirming the date and finalising a few more of the details.

  Susanne steps out of the room to use the bathroom leaving Patrick and I alone.

  “I hope you don’t mind me looking at your photos earlier on,” he says.

  “Oh, no of course not.”

  He stands up and walks over to them. He touches one of the photos tentatively, a soft smile touches his lips. “You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman, just like I knew you would.”

  His remark sends a shiver down my spine. “Sorry, I… don’t understand. Do I know you?”

  He turns to face me, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You won’t remember me, you were only five when I last saw you.”

  My head begins to pound in my chest. “Who are you?”

  “I’m your dad, Gwen.”

  All of the air is sucked out of the room as I stare at him, unsure of what to say, my mind racing a mile a minute trying to process what I just heard.

  What the hell is going on?

  How can he be my dad? My dad’s dead, isn’t he?

  My head is spinning. A million and one questions swimming around in my mind.

  I shake my head. “No. I don’t believe you. You can’t be my dad, my dad’s dead.”

  “Is that what my mother told you?”

  “Why would she lie?”

  “Tell me this, if I wasn’t your dad, how would I know that you have a small birthmark on the nape of your neck in the shape of a heart? How would I know that you had a little white teddy bear called Snowy that you’d carry everywhere with you and you’d cry when anyone tried to take him away from you? How would I know, that after your mother left us, you cried yourself to sleep every single night, calling out for her in your sleep?”

  “Stop. Just stop!” I bury my face in my hands as a sob rips free. I can’t listen to anymore.

  “Patrick?” Susanne says, returning to the living room, the look of confusion on her face as her eyes dart between us. “What’s going on?”

  “Gwen, please,” Patrick begs.

  “Just go,” I say, avoiding meeting his eyes. “I need to think, I can’t handle this right now.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Patrick’s shoulders sag.
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  “Alright,” he says quietly. “When you’re ready to talk, however long it may take, just know that I’m here, waiting.” He moves towards the front door. “Come on, honey, let’s go,” he says to Susanne.

  “What’s happened?” she asks.

  “I’ll explain later, I promise.”

  They show themselves out, shutting the door quietly behind them, leaving me alone in my living room.

  I pull my knees up against my chest and let my face fall forward, my forehead resting on my knees and cry. I cry until I’m all cried out and the tears stop falling.

  ∞∞∞

  Tonight, I can’t sleep. Tiny snippets of memories flash through my mind, memories from when I was little. I’ve always tried to picture the man, but his face has always been a blur, but now, when I picture him, Patrick’s face fills that empty space.

  Chapter 23

  Gwen

  “You ready?” Zach asks. He’s standing just inside my door in a tight white t-shirt, washed black jeans and a loose black leather jacket, his hair tousled and displaced.

  I take a deep breath. “Yes.” I pull my jacket on and step past him as he closes the door behind us.

  Once outside we come to a stop beside a motorcycle. “Wait, where’s your car?” I ask.

  “At home. Thought I’d take you for a spin on my bike.” He must see the look of fear on my face. “You’ve never been on a bike before have you?” he asks amused.

  “Well unlike you, I don’t have a death wish.”

  He laughs. “Come on, do you really think I’d put you in danger?” He steps closer, lowering his voice, “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?”

  I nod.

  “Good. Then get your ass on my bike, Red.” He winks, before pulling out a helmet and placing it over my head, ruining my hair which took me over an hour to curl.

  “If I knew you were gonna put this thing on me, I wouldn’t have bothered styling my hair.”

  He chuckles, fastening the clasp under my chin before taking a step back, swinging his leg over the bike and putting on his own helmet. Now I know why his hair was such a beautiful mess.

  He twists his body and pats the seat behind him. “Come on.”

  I take a deep breath and climb onto the bike behind him. He grips the inside of my knees and brings them up, so my legs are pressed against the outside of his thighs, his ass brushing the apex of my thighs.

  “Keep your legs tight, okay? And put your arms around me.” I slide my arms around his middle, locking my hands together at his front, I can feel his hard, chiselled abs through his shirt.

  “You ready?” he asks over his shoulder.

  “No.”

  He laughs and starts the engine, the bike rumbling to life beneath us, the vibrations coursing through my body, the blood pumping through my veins as the adrenaline kicks in. I won’t admit it out loud, but I’m as excited as I am nervous.

  “Hold on,” he says as we begin to pull away from the curb. I tighten my hold around him as we begin to gain speed, zipping through the streets, the world around us blurring as if we’re in a time warp.

  This is exactly what I needed right now, a distraction. It’s been two days since I found out that Patrick is my father, and I still haven’t quite come to terms with it yet. I’ve thought of nothing else and it’s driving me insane. I need a time-out, and this is the perfect solution.

  Zach places his hand on my thigh, squeezing gently. “You okay?”

  “Both hands on the handlebars!” I shout back.

  I feel his body shake with laughter as he puts his hand back on the handlebars.

  ∞∞∞

  We pull up outside a bar and he switches off the engine, swinging off the bike. I do the same and begin removing my helmet and placing it on the seat. He takes off his own helmet and runs his fingers through his hair.

  Jesus, the sight of him steals my breath. I didn’t think any guy could top Charlie Hunnam in Sons of Anarchy for making a leather-clad bad boy on a bike sexy as hell, but Zach is on another level of hot.

  “A bar? You planning to get me drunk Mr Gilgunn?”

  “I would do no such thing. I'm a gentleman.”

  I fight back a smile. “Idiot.”

  “And this isn’t just any bar. Come on.” He takes my hand in his and leads me inside. The bar is small and warm, deep green lights illuminating the room, a huge Irish flag hangs on the wall behind the bar, soft music filling the space.

  “Zachary fucking Gilgunn, what the fuck are you doing here? Thought you were still in Boston.” A guy behind the bar shouts when he sees us walk in, a huge grin stretching the width of his face.

  “You wish, asshole,” Zach replies, reaching for his hand and pulling him into a loose hug over the bar top, while still clasping his other hand around mine. The man claps him on the back before releasing him.

  “Good to see you, Zach.” His eyes flick to mine and his smile softens. “Who is this beautiful lady you got here?” he asks, his eyes looking me up and down.

  “Ciaran, this is Gwen,” he introduces. “Gwen, this is Ciaran, my oldest friend.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I say. He reaches across the bar and takes my hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. He’s a couple of inches taller than me, messy dirty blonde hair that falls just shy of his eyes. He’s an attractive guy.

  “Wonderful to meet you, beautiful,” he says with a smile. “So what can I get you both?”

  “Soda water for me,” Zach says.

  Ciaran looks to me. “Um, I’ll have a gin and tonic please.”

  “Coming right up!” Ciaran spins on his heel and begins getting our drinks. A short while later, he returns, placing our drinks down in front of us. “Compliments of the house, no charge for my friend and his girl.”

  Heat rises up into my cheeks at his words. His girl.

  Zach shifts uncomfortably in his seat, picking up his drink and taking a sip.

  “So, how long have you two known each other?” I ask, eyeing them both, hoping to move the conversation along and make it a lot less awkward.

  “We went to school together, and believe me, I looked nothing like this in school.” He gestures down his body. “I was a scrawny, gap-toothed kid with John Lennon glasses and no friends. I was an easy target for bullies.” He leans against the bar. “So one day, these two kids come up to me and start pushing me around. They tore my glasses off my face and threw them to the ground, I couldn’t see shit, everything just a blur. In comes Zach, who’s like a legend in the school, two years older than me, star Quarterback on the football team, stepping between us to shield me from them and hitting them square across the face, they both went down like a sack of fucking potatoes with one punch! They got up and ran away like a couple of little bitches.” Ciaran smiles at the memory. “Zach sat me down and helped me mend my glasses. The rest was history. We became friends and no one ever bothered me again.”

  It's only now that I realise my eyes are brimming with tears. I look to Zach who’s staring down at the bar with a hint of a smile touching one corner of his mouth. “You’re a good man, Zach.”

  He turns his head and his eyes meet mine. “Don’t feel like it sometimes.”

  I reach for him, pressing my hand to his bicep. “Well, you are.”

  He clears his throat before shifting off his stool. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He gives me a small smile before he walks away.

  I watch as Zach heads towards the back of the bar, disappearing into a room in the corner.

  “So what does a man have to do to get a girl as beautiful as you?” Ciaran asks, resting his elbows on the bar, facing me.

  “Oh, no. I’m not… we’re not…” I stammer, taking a breath. “I- I don’t really know what we are.”

  “Well, beautiful, whatever you are, you must mean a lot to him. You’re the first woman he’s ever brought here, in fact, you’re the first woman I’ve seen him with in years, not since before he met that evil bitch.” />
  “What do you mean?”

  His face drops slightly, his eyes widening as if he’s said something he shouldn’t.

  “What?” I press.

  “It’s not my story to tell, beautiful. I suppose he’ll tell you in time, when he’s ready,” he says. I nod slowly. “Take care of him. He needs some good in his life.”