“Thanks,” I mumble.
“Want some help putting these away?” he asks politely.
I really want him to leave, but I know my short arse can’t reach up to put it all away.
“Please.” I carefully put the bag down so it doesn’t reveal what’s inside, then I start passing the clothes to Tristan who neatly stacks them, when were done we end up gazing at one another again.
“I’ll leave you to it,” he says a look of concern etched across his face. Tristan leans down and without touching me at all, he softly presses his lips against mine.
I close my eyes surrendering to the sensation, when I open them he is gone. I didn’t even hear any of the stairs creak.
Nervously, I pick up the bag and sit on the edge of the bed - Well here goes nothing!
Pulling my jeans off, I pull the skirt out of the bag. Closing my eyes for a second, I hug it to me and say a little prayer that I won’t freak out. Standing up, I undo the zip and step my first foot in, then the second. Slowly and hesitantly I pull the skirt up and around my waist, then carefully pull the zip up.
Taking a deep breath I prepare for the panic attack, for the shaking, for the palpitating heart, but a couple of minutes in and my breathing is normal, my heartbeat is slow, and I’m not having hot or cold flushes.
I fall back onto the edge of the bed and choke back tears of relief, saying a silent prayer of gratitude to Cindy and George, if it wasn’t for them – then an image flashes in my mind’s eye!
No! – My five year old self is sat on that man’s lap.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push the image away and yank the skirt off. Ok, Ok so it’s going to need more work but that’s never happened before, I’ve never been able to put a dress or skirt on without my body going into freefall and it didn’t, I just got the mental image!
Good, this is good – I can tell George and Cindy about it all.
Putting the skirt back in the bag and hiding it under my bed, I pull my jeans back on and skip down the stairs. Tristan is sitting on the sofa with his laptop on his legs, I can see he’s concentrating hard, so I stand staring at him for a moment. What the hell have I done to deserve this man?
Suddenly, he looks up and smiles warmly at me. “Hey,” Tristan shuts his laptop and pats the sofa next to him.I grin like an idiot and walk over to him.“I’m missing my kisses,” he says, pulling me onto his lap.
He kisses me hard, scattering all thoughts. I chuckle lightly at his ardour.
“What?” He smiles deeply at me.
“Nothing,” I say shaking my head.
“So do you want to go through more books?” he asks sweetly.
I don’t think I do, we have already seen so much furniture and have so many items ready to be delivered on Saturday, that the very thought of it is boring me to death. Tristan has given me his word he will be back Friday night, I’m missing him already.
“I have a better idea,” I say and pull his lips to mine…
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
IT’S FRIDAY AFTERNOON AND I’M AT WORK. I cannot stop jigging up and down in my seat. I’m so excited to see Tristan again, but also very nervous. I’ve had lots of time to think while he’s been away. I’ve tried to rationalise my feelings for him, but the harder I try, the more I keep coming to the conclusion that I am, for all intense and purposes, deeply and irrevocably in love with him – which scares me to death – I don’t feel like I’m ready for this, it’s just all happened so fast.
Yet, when he left on Wednesday morning, I felt like the hole that has always been there in my chest had been torn wide open again, and I just wanted him back in my arms to fill it back up. George told me that might happen; that it is one of the consequences of falling in love – Me, in love? – It’s still quite hard to believe.
I’ve tried to feel excited about it, I mean most people do when they fall in love, but instead I have felt lost, no compass, no bearing, like I’m a tiny blip in the ocean, never to be found again. Maybe that’s because I have missed him so much, I feel like he’s been gone for three months, not three days.
It actually hurts to think about him, and when I do the ache becomes more prominent, so I’ve been trying and failing badly not to picture him, or feel his arms around me, or his gorgeous full lips kissing mine.
I knew the moment I watched him walk out of my studio – after kissing me for an eternity – that I wanted him forever. But the more I think about that, the more I feel myself withdrawing, it feels safer like that, I can’t get hurt again. But being with Tristan has also made me realise what I’ve been missing, how good love can really feel.
I have pictured his face a thousand times as I try to tell him goodbye, and every time I do, it literally cripples me.
I have been back at work since Wednesday. Against Joyce’s wishes I caked my face in makeup so you couldn’t see the bruising, marched into work and demanded she let me come back. I couldn’t stay at my studio, it reminds me of Tristan too much. His smell is everywhere, and I keep picturing him sitting on my sofa, smiling his sexy smile at me. And every time I try to do something to take my mind off him, like reading or watching a movie, I get fidgety and restless. It’s driving me crazy, literally.
I close my eyes and remember back to Wednesday night, I thought it was going to be the hardest night of my existence – turns out it wasn’t. Tristan called me and we spent hours on the phone. I eventually fell asleep to him humming Some Enchanted Evening to me – again. I’m never going to be able to listen to that tune without thinking of him, but maybe that was his plan?
My phone rings pulling me from my musing. I answer it in a daze, it’s the call Joyce was expecting so I pass it through to her.
Picking up my handbag, I pull out the set of keys Tristan gave me and start fiddling with them, I’m so restless. When I agreed to take delivery of his bed yesterday, I didn’t expect to feel so odd when I went to the house. It took them ages to get the king-size bed up the two flights of stairs, which gave me too much thinking time.
I wondered around the house in a daze, checked out the pool and cinema room, which I hadn’t seen, and then drifted back upstairs. I walked past the kitchen, and straight out onto the rear terrace. I was so lost in my own thoughts that the delivery guy had to touch my arm to get my attention; that did not go down well, I almost had a meltdown.
When they had left, I did what I vowed to myself I wouldn’t do and I went upstairs. As I reached the master bedroom, I stared down at the big, empty bed and tried to imagine myself living there with Tristan, waking up with him, making love to him – My throat tightened at the very thought of it, and I questioned it again – Is it because I was raped that I’m feeling like this? Or is it fear of commitment, of being loved and giving love?
I stood there for ages trying to work it out, until I realised I wasn’t going to get the answer, not without George, so tonight I have to be honest with him, whether I like it or not.
When I got home last night, I ordered a king-size quilt and covers from Amazon, which turned up today at work, and it’s huge. It normally takes me half an hour to get to George’s from work, but with this lot to carry, and the heat, I’m definitely going to get a taxi.
I look up at my screen, click on the images of Tristan and stare blankly at him – What is it about you that has me in knots? I shake my head at myself and try to get back to the now, to what’s going on in my life other than Tristan.
Still no word from Rob or Carlos, and Gladys and Debs haven’t given me any new information, on the upside, I tried the skirt on again last night. I wanted to leave it a couple of days to see if it made any difference, and it didn’t – which I was pleased about. I’m really looking forward to next Tuesday, and I’m excited to see how far we can take this Hypnotherapy.
Maybe it will heal me? I hope so, I want to feel pretty, feminine, sexy – I don’t want to feel like a freak anymore.
I look up at the clock on the wall again, only another minute has passed.
&
nbsp; My stomach fills with butterflies again and I fight against the grin that involuntarily spreads across my face. Honestly, one minute I’m smiling like a fool, the next I’m feeling lost, sombre and empty – I wish Tristan would hurry back. I need to know if this is what missing someone is like, or if I’m feeling like this because I’m freaking out?
I want Tristan, I want to bed him, I want to be as close to him as two people can get, but the very thought of it keeps sending me into a nervous frenzy.
I sigh heavily. Concentrate Coral!
Ok, I’m back to my routine of swimming in the morning, and I had my session last night with Will, I think he finally believed me about the bruising, because I kept getting flashbacks of Tristan and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off my face.
When Will asked for the fourth time why I was so happy, I relented and told him all about meeting Tristan, he seemed genuinely pleased for me…
THE CLOCK ON THE WALL FINALLY chimes four o’clock. I shove Tristan’s keys back in my bag, dash out of my seat, and knock on Joyce’s door.
“Come.” I fling the door open.
“Need anything before I go?” I ask in a rush.
“No but…going somewhere?” Joyce smiles coyly at me.
“I...um, I have a session tonight.” I tell her not wanting to get into talking about Tristan.
“Oh,” Joyce’s face falls.
I roll my eyes and smile at her, I can’t help myself.“Then I’m seeing Tristan,” I whisper.
Joyce beams with pride and jumps up out of her seat. “Darling girl,” she chokes and hugs me hard. I hug her back. “It gives me such great pleasure to see you so happy...” Joyce breaks off choking back the tears. “Reminds me of how giddy I used to feel when I had a date with John, you know before we married. They are precious times, make the most of it,” she says rubbing my arm.
I feel mortified that I’ve been walking around feeling so happy whilst Joyce has been in hell, I frown hard at my own behaviour.
“I’m sorry Joyce, that’s really insensitive of me,” I murmur.
“Nonsense.” She smiles, dabbing her tears with her handkerchief. “It gives me joy to see you so happy, and he’s a lovely chap Coral, you’ve done really well there,” she says almost proudly.
“I don’t think I really did anything,” I answer feeling shy.
Joyce rolls her eyes at me. “Always so modest.”I snort and stare at the floor.“Are you alright darling?”
I make myself smile. “Yes, of course.”
Joyce frowns at me. “Want to talk about it?”I shake my head at her.“You’ve been very up and down since Tristan left,” she muses. Damn it! I thought I was hiding it.
“Sorry Joyce.” I mumble.
“No need, take a seat.” She points to the deep green leather sofa. Reluctantly I walk over and sit down with her. “Now then, let’s get this show on the road.”
I frown at her. “S…sorry?” I stutter.
“Missing him?” I scowl at my twisted hands. “Alright, going too fast?” My eyes dart up to meet hers. “I see, Coral, if that’s how you feel, you need to tell him this,” she says. “Tristan is older than you and I know he’s ready to settle down, evidently you’re not. So the two of you need to sit down and talk it through.” I nod back at her.
“I have to say Coral, I am surprised. You’ve met a handsome, eligible man, who’s fallen deeply in love with you, yet you’re walking around as though you don’t know what to do with yourself?”
How does she know this?
“I can tell dear,” she says, patting my hand. “Coral, you probably don’t know this, but when John and I first met, we fell madly in love. My parents said it wouldn’t last because we fell so hard, so quickly, but we did last. I want you to know this so you don’t feel so afraid of it working out so quickly.”
“I just…” I stop, not knowing what to say.
“Coral, do you think the two of you have a chance at working this out?” Shit!
“I…I’m not sure.” I whisper, staring at my hands.
“Do you love him?”
“Yes…but…” I break off again, I can't even begin to tell Joyce how I really feel; we’ll be here all night.
“He’s a steady, hardworking man, a good man. You could do a lot worse,” she scoffs.
“I know,” I softly say.
“Then why are you so reluctant?” she adds in a softer tone.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I just am.”
“Well, I can't really push you in one direction or the other, I’m sure you know what you’re doing,” she adds.
“Thanks Joyce.” I know she cares, truly I do, but she hasn’t got a frigging clue.
“Well, go on then, off you go,” she says ushering me out of her office with her hand.
“Night Joyce.” I want to say have a nice weekend, but I don’t think she will, not for a long time.
“Goodnight dear,” she smiles tentatively at me.
As I walk out of her office, I think back on our conversation. Part of me knows she’s right, that most women would be jumping for joy at meeting such a great guy, a smart, kind, eligible bachelor, but I’m not like other women, god knows she should know that!
As I walk over to my desk and start to close my computer down, I think back to her words.
“He’s a good man, you could do a lot worse”
“He’s older than you, he’s ready to settle down”
“He’s deeply in love with you”
Oh Tristan!
Suddenly, the pain of losing him grips me, and I don’t mean us ending, I mean him dying; like John did. What if I take the risk and that happens to me? What if Tristan suddenly dies? What the hell am I meant to do? It’s too unbearable to even think about – I grip my stomach to stop it from turning over, and that’s when I make the decision. I have to tell him tonight, I have to. I can't hold it back any longer, it’s time for some truths.
Ordering a taxi, I pick up my handbag, my overnight bag, the quilt and the bedcovers and struggle down the hallway…
AS I REACH GEORGE’S HOUSE, I take a deep steadying breath and knock on the door.
Phil answers it, as usual.“Hi Coral,” he beams, he’s got the phone in his hand. “No, he didn’t,” he gasps. He’s such a gossip!
“Hey Phil,” I drag my feet into the hallway and plonk the quilt, bedcovers and my bags on the floor.
“He won't be long, make yourself comfortable,” Phil says, covering the handset.
“Ok.” I walk through the hallway, past the open plan kitchen-dining area, turn left and walk into George’s study. The room is empty, and for a fleeting second I think about opening up his notepad to see what he’s written about me.
“And how are we this evening?” George says as he enters the room, making me jump – again!
“I’ll be fine once I’ve got over the heart attack.” I say with sarcasm, and sit on the sofa.
George chuckles at me, sits in his chair, takes out his notepad and waits patiently for me to start.
“How do people do it?” I muse.
“Do what?” George asks looking up over his specs.
“Get over the person they love that has died. Joyce seems as though she’s coping so well, but I don’t see how...if I lost Tristan, I don’t think I’d cope at all...” I say shaking my head.
“Time is a healer,” George tells me.
“That maybe so George but what about day to day stuff, just getting up’ –“Coral,” George holds his finger up to me, I stop talking.“Remember we have talked about this, worrying about future events that may or may not happen is a complete waste of time. Besides, for all you know you both could lead a very happy, healthy long life together. Try to concentrate on that.”
I relax a little, my shoulders coming down from my ears.
“Better?” He asks.
“Yeah,” I take a deep breath.
“Good, now several things to go through tonight. Firstly
I’d like to know if you found any difference in yourself this week. Do you think the Hypnotherapy has helped?”
I nod and smile.
“How?” He asks taking notes again.
“Well...when I got home I tried on a skirt and I didn’t freak out!” I beam.
“Really? That’s interesting…So, no palpitations, heavy breathing, hot or cold flushes?” I shake my head to each question. “That’s wonderful,” George beams.
“There was one thing though, I may not have got any of the emotions that go with it, but I got an image.” I say darkly.
“Go on.” George urges.
“Him,” I whisper. George looks confused - How is he not getting this?“The guy....you know, the first time I was abused, him,” I say in a rush.
George takes more notes. “Has that happened before?” he asks.
“No, I just used to get the feeling before,” I say twiddling my fingers in my lap.
“This could be a long process Coral, it’s not an overnight cure.”
“I know,” I answer. “George I’m doing what you tell me to do, I’m really pleased so far and I’m really eager to keep going.”
“Good.” George closes his pad and crosses his legs. “Have you noticed anything else, any other subtle changes?”
I narrow my eyes at him.“Why, what else did she do? I thought we were just working on the dresses?” I say in a panic.
“We did, but having Hypnotherapy can help in other areas too Coral, without it being a conscious effort.” He softly says.
“Oh! Well...I’m less anxious I guess, but I’m not sure if that’s Hypnotherapy or....” I break off. I don’t really want George to know how bad I’ve got it for Tristan, he’s all I can think about.
“Or Tristan?” he smiles.
I shake my head and laugh.
“It’s good to see you smiling Coral.” George says grinning widely.
Darkest Fears Trilogy: Fallen For Him / Freed By Him / Forever With Him Page 40