Splinters

by M R Field

  “Petal.”

  My chest deflates. I wish I hadn’t answered the phone.

  “Why are you calling me?” I snap. The girls both turn their heads at my terse tone. Concern lines their brows as they stare at me. I mouth Jerry, and their stares become nuclear. I quickly move my other hand from my ear to indicate that I’m fine.

  “I’ve been trying to contact you for months. You’ve been rude and ignored my messages.”

  Once, a long time ago, his crisp accent used to make me feel warm. Now? Now it’s just jagged edges of a grater scratching against my ears.

  “I believe I said all I needed to in London. There’s nothing more to—”

  “Of course there is. You’re my girlfriend, Hazel. What happened was a lapse in judgement. A good girlfriend gets over it and forgets.”

  My blood boils as I clutch my phone in my hand. The green pedestrian signal begins to beep and I march furiously towards the other side. My teeth grind with each step. “Not going to happen. We are over. Never going to be together again. I suggest you cease calling me, as I’m not interested.”

  He chuckles, and my skin crawls in disgust. “Your mother disagrees and now your father seems to believe what we had was special, and is worth remembering.”

  “Say what?” I freeze on the sidewalk, narrowly missing being run into by pedestrians.

  “I spoke to your father the other day and he agreed that we should ge—”

  “You did WHAT?” I screech. I don’t wait for him to continue. “You need to stop calling my family. We are over. Never going to happen. I am with someone new now, who is who I should have been with, and instead I was with you!”

  “Petal.” His voice hardens. “That club owner knows nothing about what you are. You will see soon enough how much—”

  I pull the phone from my ear and hang up on him, seething at the seams.

  “What’s the dick doing now?” Trinity asks, her hand on her hip, studying my face.

  “He’s calling both my mum and my dad.” I fume.

  “That icky fucker,” Trice shrieks, her eyes laced with fury.

  “I only told my sister Chantal a while back about Robbie, but that’s it. She must’ve told my parents. Stupid Jerry, found a way in to try to get to me. It won’t work.” I’m ready to explode.

  “Robbie is going to rip his fucking head off.” Trice seethes.

  “Oh, I hope so.” Trin nods, her lips drawn in a thin line.

  “I’ll tell him about it at the club later. He is going to lose his mind.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Trice asks, grabbing my elbow and moving me to walk towards the ticket counters. We wave our passes through and walk across to the platform to catch the train back out.

  “Call my dad, tell him to stop this rubbish. That’s if he’ll listen.”

  “And, if he doesn’t?” Trin prods, lining her lips with gloss.

  “I refuse to let him ruin what I have with Robbie. He’s not the boss of me. It’s not like he knows me anyway. Maybe I can explain about Jerry and he might see reason.”

  Our train arrives and we step onto it, finding seats towards the middle. The fun-loving vibe we had started the day with has turned to lead pellets under my feet. I can’t believe that even after leaving my family for a few years they have now taken it upon themselves to dictate my life again. Especially as neither of my parents could stand each other. What was this now? A united front to get their wayward daughter to settle with the womanising ex? Something wasn’t adding up, and it began to fester in my thoughts, scenarios tumbling together one after another in a splintered segue.

  “It just doesn’t make any sense,” I mutter, staring out the window as the blur of monuments pass us by. “Why does my family want us together so badly?”

  “It’s dodgy as,” Trice mutters, biting the edge of her thumb. “He seems unhinged.”

  “Total fucking moron.” Trin adds, putting her feet on the seat in front of her. “Complete whack job.”

  “He gets like this when he doesn’t get his way,” I admit, my face feeling the heat of embarrassment. “It’s like he’s a petulant child. He’d behave like this if I wouldn’t do things with him or …” I cringe, swallowing bile that has gathered at the back of my throat. “To him.”

  “Oh my God.” Trice gasps. Leaning forward, she lowers her voice as both Trin and I lean in also. “He never forced you to … you know.”

  I cringe and close my eyes for a moment. “Once he almost tried, but I pushed him back.” Shuddering at the memory, I add, “He claimed that he was stiff and needed to loosen up. He didn’t get very far, as I kneed him in the balls. I had been meaning to leave him and then I caught him out shortly after.”

  “What a pig,” Trin snaps.

  “He’s a manipulator.” I frown. “I should know. I was with him for almost three years and we were ‘friends’ before that. I should’ve picked up on it after ten minutes. So stupid. I was lonely and he was there.”

  “We all have those moments,” Trin reasons, grabbing my hand. “It’s how we handle ourselves afterwards that matters.”

  The train continues to rock slightly side to side as we trek back home. A wave of apprehension at the thought of calling my father sends shivers down my spine. I have a bad feeling and I am about to find out why he and my mother want this relationship so badly.

  I storm into the back of the Emerald Vixen, wiping furiously at the tears that cascade down my face. My runny nose sniffs as I fumble in my bag for a tissue. I feel the jagged interface of my smashed phone that I threw down onto the ground after I ended that caustic phone call. My fingers manoeuvre around until the crinkle of the half-open packet is felt, and I continue sniffing in short spurts, eager to bring the tissue to my dripping nose. My eyes sting, and I no longer care what I look like. My hand slaps at my nose aggressively as I plonk down on the seat, chucking my bag to the floor. I need to calm down and right now, these keys are all I can see. I lift my hands to the keys and begin to play God knows what … I barely can even tell myself.

  My fingers strum stiffly as the chords begin to shape into my mind. My father’s savage voice tears through me like a jagged knife, leaving me to bleed it out in a torrent of angry tears. A shake begins to move my fingers slightly, but I ignore it. Instead, I close my eyes and take in a deep frazzled breath, willing my erratic heart to calm down.

  Loneliness.

  Like a darkened corridor.

  Like an empty spiral staircase.

  It continues to follow me down.

  Down.

  Until I have nothing left.

  My head whirls as my fingers move across the keys, the sorrow surrounding me like a blanket, suffocating me. My family. My irrational, belligerent family, has done it again and genetically speaking, if I didn’t have my mother’s hair and eyes, I would have thought there was a switch-up in the hospital. If only there had been, so this despondency would at least have a reason.

  My fingers churn the keys, rhythmically following into the melancholic lyrics of, “Mad World” that initially descend from my lips in a worn-out whisper, pouring out their betrayal, and before I can stop it, my voice returns to full capacity and I begin to sing, giving the song the meaning it deserves. My eyes sting as my father’s voice haunts my ears.

  “Cannot believe you have lowered yourself to a common whore on stage, one step away from a stripper … and with an immigrant’s son. I thought it was just a passing phase. Don’t think your sisters haven’t filled me in.”

  “Jerry will give you the world. What can he offer? An unsavoury club run by a wog boy, while you expose yourself to the audience. Nothing but a common whore.”

  “Your mother and I are disgusted. You have marred this family with your poor judgement. I have customers who know about it. Customers! It’s disgraceful. You will do as I say or else.”

  “You will quit that repulsive job and reconcile with Jerry, or you can vacate that apartment I bought for you. I will strip you of y
our heritage, you stupid, foolish, girl. All this time away wasted on a pathetic hobby. Reconcile or be destitute.”

  My voice rasps as the tears cascade down my face. I continue to sing, the tears dripping and splashing against the heated skin across my legs. My shoulders hunch into the emotion, and I cry out in pain as the last notes fall from my lips and fingertips. I lean forward and fold my arms under my face and sob into the keys, not caring at the discomfort they give me while the sobs wrack my chest. How can they want me to be with someone who made me miserable? NOW they’re talking? My parents, who have hated each other for almost twenty years?

  I hide my face farther into the crease of my arm as my embarrassment begins to surround me. This weakness that I experienced daily as a child and teenager, where I obeyed them, threatens to rise again, and I whimper at the thought of it returning. I will not be like them for them. The darkness continues to swirl around me until I sense, him.

  His warm scent extinguishes the ache that is causing havoc in my chest. A strong hand reaches out and touches my shoulder, and I feel him lower his body next to mine, as he whispers in my ear.

  “Farfalla.”

  It’s all I need to hear and I raise my head quickly and turn to face him, his dark worried eyes blazing into mine, and I don’t think. I just move. I slam the lid down and launch myself into his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck. He stumbles until he moves us both to stand. He doesn’t say a thing—he just holds me. Holds me with the warmth to ease away the ice that formed around my splintered heart. Holds me as if I am worth something. Holds me until my sobs subside and my heart beats in sync with his.

  “Farfalla,” he tries again, a warm hand rubbing my back in gentle circles. “Bella, tell me what is going on. What’s happened?”

  I sniff into his neck and lean back to face him. “My father … he’s an arsehole. I broke my phone too.”

  I take a deep breath and begin to retell Robbie the conversation I had. From pacing my apartment, of hearing the censure of my father’s voice as he berated me for my choices and my distasteful career. As I ran through the repulsive venom that poured from my father’s lips, Robbie sat there motionless, absorbing every single detail. Every single hateful word that my father had said about me, and worse—about him.

  “He also told me what a worthless daughter I had become, even though that, I might say,” I add bitterly. “It’s not unlike what I’m used to. My happiness and security seem worth sacrificing to a womanising arsehole.”

  Robbie’s mouth twists as he studies my face, and brushes a loose strand behind my ear. “Your family doesn’t deserve you. They never have. Don’t worry about your phone. We’ll buy a new one tomorrow.”

  I nod as a lone tear trails down my face. “They have this uncanny knack for making me feel all alone. Every. Single. Time.”

  “Not anymore,” he says, moving his hand next to my face. “I look at you, and I see beauty, talent and ambition. You take my breath away while captivating an audience. You’re an artist. You’re not whoring yourself on stage. It is a tasteful act. Not once did I fuckin’ think otherwise.”

  He moves away from me, and I feel the loss of his warm embrace. He walks across the stage and gestures with his arm out. “Here on this stage, you inspire me. Every day you inspire me. You’re the reason I have found purpose, Hazel. Just look around you.” He waves his arm around again. “This is here because of you. For you. Nothing else has driven me to succeed more than you. To make this place worthy of you. If your parents don’t agree, well I’m afraid I’m old enough to no longer give a shit. I just want what’s best for you.”

  “What?” I swallow. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying, my emerald vixen, that a few years ago, I finally woke up. You were the one who grounded me. I’m not going to lie—the second you told me you were unhappy in the UK, I knew my plan would work.”

  “What plan?” I take a deep breath. He stands still for a moment, as though he is gearing up to tell me something, and to be honest, I’m apprehensive. There’s only so much I can take today.

  “That I would be standing in a club that I owned with the woman it’s named after.”

  My mouth gapes as I stare at the sign that hangs above the bar. The buxom figurine stares back at me, and I notice her. Her long hair, pouty lips and ample curves are all … mine.

  “Emerald Vixen is me?” I whisper.

  “Yes. Everything in here I designed for you.” He points to the figurine and continues, “Your eyes and that night you kissed me … they were all I thought about, Farfalla. Do you know how many guys I caught opening night openly staring at that sign? I almost want to take it down as they see what I have. They see all I see.”

  I look around and absorb all the finer details of the place. The warmth of the colours, the glamour touches, the shades of grey, green and red, all are what I would have chosen. I see this club that has made me happy in the past few weeks with new eyes.

  “All this? For me? Why me?” My eyes pass over the bar as warmth floods my cheeks.

  “Because I’m in love with you.”

  My head snaps in his direction. He raises his hands to help calm my stare. “I’m not expecting anything in return. I just wanted you to know. I will wait until you love me. But in the meantime, I will bust my arse to prove how much I love you.”

  “Robbie, I …”

  “Look, just don’t freak out, okay? Yes, this club seems extravagant, but it’s the one thing I had my mind set on for four years, and if you find that you can’t be here now that you know—”

  “I don’t need to catch up, Robbie,” I blurt. “I’ve loved you since I was fourteen years old. Since the first time you smiled at me.”

  “Will you miss those bright lights? The big elaborate stage? The thousand-seat theatres? I don’t want you to forget those things, Hazel. I don’t want what is between us to become a regret.”

  “I never needed the bright lights or that stage to see stars in my eyes. I just needed to look at you.”

  “Am I enough?” An incredulous stare covers his beautiful features. Features that have claimed my dreams for years. I know his face as if it’s my own.

  “Absolutely.”

  “So, you’re not mad I coerced you into coming back?” He gestures with his thumb to the bar. “For this?”

  “Nope. Never.” My chest tightens as his beautiful smile lights up his entire face. I am stunned for a moment, breathless under the intensity of his stare and that smile. My heart remembers to continue beating and I sigh, a wave of ease teasing my skin as the vibe in the room changes.

  “Get over here,” he commands.

  “Thinking out loud.”

  Ed Sheeran

  ROBBIE

  “Huh?” Her eyebrows squish together in confusion.

  “Hazel, you don’t tell a man that you love him standing all the way over there.”

  “But you’re the one who moved away, so you’re standing far away from me,” she replies. Her cheeks flush with a slight blush, and my pants tighten. She stares back at me, and I smile while beginning to move closer to her, watching her eyes widen with anticipation. Grabbing her shoulder, I gently pull her closer to me.

  “Now,” I say, as I trace my finger down her cheek. “Let’s have that conversation again.”

  “Okay,” she breathes, her chest rising with each breath as she stares into my eyes.

  “Hazel,” I begin.

  “I love you,” she says, a radiant smile breaking across her blush-stained cheeks. The warmth of her words fill my chest and all I can think is it’s about fuckin’ time. I chuckle as I lean forward. “You just couldn’t help yours—”

  “Your turn,” she orders, her bottom lip rolling between her teeth as she steps from her heel to her toe, both feet leaning forward and back.

  I place a hand on either side of her face and her fidgeting stops. The emerald eyes shine with love as I move closer to her still. “Hazel, I am so in love with you that that’s al
l I know. I love you, Farfalla. I love you; I love only you.”

  She squeals and it surprises me, as she pushes her hands up and to my own, pushing them aside. She jumps up into my arms, her legs squeezing around my hips. The movement causes me to lose my footing and I step back, only for her to press against me and wrap her arms tightly around my neck. The warmth of her forehead touches mine and I sigh in relief as we stand there, pressed together in an embrace that I will one day tell our grandkids about.

  “You keep jumping me.” I laugh.

  “Robbie, when did you get to be such a romantic?” She sighs against my forehead. “Are you reading some Nicholas Sparks novels or something?”

  “Fuck no, woman. I only watched The Notebook once, as I was home and Mamma made me spend time with her and Nonna by watching it. Never the fuck again.” We laugh as she kisses my forehead.

  “Sure, sure,” she teases. “I bet you cried like a baby.”

  I squeeze her hips between my hands and shift her slightly so I can tap her on the arse. My hand lingers on the cotton of her skirt as I play with the end seam. Her breath hitches as I tuck my finger under the thin material, her soft skin beckoning for my touch. My cock throbs and I want to be inside her so badly. I look over to the piano, and an idea strikes me.

  “So, my love.” I kiss her lips softly. “I don’t know about you, but right now I want to head over to that piano, lay you across it, and make you scream my name so loudly that the walls vibrate. Thoughts?”

  “Are the cameras off and doors locked?”

  “I locked them the second I came out from my office and saw you were upset, my love, and I switched off the cameras. Didn’t want any pricks seeing you cry.”

  Her eyes soften as a gentle smile touches her beautiful face. “Well, no thoughts, Robbie. Just action.” She bites my bottom lip and her eyes twinkle mischievously at me. “The piano is one of the many surfaces we need to test for its durability.”

  “I’m just the right guy for the job.” I wink, hoisting her higher on my hips. I’m so turned on that I won’t be able to test that fucking piano if she touches my dick right now. “My desk looks strong,” I hiss, her hips shifting down despite my efforts to keep them off me.