by Shandi Boyes
Slater lifts me to sit on the counter, his face now marred with anger. He gently pulls the tissues away from my nose and I can tell that it must still be bleeding. Not just because of the slight trickle that runs over my lips, but because of the look on his face. He pulls out two paper towels from the dispenser and wets them in the sink before carefully rubbing them under my nose. The harshness of the paper towel running across my top lip reminds me of the scratching sensation his stubble normally creates when he kisses me.
The last two weeks have been like a fairy tale. It is like the last two years never happened and our relationship instantly returned to how we were before we spent the weekend at the cabin. We have been spending every waking moment we have together, trying to make up for the time we lost the past two years. I rode with him on his bike to Los Angeles, denying Emily’s pleads to go in tour bus with the girls. We stopped to take several photos along the way, taking full advantage of the beautiful ocean views along the highway. We had lunch at Nepenthe, the views of the ocean stretched for miles.
When we arrived in Los Angeles, Slater hesitantly asked if I wanted my own room again. I may have teased him for a little bit, pretending to seriously contemplate his question, before finally agreeing to share his room. It’s been perfect, everything I could have ever wished for. But no matter how many times I try to bring up the past, he shoots me down by saying he wants to leave the past in the past.
“Did she have an elbow the size of a truck?” he questions, his eyes firmly focused on my nose, making me smile softly. Once he has all the blood cleared away, he lifts his hands and uses his thumbs to gently push on each side of my nose.
“Sorry,” he apologizes quietly when my face grimaces in pain. “It’s going to badly bruise, but I don’t think it is broken,” he advises. I nod my head. I don’t think it is broken either.
“I thought you would have learnt by now not to get in the way of fans and their idols,” he replies cheekily, although I can still hear the anger in his voice.
When I giggle softly, the anger on his face lessens and a small smile forms in its place. He gathers all the bloodied tissues and places them into the bin before helping me down from the counter top. He pulls me in close to his chest and cacoons me with his warmth. The rapid beating of his heart clearly shows how panicked he is.
“I love you Slater,” I whisper softly. I have never stopped loving him, but this is the first time I have said it since we have been back together. He stiffens, before he slowly pulls away from my embrace. I hesitantly lift my head, afraid that I may have startled him by declaring my love so early in our new relationship. The huge grin on his face is adorable that I can’t hold in my own smile.
“I love you too,” he replies quietly, instantly making me freeze. He had never said it back. Not once. Not even when I begged him to say it back the night we stayed at the cabin.
I have always worried that he thought I had left him because of the fight we had over Jenni. But that wasn’t why I left him. It wasn’t even close.
“I didn’t leave you because of Jenni,” I inform staring directly into his eyes. He attempts to lower his mouth down onto mine, trying to render me speechless. He does it every time I attempt to bring up the past. I pull away from his embrace, forcing his pained eyes to dart down to mine. I don’t want to hurt him, but it is time for him to learn the truth. I want him to know. I need him to know.
“I didn’t leave you because of Jenni,” I say again.
“I left you because of Serena,” I continue nervously, triggering his eyebrows to pull together tightly and his face to morph into confusion.....
My eyebrows pulled together tightly as my eyes roamed over the photo Slater was holding in front of me. The photo was faded and looked several years old, but the girl smiling brightly in the picture looked so similar to Jenni it was spookily eerie. I gently removed the photo from his tight grasp to scrutinize it. The girl appeared to be in her early teens, she had beautiful light blue eyes that shone just as bright as her smile. Her lips and nose were nearly identical to Jenni’s, but instead of having Jenni’s strawberry blonde hair this girl had a large scarf wrapped around her head.
“That is my sister Serena,” Slater informed quietly. “She died nearly thirteen years ago,” he continued, his voice clearly showing his pain.
“I’m so sorry,” I instantly replied, my eyes filled with tears as the guilt for the way I had behaved rapidly built. “I should have never accused you. I’m sorry Slater. I am truly sorry for the way I reacted,” I pleaded.
The past several months I had been little apprehensive about Slater’s relationship with Jenni. The text messages they sent each other never seemed more than two friends talking, but they were constant and regular, normally once or twice a day. Then when I heard him tell her that he loved her and that he would look after her, I overreacted. I was already afraid of losing him, and it created even more doubt in my mind that he didn’t belong solely to me. I had been telling him I loved him for months, but he never said it back. Just from looking at the photo he showed me, his relationship with Jenni suddenly made sense.
“Don’t apologize, you didn’t know. I should have told you about her months ago,” he replied softly. He moved close to me and ran his hand down my hair before placing a soft kiss on the top of my head. His relief that I was finally believing him was shown all over his face.
“What happened to her?” I question softly, moving to sit on the end of the bed, unable to tear my eyes away from Serena’s photo. She was incredibly beautiful, but so young, and I hated that her life was cut short so early.
Slater moved to sit next to me, his arm gently wrapped around my waist and his eyes slowly glanced over her photo. “She had ALL, Acute Lymphoblastic--”
“Leukaemia,” we said at the same time. My heart thumped dangerously. My lungs fought for air and I struggled to keep my emotions under control. Tears fell down my face so hard and fast that my hands couldn’t keep up with them.
.
“She died six days after her thirteenth birthday. That photo was taken on her birthday,” he informed quietly.
“I’m so sorry,” I said again, except that time I was not just apologizing for his loss, I was apologizing for my appalling behaviour. “Please forgive me, I’m truly sorry,” I continued. My heart ached so much it felt like someone had placed their hand into my chest and was squeezing it tight. My lungs continued to fight for air that my breathing was shallow and panicked.
Slater’s concerned eyes roamed over my face before he gently removed the photo from my grasp and placed it on the bedspread. He pulled me onto his lap and encouraged me to take in some deep breaths. One of his rough hands ran down my back, while the other wiped away my tears. I tried to form words. I tried to say something that would tell him how sorry I was for everything I had done, but no words would form. The only sounds that came out of my mouth was my gasps as I fought for air.
“I know Jenni isn’t Serena, but I can’t help but treat her like she is,” he advised, making my guilt increase even more. I had thought Slater loved me, but it hurt when I heard him say it to her. Even though he showed me every day that he cared for me, I was selfish and I wanted to hear him say it as well.
The tears continued to stream down my face and the only word I could form was sorry, so I said it to him over and over again. Approximately an hour later, my exhaustion overtook me and I fell asleep in his arms.
A few hours later, I woke up startled. Slater was leaning against the bedhead and I was still cradled in his arms. The beating of his heart and the rhythm of his breathing clearly indicated that he was asleep. My head was thumping hard from the amount of crying I had done and I was emotionally exhausted. I sat quietly, staring at his face for nearly an hour before I worked up the courage to slip out of his embrace. He murmured in his sleep and his face still looked pained.
I lent in and placed a kiss against his plump and warm lips. “Goodbye Slater,” I whispered heartbreakingly. I gathere
d my bag I had already packed and silently made my way out of the cabin. My heart broke more with every step I took.
“I was first diagnosed with ALL when I was thirteen,” I inform Slater quietly, forcing him to release a deep and harsh breath like someone has just punched him in the stomach.
His face morphs into shock and his eyes slowly flick between mine, but he remains completely still and silent. I take in a large inhale of breath, trying to encourage myself to continue telling him the truth.
“The second time was two months before we went to the cabin,” I continue quickly.
My eyes dart down to look at his chest. My heart is rapidly beating and my eyes are quickly filling with tears. He pulls his hand out of my grasp and runs it roughly over the top of his head. He paces back and forth in the small bathroom, murmuring several curse words under his breath, his fists angrily clenching and unclenching. His eyes slowly turn to face me and they are full to the brim with anger and pain.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he questions in an angry whisper, forcing my unshed tears to slide down my cheeks.
“Because I was afraid I was going to lose you,” I reply quietly, triggering his eyes to instantly narrow.
He angrily shakes his head. “I would have been there for you. I could have been there for you,” he says harshly, the veins in his neck bulging with every word he speaks.
I instantly shake my head. I couldn’t do that to him. I struggled those two months trying to tell him that I was sick again. I loved Slater and I was fairly certain he loved me too, but our relationship was about fun and adventure. It wasn’t about hospital visits and doctor’s appointments. And it certainly wasn’t about death. I was petrified, not just of dying, but of losing him. Every week I would convince myself that I had to either give him up or tell him the truth and every weekend my heart would overrule my head. You can’t deny what you heart wants and my heart wanted him more than anything in the world.
“At the start, the fear of losing you stopped me from telling you. Then when I found out about Serena I couldn’t make you go through that again,” I inform quietly, hesitantly walking over to him.
“That wasn’t your choice to make Kylie,” he replies. The pain reflected in his eyes causes me to freeze. “That wasn’t your fucking choice,” he says painfully, his angry voice reverberating around the bathroom.
“You would have given it all away. Everything you and the band had worked so hard for the past several years. You would have left it all behind,” I respond between sobs. He looks at me angrily and shakes his head, his eyes rapidly filling with tears.
“Yes you would have and I couldn’t do that to you. I loved you too much to do that to you,” I continue, finalizing the last few steps between us.
I could see Slater’s pain in his eyes when he talked about his sister the night at the cabin. He would have given anything to have her still in his life. So I knew without a doubt in my mind that he would have given everything away to stay with me while I battled through my illness. But I couldn’t do that to him. I loved him too much. So even though it felt like my heart was being stabbed with every step I took away from him that night at the cabin, I knew I was doing the right thing.
I stand directly in front of him. My eyes stare into his, pleading for him to understand why I did what I did. I did it for him. Everything I did the past two years, I did for him. He lifts his hand and runs his callused index finger across my cheek, wiping away the tears that are streaming down my face in one quick motion. The anger in his eyes slowly changes to resentment. Once he has all my tears cleared off my cheeks, he pulls me in close to his chest and wraps his arms around me tightly, like he is afraid that I may suddenly vanish.
“I love you,” he whispers roughly, his voice sounding like he has swallowed a whole heap of gravel. “I have loved you from the day you walked into the Bar N Barrel,” he continues, forcing a broad smile onto my face.
“I love you too,” I whisper into his chest.
Chapter 27
Slater
One week later…
I swear my dick notices Kylie walking into the room even before my brain registers it. Since he has announced her arrival, I have to adjust myself, causing her to smile and wink as she follows Emily to the corner of the meet and greet room. This meet and greet has been going for nearly two hours and I can’t wait to get out here. My hands aren’t just sore from drumming for two hours straight, they are fucking sore from signing so many autographs. They need to organise some sort of device that can sign for me automatically, because this shit is getting old real quick. I will forever love our fans, but I am a drummer, not a writer. I will be more than fucking happy to leave the writer’s cramp to them.
Things with Kylie have been going great the past few weeks. Actually it has been better than great, it has been fucking perfect. She is perfect. The only dampener the past few weeks was when she told me she had ALL. Not once, but fucking twice. It killed me knowing that she kept that from me. That night, my heart raced a million miles an hour and my eyes burnt from the sudden rush of moisture that had formed in them. I was shocked when my eyes strained as they struggled to hold in my tears, because I don’t cry. I never cry. Not even when my sister died. But when Kylie told me she had the same disease that snatched Serena out of my family’s life way too fucking early and way too young, I couldn’t stop my tears from forming. Just the thought of losing her scared the fucking shit out of me.
I was being deceitful when I said I wouldn’t have given everything up. I would have given it all away in an instant when I found out she was sick. There was no way I would have been able to go on the road for weeks at a time leaving her at home sick and alone. I could have never done that to her. I fell in love with her from the very first moment I saw her. She was all I ever wanted and she would have always been my number one priority. So as much as it hurt and made me angry that she forced that decision for me, I understand why she did it. She did it to save me, even though I really wished she would have chosen to save us. But I understand how different my life would be right now if she had done that.
She was shocked the first time I declared my love for her. I didn’t say it because I felt forced, I said it because I truly meant it. After she left me, I realized how stupid I was to let my ex decipher how I should love anyone following her. I didn’t even know what love truly was until I met Kylie and I am never going to go another day without telling her what she means to me. I will tell her I love her until she is sick of hearing it, and then I will tell her even more.
Kylie was open and honest with me that night and I’ve been trying to do the same the past week. But she is being sly and has started utilising the trick I always use against her. Anytime I try to bring up the past, she kisses me or teases me and my dick soon overrules my head. “It’s in the past, can’t we just leave it there,” she continues to quote, using my own words against me. Maybe one day my dick will eventually calm down enough around her to explain all the bad shit I have done the past few years. Oh who the fuck am I kidding? My dick will never calm down around her.
I chuckle softly to myself as I finish signing the very last CD cover for a fan.
“Thank you so much, I am huge fan, your number one fan,” gushes a pretty blonde. I hand her back her CD and stand from my seat, eager to stretch my legs since I have been sitting for the past several hours.
“That’s great to hear and thanks for coming to our show,” I reply politely. The blonde’s eyelashes flutter and her hand raises to twirl her hair. Here it comes. The exact same thing that happens at the end of every concert.
“Did you want to get out of here?” she questions. Her tongue slowly darts out to lick her top lip and her lust filled eyes boar into mine. “I have a hotel room just one block over,” she continues seductively, her voice coming out in a purr.
Just as I am about to reply, a stern cough comes from over my shoulder. I don’t even need to turn around to know who is there. A broad smile stretches across m
y face before I pivot to see Kylie standing firm. Her tiny hands are on her hips and her narrowed jealous eyes are shooting daggers at the blonde. Jealously never looked so fucking good. I don’t bother replying to the blonde, my dick has its target locked and loaded and it is ready to pounce. All it takes is me taking two steps in Kylie’s direction for her eyes to turn to mine. Now instead of being narrowed, their eagerly darting between mine. She knows I love it when she gets all jealous and possessive. I cock my eyebrow, wondering if she is planning on making me chase her like she normally does or if she is going to stay standing firm. The instant I spot the corners of her mouth lifting, I know she is going to run.
I catch up to her just as she hits the edge of the stage. Her happy squeals echo around the empty stadium and startle a few of the stagehands. She loves being chased and I love nothing more than chasing her. Our kiss soon becomes heated. It does every single time I kiss her, because I can’t get enough of her delicious mouth. She wraps her legs around my waist and I move us closer to the edge of the stage, not wanting any spectators to our make out session.