Struggle to Forever: a friends to lovers duet

by Lilliana Anderson

  “We got into a fight.”

  “About?”

  Letting out a sigh, I glance his way. “Every time we go somewhere there’s a set of rules for him, and a set of rules for me. He can flirt and carry on with anyone he likes, but when I do it, he makes it this huge problem.”

  “Do you think he’s jealous?”

  “Of me? No. I don’t know. Sometimes I think he’s being a chauvinistic arsehole. Other times, I think he wants to pin me down like a butterfly and put me on a shelf so people can look but not touch. Does that make sense?”

  “Oddly.” He nods.

  “I actually thought he would kiss me the other day,” I confide, twisting my fingers together.

  “Whoa. How did that happen?”

  “It was when we were fighting. Things got really intense and then there was this moment, and…” I shake my head. “I don’t know. I probably imagined it. Maybe he wanted to headbutt me.” I flash Tom a smile.

  “That’s not funny,” he says, even though he laughs.

  I let out a sigh. “The point is, I don’t really know what’s going on with him. I feel like he’s holding something huge back.”

  “Like a declaration of undying love and devotion?”

  “Or the desire to blow us up. I feel anger and resentment coming off him. What if he’s just sick of me? What if he thinks I’m holding him back?”

  “Then he’s a cunt and I’ll go and beat him up.”

  “I thought you liked David.”

  “I do. But you mess with my sister, I’ll mess with you.”

  “You can’t beat up the world for me, Tom.”

  “Eh. It’s what big brothers are for.” He shrugs, and we walk in silence for a few beats before he turns to me again. “All jokes aside—and this is all I’m gonna say about it: one of these days, you and David are gonna have to admit your feelings for each other. Everyone can see it besides you two. You aren’t fooling anyone but yourselves.”

  Furrowing my brow, I drop my eyes to the ground, having nothing to say. I’ve been over this so many times before. I’m not trying to fool myself—I know how I feel about David. It’s David who made it clear he doesn’t want me. And he’s never told me any different. Simple as that.

  The next day, I stand outside the lecture hall waiting to go inside, my eyes scanning arriving students, hoping to find David. After spending another night tossing and turning, I need to talk to him. It’s only been a few days, but I’m not coping without him in my life. I want to see if he’ll meet me after class so we can talk and finally clear the air between us like I wanted to on Monday before I let Beth and Bianca get in my head. But I can’t see him anywhere.

  My phone beeps with a message from Elliot. Counting down the hours. Please tell me you’ll be at work tomorrow.

  Distracting me at the perfect time, I smile as I send a reply that lets him know he’ll see me. My thumbs move quickly as I add: But no training for me the day before a race. Maybe lunch??? I watch the screen as I wait for his reply.

  Would love to. But too risky. See you Saturday instead? Don’t forget to send me the details for your race.

  Crap. I totally forgot. Tapping out the information he needs, I push the disappointed feeling over his refusal of lunch as deep down as I can. It’s too risky. He’s right.

  Once the message is sent through, I check the time before putting my phone away. The lecture is almost due to start and David still isn’t here. I head inside and find a seat.

  It isn’t until about ten minutes into the lecture that I spot David arriving. He sneaks in through the far door and sits in the very back row. His head down the entire time, not even looking for me.

  My eyes burn with the pain of unshed tears. Why is he doing this to us?

  When the lecture is over, I scramble out of my seat. He makes a beeline for the door, but I’m not letting him run away from me. We need to talk. It needs to be face-to-face.

  Jogging, I catch him just outside the building as he heads in the direction of the parking lot.

  “David!”

  He stops and looks up to the sky as if he can’t believe I’m coming after him. He doesn’t even turn to look at me, just stands there until I’m by his side.

  “What do you want, Katrina?” he asks flatly.

  “To talk to you.”

  “Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” He moves to the side to move around me, but I place my hand against his chest and block him.

  “Why are you being like this?”

  “Because I’m pissed at you. I thought that was clear on Saturday.”

  “I thought you would have calmed down by now.”

  “Well, I haven’t.” He moves to the side again. “If you don’t mind.”

  I push against his chest again. “Yes, David. I do mind. We need to talk.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Talk? That’s rich, because I’m pretty sure all you want is for me to fall back in line, worship at your feet, bolster your ego while you fawn over your latest muscle-bound guy who treats you like shit. No.” He shakes his head. “I’m not going to be that guy for you anymore. I won’t be the guy who consoles you and tells you you’re pretty while he messes with your head, whispering sweet nothings in private while pretending you don’t exist in public.”

  “That’s not what he does, David. You don’t understand.”

  “Did you know he’s been with Beth too? Kept it all a secret so nobody knew anything. Just like what he is doing with you.”

  “That’s not true. I'm the only…”

  “How do you know that? Is it what he told you?”

  “I…”

  “Maybe that’s what he does? Maybe he has a whole string of secret girlfriends. Have you considered that?” He stands there glaring at me, and I open and close my mouth, not knowing how to respond.

  “You know what? You can do whatever you want: make it secret, shout it from the rooftops. I don’t care, anymore. I won’t stand in your way because I’m removing myself from the equation completely.”

  “You…You’re dumping me?”

  “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep watching you self-destruct the way you do.”

  “Then stop me. Do something and stop me,” I yell, shoving him against his chest, daring him to act the way I thought he would on Saturday. Do it.

  His eyes go wide. “Why would I?” he roars. “You don’t fucking listen to me. You don’t hear me. You don’t see me.” He places his hands on my upper arms, fingers biting into my skin as he fills up my vision. “I have made you my world. But you only want me to be your moon, circling you constantly while you slowly creep closer towards your doom.” He shakes his head, eyes wide and locked on mine. “I can’t do it anymore.”

  I exhale, feeling punched in the gut as I wipe away a stray tear. “Don’t you dare pull that ‘I’m your world’ shit. You friend-zoned me years ago when I told you how I felt. I wanted you to be my world, and you said no. Don’t you dare throw a tantrum because I’ve found someone new. This is what you chose.”

  “I chose you at every turn. Every single time. It was you. It was you. It was you.”

  “Except for when it mattered. Except for when it truly counted,” I say, biting back. “Do you think this has all been fun for me? Do you think I like knowing you fuck all those girls? Do you think I like knowing you treat me like the girlfriend, but you get off with someone else at night? I need more than that, David. I deserve more. I need to be loved.”

  “I do love you! You don’t understand how much,” he yells back, his eyes wide with hurt.

  “Not the way I need you to. Otherwise you wouldn’t behave the way you do. You wouldn’t make me feel like the least desirable girl in the room. It seems to me you’re trying to hook up with every girl on this planet, pushing me and pushing me until I finally hate you because you can’t stand the idea of being something more with me.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it? Because it worked. You win. Now that you�
�re sniffing around Beth, I don’t want you anymore. I can’t even look at you.” My tears fall as I watch his face screw up with hurt and anger from my words. I regret them almost immediately. But it’s too late, it’s all been said.

  He takes a step back, his eyes shining, jaw tight as he shakes his head from side to side. “You…you hate me now?” He runs his hands through his hair and blows out a breath that’s so charged with his emotions it hits me hard in the chest. “What are we doing? I wanted you to move on from Christopher. But…I wanted…I wanted you to move on with…” He stops talking and presses his lips together, shaking his head as he either tries to make himself continue, or force himself to stop. “He’s not the right guy for you. Hate me all you want, but he’s not.” He offers me a shrug then shoves his hands in his pockets and walks away. This time I don’t stand in his way. I just stand there, watching as my only real friend walks away, silent tears rolling down my cheeks as my heart breaks into a million tiny pieces. I don’t hate you.

  Twenty-Three

  With my entire body on fire, I focus my vision in the distance, the finish line looming. I lock my mind on my breath, on the rhythmic pounding of my feet against the path, needing one last push. The crowd cheers. I’m almost there.

  “Go you good thing!”

  I stumble over the finish line and drop to my knees, every muscle in my body burning. Why do I do this to myself?

  My coach hands me water as club members congratulate me. I guess that means I did OK.

  “Look at your time,” he says, pointing to the board.

  “Third,” I gasp, grinning. “I came third.”

  “She’s back,” he says, clapping a congratulatory hand on my back. “Watch out world.”

  Mum and Dad bustle about me, brimming with pride, closely followed by Tom and his girlfriend, and a few other people I train with. But it all feels a little bittersweet without David there too. He never misses a race.

  Looking towards the stands, my hungry eyes search then fall upon a familiar handsome face. The one who mends my heart—when no one’s looking of course.

  “That was amazing,” Elliot says, clapping as he moves towards me. “Congratulations.”

  Thanking him, I fall into his open arms, apologising for being so sweaty against his nice white T-shirt.

  “As if I care.” He beams and plants a kiss on my lips, not even reacting to the fact I’m a bright red mess right now. “I’m so proud of you.”

  I smile up at him, my heart relaxing with a happy sigh.

  Moving with him to the side, I take a moment to introduce Elliot to my parents, Tom and Daniella, watching the way both Dad and Tom size him up as they shake his hand.

  “And what are your intentions for my daughter?” Dad immediately asks.

  “Stop.” I laugh, playfully tapping Dad on his chest. “He doesn’t mean that, Elliot. Do you, Dad?”

  “Well, I suppose not,” he mutters, looking slightly put out.

  “It’s really lovely to meet you, Elliot,” Mum says, her eyes gleaming as she sizes him up for a different reason. “I’ve heard so much about you—from your mother, not Katrina. You’re even more handsome than your photo.”

  Elliot frowns for a second before it clicks. “You met at tennis, right? I remember her mentioning it.”

  “She was surprised to hear you were coming today. You don’t talk much?”

  Elliot grins and places a kind hand on Mum’s shoulder. “We do. But she obviously has lots of ways to keep tabs on me.”

  “All mothers do,” she says.

  Excusing myself, I leave Elliot to the inquisition from my family as I head back to our club tent to cool down and debrief with my coach and congratulate those who finished before and after me. Most of my squad is done now, but we all get together to cheer the final athletes across the finish line.

  By the time I head back to my family to save Elliot, I’ve had a quick shower and put on my street clothes. Searching the stands, I stop and squint against the sunlight, trying to focus on a familiar figure retreating up the stairs towards the carpark.

  “David?” I call out, and I’m sure he turns, but with his face in the shadows, I can’t be sure. It felt like him though. He came.

  I honestly have no idea what it means, but god it makes me happy.

  “Katrina.” Tom waves me over to where my parents are chatting with some other parents, discussing their children’s performances as though it’s an offshoot of their own efforts.

  “Ready to hit the road?” I ask Elliot as he slips an arm around my waist.

  “I’m not sure. I’m kind of enjoying listening to your mum brag about you.”

  My cheeks flame. “God. Has she mentioned the part about me walking at nine months old yet?”

  His eyes widen as he chuckles. “Sure has.”

  “Then we’re not missing anything. Let’s go. I’m starved.”

  Saying a quick goodbye to family and friends, we make our way to Elliot’s car, huddled together like any normal couple. The closeness makes up for the week spent avoiding him. It goes a long way to making up for my shitty week full stop.

  “Katrina!” A male voice calls after me once we hit the car park. A familiarity taps at the back of my mind and I turn around, curious and…concerned.

  Christopher.

  “Great race today.”

  I push my hair from my face, my finger brushing along the smooth line of my scar. “Thanks,” I say, heart in my throat. Please don’t come over here. I forgave him for what he did to me. But I can never let him in my life again.

  “Do you know that guy?” Elliot asks as Christopher waves then gets into his Ford ute.

  Feeling relieved, I turn around and shake my head. “Not really.”

  “Must be a fan.” He flashes me a smile. “So where am I taking you to eat?”

  “Your place?” I suggest as he unlocks his car and pulls the door open for me.

  “You don’t want to eat first? I thought you were starving.”

  Rising up on my toes, I press my lips to his, needing the burst of Elliot to quiet the discomfort seeing Christopher brought up in me. It works, and I hum with pleasure as I lick my lips and grin. “When I said starving, I meant thirsty.”

  He lets out a low growl and pulls me against him. “My place it is.”

  Stretching my leg out so my foot rests on Elliot’s shoulder, he runs a soapy loofah over my skin in long luxurious strokes. “I was surprised David wasn’t there today,” he says from the opposite end of the bath.

  “You’ve got me naked with my leg in the air and you want to talk about David?” I grin, lying back and enjoying the heat of the water on my exhausted muscles. Not too exhausted that I can’t go a few more rounds with Elliot between my legs. The man is good at what he does.

  “I want to talk about you. And since you’ve made it clear you two come as a pair, I expected to see him.”

  I press my lips together and sigh. “He’s not speaking to me.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  “He thinks I shouldn’t be dating secretly, especially after what happened with Christopher.” I go with the most basic explanation I can think of. The rest is too…deeply personal.

  “Does he worry I’m like Christopher?” He dips the loofah in the water, washing out the soap.

  “No, I don’t think so. He was kind of all over the place when we were arguing. He thinks I’m a little reckless with my heart. Doesn’t want me to get hurt.”

  He squeezes water down my leg, rinsing the soap away. “I’m not planning on hurting you.”

  I smile. “No one ever is in the beginning.”

  “I suppose that’s true.”

  “He did mention something about you, though. Something Beth told him.”

  He raises his eyebrows, his eyes confused. “What did Beth tell him about me?”

  I bite my lip, not really wanting to meet his eyes, afraid it might be true. “That you slept with her too. In secret. Just like you’re doing
with me.”

  When I look up, his eyes are wide in astonishment, the loofah frozen in place. “And you believe that?”

  “No… Well, not at first. And I guess it doesn’t really matter. But… I do feel like I need to know.” I take my leg from his shoulder, sitting up a little. “Especially if it’s true. I don’t want to get my heart involved if office flings are a pattern for you.”

  “Office flings?” He sits up too. “A pattern?”

  “Is there an echo in here?” I say with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

  He wipes a hand over his face then leans forward and takes my hands, locking eyes with me as he speaks. “I’ve never slept with her, Katrina. I thought I made that clear. I have at no time even been interested in her either. I give you my word.”

  I nod. “I believe you. And I’m sorry. I just had to ask.”

  Sitting back, he rests his muscular arms on either side of the tub. “It’s fine. I’ll deal with Beth.”

  “What are you going to do to her?”

  “Let her know I don’t appreciate rumours being spread about me. Especially ones designed to get back to my girlfriend.”

  I tap him on the chest with my foot. “You cannot say that. You may as well get a billboard in Martin Place and get us fired that way.”

  With a chuckle, he catches my foot between his hands then works his thumbs into my aching arch. “I’ll be tactful,” he says as I moan contentedly. “And maybe just give David a little time to get used to us. I’m sure he’ll come around when he sees how serious I am.”

  “You’re serious?” I ask, breathless from the glorious things he’s doing to my foot.

  “As a heart attack. I don’t date unless I mean it.”

  “Hmm. That’s good to know. I’m the same.”

  He switches feet. “Also good to know.”

  I rest my head on the bath’s edge, closing my eyes as his fingers massage up my calf, producing that glorious achy relaxation that only a good set of hands can create.

  “Keep doing this and I’ll fall asleep in the tub. Then I’ll be no good to you at all.”

  “I don’t just want you for your body, Katrina.”