by Claire Ayres
“I started to call into your office to see how you were, and I knew you weren’t doing well there. I would come around here and check up on you, I knew you didn’t get out much and only with Katie and Jay. I saw you were stuck as much as I was, and I figured if I could time it right I would win you back.”
He was really crying by now, he hadn’t held back, and the tears were falling. Jess held him and let the tears come, she let him cry it out, holding him close the way she’d wanted him to hold her all those months ago. His words played around her head; he had been there for months waiting for her, he knew he had made a mistake which despite everything meant a lot.
“What you said to me, about my negative energy, is that true? That’s never left me, Ade, I’m terrified I’m toxic.” The question comes out as a whisper as a tear falls down Jess’ face, because this is the thing that has been like a noose around her neck ever since the day Ade said the words. This is her chance to clear it up, to find out if he really meant it.
He lifts his head, placing his hands either side of her head and his forehead against hers before he answers.
“You could never be toxic, Jessica, you don’t have negative energy. Even when you were deep in your depression you lit the room up. I hate myself for making you feel like that, Jessica. Please see what a good person you are.”
Jess smiles and nods, and as she does he leans in and kisses her. Jess pulls back surprised, eyes wide, her arms coming up to pull his from her face. Ade just smiles. He leans in again, a softer hesitant kiss, his hands tangling in her hair as the kiss becomes more urgent, deeper and as the emotion of the past hour accumulates in her she finds herself falling into it, remembering the comfort of Ade and how his kisses and arms wrapped around her feel.
He pulls Jess onto his knee the way he always used to, ensuring a closeness between them. One of his hands snakes up underneath her top, the other is moving underneath her skirt. She is touching his chest, re-familiarising herself with the touch and feel of his body beneath her hands. He starts to lift her top wanting to take it off when her phone rings. She gets a perfect picture of Luka in her mind and pulls back from Ade. Jumping up and running across the room, the way she feels about Luka rushing through her like a tidal wave, the future she wants with him flashing before her, and with it the guilt that is starting to eat her up from the inside out. As she picks her phone up to see the message he has sent her, a sense of dread washes over her.
Luka: Hi Pinky, in the interval, not the same without you here! I miss you.
“Jessica, I really do love you,” says Ade breathlessly from across the room.
Oh Hell, what have I done?
Chapter Sixteen
Luka
Luka stares intently at his phone, the same way he’s been staring at the damn thing for the past fifteen minutes. He sent Jess a text message as soon as the interval began, and he knows deep down there are a thousand reasons why she may not have replied. All he wants is a bite, something to say she is thinking of him as well.
Paul’s hand appears on Luka’s shoulder, but his gaze is not broken from his phone.
“Come on, mate, they called us back five minutes ago,” Paul says.
“Oh, right, yeah, I’m coming, give me a sec,” Luka responds trying to shake off the feeling that Jess really is pulling away from him. He’s feeling that the odds are stacked against him and the familiar pang of hurt spreading through his chest when he thinks about losing her. Then he reminds himself that they have only been seeing each other a couple of weeks and he shouldn’t have got himself so attached so soon.
Giving himself a mental shakedown, he straightens up his tux, glances back at his phone, then puts it back in his cello case to be picked up once the concert has finished. Walking out with his cello, he makes it in time, saving himself a huge bollocking from the conductor.
As the orchestra starts to play it becomes clear that Luka is not on form. His timing is off, and he starts missing important cues. The conductor gives him a look like he is ready to throw him into the pit and nobody would blame him, least of all Luka, whose mind is anywhere except at the concert where it should be. He knows he is going to blow this concert for everyone, making the whole company look like amateurs. He tries to pull himself together, to concentrate on his job. Playing the cello is the one thing he has always been passionate about, so this shouldn’t be difficult for him.
During a rest in playing, Paul glances over and they lock eyes. He mouths, “What’s up?” and Luka shakes his head in defeat before starting to playagain.
Luka scrapes his way through the second half with his fellow cellists hissing at him to pull it together. The conductor looking like he’s ready to start throwing chairs, and Paul looking more concerned. By the end of the concert, the whole orchestra knows something is up with Luka Bartelli, who may have annihilated his career in one performance.
“Luka!” The conductor comes storming up behind him as he walks towards his cello case.
“Henry.” Luka turns, realising this isn’t even going to happen behind closed doors: he’s pissed, and the whole orchestra is witnessing the fallout.
“What on earth got into you today? You played like a schoolboy, and a bad one at that!”
“I’m sorry, I’m not…feeling well, I think it got to me. It won’t happen again.” He hopes.
“It bloody well better not, or you’re out on your ear. I don’t care what you’ve done before, you play like that in my orchestra, you aren’t sticking around. Do you hear me?”
“Loud and clear. I’m sorry, Henry, I really am.” Luka tries to shake his hand; instead Henry spins on his heel and storms off.
“Wow, haven’t seen him that pissed off since Barbara turned up stoned last year,” Paul chuckles sidling up next to Luka.
“Who is Barbara?” Luka responds.
“Exactly!” He thwacks Luka on the back. “What the fuck got into you tonight, mate, I’ve never heard you play like that?”
Luka, ignoring the question, walks over to his cello case, foregoing all the cello care he is normally meticulous about and promising himself to give it lots of TLC tomorrow. He checks his phone and there are zero messages. His stomach sinks like a lead balloon and he slips his phone into his pocket with a huge sigh.
“Woman problems?” Paul asks, trying again to get to the bottom of Luka’s terrible performance.
“Yeah, you could say that.” Luka bends over to close the cello case and puts his head in his hands.
“Why don’t you come get a drink with me and Eric?”
“Did Eric come tonight?” Luka looks up at him.
“Yes, he has a layover for a few days. So, are you going to come and tell us what’s going on?” Paul drapes his arm around Luka’s neck and Luka finally nods.
The instruments get loaded into the transport which will take them safely back to Bristol, and Luka heads out with Paul, who rushes ahead when he sees Eric and they hug, love dripping off them. Luka wonders why is it so hard to find what they have. As he nears them, Eric breaks away and looks at Luka with a big welcoming smile.
Eric is well suited to Paul, the day to Paul’s night; he almost looks like a Viking - blond hair which is similar to Luka’s in length, a thin frame, a well-structured face and brown eyes - again the opposite of Paul.
“Look who I found.” He turns, and Luka feels a rush of warmth run through his body as his brothers walk up to him, hugging Niccolo first, then Gerardo.
Gerardo and Niccolo are very obviously Luka’s brothers. They all have the same facial structure. Gerardo has the same chestnut hair, cut short to suit his City job, and his eyes are a mirror of Luka’s. Niccolo has deep brown eyes and dark brown shaggy hair, there is still no mistaking him as a Bartelli.
“It’s so good to see you.” Says Luka hugging each of his brothers affectionately.
“Hey, what’s up with you, you’
re not usually this nice to us,” Niccolo says as the brothers say hi to Paul
“Oh, he’s having girl problems, totally messing with his mojo,” Paul fills in while Eric hugs Luka.
“Hello there, handsome.”
“Hey, Eric, I had no idea you would be here tonight,” Luka says as Eric pulls away and takes Paul’s hand.
“My schedule was changed last minute. Now, why are we not meeting your new young lady?”
“That is a long story, best told over a stiff drink,” Luka sighs and Eric looks at him, puts an arm around his shoulders and pats his arm knowingly.
“Come on then, let’s go get rip-roaringly drunk,” says Gerardo with a laugh.
The men walk to the bar where most of the orchestra has congregated; they manage to find a free booth and get a bottle of whiskey in to share. Luka can’t help but to check his phone again, but there is still nothing from Jess. He considers texting her again, but he’s at a loss about what he should write, or how he should even write it.
“Come on then, bro. What’s going on?” Niccolo enquires.
Luka is surrounded by friends and family and feels totally alone and isolated. “Honestly, I have no idea. Everything was good, great even, she was going to come tonight. Then things got weird, she started pulling away, got twitchy every time her phone went, said she couldn’t come tonight. Now she’s not replying to my texts. Honestly, it feels an awful lot like when Ellie and Mark… well, you know.” Luka downs a whiskey before topping his glass up, staring intently at the table.
“Man, I’m sorry,” says Paul.
“You’ve only been seeing her for a short time,” says Eric.
Luka sighs, putting his head in his hands.
“Oh, shit, man, you’ve fallen for her, haven’t you?” Paul leans further forward, taking a large swig of his whiskey, while Gerardo does a double take between Paul and Luka.
Luka nods, he’s mortified that he’s having this conversation with two of his closest friends and his brothers when he thinks the girl is bolting out of the gate.
“I tried to keep her at arm’s length, to keep it only about the physical, I even tried to keep away from her. She got under my skin.” He downs another shot and runs his fingers through his hair, pure frustration dripping from his every pore.
“Time to drink up, man, come on.” Gerardo tops Luka’s glass up and pushes it towards him.
“Bottoms up!” He downs the entire glass, enjoying that the numbing effect was starting to hit now; a few more of these and he might sleep tonight.
“Hey, guys, I thought I’d find you here.” Just as Luka thinks his evening can’t get any worse, he sees Eric and Paul shaking their heads: Luka turns his and there he is, in the flesh - Mark.
Mark and Luka met in Freshers Week at Uni; they were the only male cellists in their year and that bonded them, along with copious amounts of alcohol and a need to chase girls like they were jackrabbits. Mark has always been very prim and proper in how he looked; he came from a very posh family. His dark hair is always neatly cropped, he has a small frame and is shorter than Luka, and he has grey eyes that the women love - even back in Uni the girls would go crazy for his eyes.
Nothing could come between Mark and Luka: they never let the music come between them, not even when Luka won the first chair and Mark played second, they were a team and that was all that mattered. Then Luka caught Mark in bed with Ellie. It was the ultimate betrayal, and Luka doesn’t know how he can move past that.
Luka glares at Mark and doesn’t even know what to say.
“Hey, why so serious, guys?” Mark laughed. “I brought drinks!” He waves a bottle of whiskey, which Luka leers at thinking he really needs it tonight. Before he knows what he is doing he has moved over making space for Mark. Thinking to himself, screw my morals, I want to get drunk.
Mark shuffles into the booth, then tops up the group’s glasses and one for himself.
“So, what’s new?” he asks, looking at Luka, who has resumed his position with his head in his hands. He doesn’t want to talk, instead drowning his sorrows with drink.
“What are you doing here?” Niccolo counters trying to help things along a little.
“Honestly, Luka’s not replying to my messages, are you, Luka? We’ve been best friends for over a decade. I don’t want to throw that away.”
“Are you really surprised after what you did to him, Mark? You completely fucked our brother over,” replies Gerardo.
“Yeah you’re right I did, I want to sort this shit out though.”
Luka swings his head around and glares at him, all his feelings about Jess bubbling to the surface, and Mark is going to be the one who takes the brunt of it.
“What? Do you want to say something, Luka? Say it…you haven’t said anything at all since I fucked up, so come on, get it out,” Mark goads him.
“You want me to say something. You fucked everything up, you fucked our friendship up, you left me on my own, you fucked my job up, you fucked my life up.” Luka takes a breath, then downs some more whiskey and stares intently at the table.
“I fucked up, yes, I didn’t fuck everything else up for you. You did that, Luka. Nobody told you to put a grenade to your job and your life. You chose to do that.”
“Because I couldn’t be around you, you stupid bastard. You betrayed me, screwed me, and I lost everything because of it.” Tears spring to Luka’s eyes; his emotions are a mess and he slumps in the seat.
“I was a fucking idiot, what I did with Ellie was stupid. I got drunk and I had sex with the one person I shouldn’t have had sex with. The worst part was, I hurt the only person I care about, my best friend. I have done nothing except miss you and want to speak to you since. I need to get you back in my life. I can’t lose you, Luka.”
“And what happens next time I have a girlfriend you fancy?” Luka spits at him, knowing that is his biggest worry.
“I would never, ever do that to you again,” Mark swears. “Luka, our friendship means the world to me, losing it has been the worst thing that has ever happened to me. You have to know that, please.”
Luka loses the ability to fight this anymore, there is too much going on in his head right now and having his best friend back again would give him strength. He nods and he puts his hand out to shake. Mark puts his out and when their hands meet in a shake he pulls Luka into a tight hug.
“I’m sorrier than you will ever know,” he whispers in Luka’s ear.
The six men finish the whiskey and Mark helps a very drunk Luka back to his hotel to get some sleep. Luka sets his alarm for early, knowing he wants to get back and speak to Jess as soon as possible and find out what on earth is happening.
Before he dozes off he checks his phone again, and still there are no messages. He dials Jess’ number and hopes she will pick it up and set his mind at ease; it goes straight to voicemail though, and his heart starts to break a little.
Chapter Seventeen
Jess
Jess has been sitting on the couch for a good fifteen minutes since her phone pinged with Luka’s message and all she keeps thinking is that she let Ade kiss her, no, even worse, she kissed him back. As she starts to shake angry with herself for letting that moment happen arms snake around the back of her neck and start massaging her shoulders, and she violently pulls away. Jumping to her feet, fists clenched, tears starting to roll down her face.
“Jessica, you don’t have to feel bad,” Ade pleas with her.
“How do you know what I’m feeling?” she spits back at him, turning her anger at outwards onto him.
“I know you, remember? I know you better than anybody.” He walks around the couch towards her like a prowling cat. “I’m guessing that was him on the phone, the other guy. That’s why you freaked out?”
She nods.
He begins to put an arm around her shoulder and while he does fe
el good, familiar, and like his old self, Jess can’t do this, snuggle up with one man while the man she loves is somewhere else. She pulls away from Ade tears streaming down her face.
“You need to leave now,” she says
Ade leans in towards her again and she slaps his hand away.
“Jessica, please, we have so much history you can’t throw it all away like this.” To which she starts laughing.
--!--
Three Years Earlier
Katie and Jess are trying to be adventurous and have decided to go and see an ice hockey match. Neither girl knows anything about ice hockey - who does in England? They arrive at the ice rink and there is a small crowd there for the match. The teams come out and they look on in awe as the players skate around smashing the puck up and down the ice. It is exhilarating and they both get completely swept up in it, screaming and shouting: nobody would have guessed they didn’t have a clue about the game.
There is an altercation, OK, it’s a punch-up, and one of the players ends up against the barrier right in front of the girls. He looks right at Jess and as soon as their eyes connect she feels her heart stop: his chestnut eyes are sparkling out at her and when he smiles, it is a cheeky smile that makes her lose all sense of space and time. He skates back onto the ice and every now and then he looks over and checks she is still there, still watching him, their eyes connecting and an invisible thread locking them and stealing her breath every time for a split second.
As soon as the match finishes he skips the winner’s celebrations with his teammates and skates over to the girls before they have time to leave. Taking his helmet off, his dark hair is soaked with sweat and Jess decides there and then that he is one of the sexiest things she has ever seen. Katie, not one for being subtle, starts nudging her and giggling, while Jess is wondering how she managed to catch the eye of this gorgeous guy.