What You Left Behind

by Len Webster

  “Stevie!” Mona shouted and ran up to her; attention from the rest of the staff was now on them. “Don’t leave. Fight this.”

  Stevie shook her head and placed pens and notebooks in the box. “I slept with my boss, Mona.”

  “You didn’t know Julian had taken the position,” Mona argued.

  “It doesn’t matter. I still had sex with him. He got me fired,” Stevie pointed out as tears ran down her cheeks. Then she pulled out the drawer of her desk, removed several documents, and threw them into her box. She was thankful that she hadn’t decorated her cubicle. It meant less packing. When she’d packed away everything she needed, she turned her attention to Mona’s saddened expression. “Thank you for everything, Mona. I’m sorry you’re without an intern.”

  Mona settled a hand on Stevie’s shoulder and attempted a reassuring smile. “You take care of yourself. If you need a reference, then use my name. I’m so sorry this happened.”

  Stevie heard the whispers around them and wiped her face. Then she picked up the box and made her way towards the elevator; Richard remained close on her trail. Once they arrived at the elevator, Richard pressed the down button and they waited for the doors to open. The wait was excruciatingly long. The urge to cry was immense. All she wanted to do was throw the box she held against the wall and scream about the unfairness of it all. Timing and circumstances. She hated them all.

  She hated that Julian made assumptions rather than listened to the truth.

  She hated that she felt like she deserved the obliteration of her heart.

  She hated that she didn’t get the chance to tell him the truth.

  But what she hated the most was that she had miscarried.

  Tears ran down her face like a raging river. There was no end to them. In all honesty, she just wanted Julian’s love back. Wanted his smiles rather than the pain-filled eyes that bore into hers. The elevator finally chimed and opened. And the sight of Julian’s cold expression had an involuntary sob escaping. He stepped into the office space, followed by Dwight, one of the younger marketers that had been sweet to her.

  “Stevie, why are you crying? What’s security doing on this floor? Aren’t you normally manning the lobby, Richard?” Dwight glanced back and forth between Stevie and Richard. “Please don’t tell me…”

  “I got fired,” Stevie stated; that was accompanied by a sniff.

  “What the fuck? Why?” The disbelief and confusion consumed Dwight’s hazel eyes.

  Stevie glanced over at Julian. His eyes gazed at anything and anyone other than her. When he finally focused his gaze on hers, Stevie answered, “Unethical behaviour.”

  Dwight flinched, his medium-length dark brown hair falling over his face. He brushed the loose strands behind his ear. “What does that even mean?”

  “Means she whored around the office. Isn’t that right, Stevie? Next place you’re at, try to keep your legs closed, former intern. You might last longer in the employment game if you do. Come on, Dwight.”

  He called me Stevie.

  I’ve lost him.

  His cold and brutal response rendered her speechless. Air wouldn’t fill her lungs. Her heart wouldn’t pump blood. Her entire body had faltered at his words. Stevie hung her head in shame, and without a word, she stepped into the elevator. Her vision had blurred, her heart ached, and her head throbbed. When the steel doors closed, Richard pressed the button for the lobby, and Stevie dropped the box, sobbing uncontrollably.

  She understood that Julian was hurt, but he had hurt her, too. His words had cut deep. Stevie knew she was a whore; God knows she slept with enough men. The numerical value defined her to be one. But to hear him, the only man she had ever loved wholeheartedly, say so was demoralising.

  Richard bent down to pick up the box she’d dropped, but Stevie stopped him when she wrapped a hand around his arm. “Don’t. I’m normally a strong, independent woman. Lately, I haven’t been. But I can pick up a box I dropped. Thank you, Richard.”

  “Okay,” Richard replied.

  The vibrating of her phone had Stevie reaching into her jacket pocket to see that her father had messaged her.

  Papa: I have never been more disappointed in you, Stéphanie. Bill Rogers called me. The VP? Really? I knew you had your wild days, but I thought that was a phase. I see that it’s not. You let me down.

  Stevie locked her phone and returned it to her pocket. That was when she let out a strangled scream, not caring that Richard from security had witnessed and heard it.

  Now, I have no one.

  Sophie: You are going to have the best day today.

  Charles: Unlikely.

  Sophie: Trust me, Charlie. You are going to have THE BEST DAY TODAY!

  Charles: Like I trusted you to make good choices when it came to the kebab place. Shit night on the town ended with piss poor kebabs.

  Sophie: You can fuck right off. You don’t even deserve a good day for being such a wanker.

  Charles: Love you, too. You stay out of trouble while I finish work.

  Sophie: You’re such a tosser. I hate being your cousin.

  Sophie: Are you having a good day yet?

  Charles: I’d be having a bloody productive day if you didn’t text us every two hours.

  Sophie: What is taking so long?

  Charles: What are you up to?

  Sophie: You’ll see. My lips are sealed.

  Charles: That’s a first! Most times you’re snogging that boyfriend of yours.

  Sophie: You’re just jealous.

  Charles: Bye, Sophie.

  Sophie: Bye, Charlie.

  Sophie: Don’t forget to call me when you have the best day today.

  Charles shook his head, set his phone down next to his laptop, and returned his focus to the efficiency report he had been drafting. When he had graduated from one of England’s top business universities, he had no idea where or how he’d get a job in such a vast field. Luckily, with the help of his ex-girlfriend’s mother, he was able to land the operations management role with one of the UK’s leading tech firms. Just the thought of Stevie made his heart ache. The decision to let her get on that plane had been tough. As much as Charles had wanted her to stay, Stevie’s mother had other plans. There was no way he could have provided for her if her parents had cut her off. He wasn’t going to take that risk, so Charles had to let her go.

  The office phone on his desk began to ring, and with a heavy sigh, Charles picked up it up.

  “Yes, Emma?” Charles asked as he mindlessly scrolled through the report.

  “Mr Henderson, you have a visitor,” Emma, his assistant, said.

  “I’m quite busy.”

  “I’m sorry, but Mr Henderson is unavailable. Can I take a message?” Emma asked his visitor. “You don’t want me to take one? But you came all this way.”

  “That’s okay, Emma. I’ll come out. Just give me a second.”

  “Okay, sir,” his assistant said and then hung up.

  Another sigh and Charles placed the phone back on the hook. He picked up his mobile phone and then stood up from behind his desk. On only rare occasions did he have to deal with visitors from outside the company, so he wasn’t used to it. Once he had made it to his office door, Charles opened it and stepped out onto the office floor.

  “Just over there, Mr Henderson.” Emma pointed to a blonde woman staring at the many employees stationed at their desks. He glanced down at his red-haired assistant and smiled appreciatively at her.

  “Hello, I’m Charles Henderson. Can I—” The moment she turned, all breath fled him. His heart picked up and every part of him ached in need. “Stevie?”

  Her blue eyes shimmered and then a small smile graced her face. “Hi, Charles.”

  “W-what are you doing back in London?”

  Her smile vanished, replaced with a deepening frown. “Thought it was time I came home.”

  Charles shook his head. Not once had she ever considered London to be home. He knew something bad must have happened. “Emma
, I’ll be gone for the rest of the day.”

  “But, Mr Henderson, you have the meeting with the senior—”

  “Cancel it,” he instructed firmly. Stevie’s brows furrowed at his request. “Tell him a family emergency came up. Come on, Stevie.”

  “Stevie… your fiancée?” Emma asked breathlessly.

  “Seriously, Charlie?” Stevie asked. She wasn’t bitter, rather she was amused by Emma’s question. He smiled at the way his nickname had fallen from her lips and squeezed his heart. They’d been close to getting married one night in Blackpool. Sophie had introduced her to their family as his fiancée, and she went along with it.

  “Sophie can’t let it go,” he said, trying to defend himself. “Take the rest of the day off, Emma. Stevie and I have some catching up to do. London Eye first?”

  Stevie nodded and said, “Sure.” Then she turned her attention to his assistant. “It was nice meeting you.”

  He took long strides until he was face to face with her. It had been a long time since he had been this close to her. All the things he had wished for them came surging back to him. But her heart wasn’t his to claim. The sadness in her eyes was proof enough. Her heart and love belonged to another. But he couldn’t help raising his hand and stroking her cheek.

  “You’re really here,” he whispered.

  “I am.”

  Charles let his hands graze the length of her arms until their fingers entwined. Old memories bombarded his every thought. She felt so familiar. So right. But the fragility he remembered also returned. It was that clear in her dim and dull eyes.

  “I’m glad you’re back, Stevie.”

  The smile she gave him didn’t meet her eyes. “That was the plan, remember? I was always going to come back to you.” The sorrow in her voice caused the heated ache to fill his chest.

  What did he do to you, Stevie?

  “Could you please take our photo?” a woman in an ‘I love London’ T-shirt asked and pointed at her husband and two girls.

  “Sure,” Stevie replied and took the camera in her hands as the tourists huddled together. Charles sat on the bench in the middle of the London Eye capsule they had entered, observing her. “Say cheese.”

  “Cheese!” the family of four said in unison.

  “There you go. I took a few just in case you didn’t like the first one.”

  “Thank you so much,” the woman said before she took the camera and showed her family the snaps Stevie had just taken.

  “I forgot how much I love the Eye,” Stevie admitted with a smile once she had taken a seat next to him.

  Charles took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You people watched more than you looked at attractions. You got a Merlin card just to do it.”

  She let out a soft laugh. “I did, too.”

  “When did you get back?”

  “Yesterday afternoon. I was too jet lagged and didn’t know where you worked. I wanted to surprise you so I called Sophie. She told me about how well you’re doing for yourself.” The hint of proudness in her voice had his heart expanding.

  “You should have called me, Steves. I would have picked you up at the airport. Where are you staying?”

  A sigh escaped her lips, and she tilted her head to stare at the Houses of Parliament. “My mother’s place.”

  “You can stay with me,” he offered.

  “I know,” Stevie replied in a small voice. “She was surprised that I showed up on her doorstep. I had nowhere else to go.”

  Charles twisted his body so that he faced her properly. “What’s going on, Stevie? There have been sad times in the two years we’ve been apart, but you’ve never once called, texted, or come back to London.”

  The realisation flashed in her eyes. Stevie then brought her legs up and crossed them. She tore her hand from his and settled them in her lap. “He couldn’t love me at my worst.”

  The pain in her eyes was as if a blunt knife was forced into his chest. Slow, brutal, and absolutely painful. He loved this woman. Loved her the moment he’d rescued her from the club he had been celebrating his friend’s birthday in. “Then he doesn’t deserve you.”

  The appreciation consumed her beautiful face. The feistiness and sass that he had loved seemed non-existent. She wasn’t quite the Stevie he remembered. The one he helped get over her past and her pain. All the improvements seemed like a waste.

  “He didn’t deserve what I did.”

  “Stevie, you did nothing wrong. You miscarried. You have to stop blaming yourself. You couldn’t have prevented it,” he assured.

  “You always did have a way of making me better.” Her smile returned. But it was slightly off, slightly broken.

  I’ll make you smile again, Stevie.

  I’ll make you happy.

  “So he didn’t take the news well?” he asked, needing confirmation.

  She shook her head. “He got me fired. Called me a whore. Pretty much defined me as a murderer for killing our child.”

  “But you—”

  “I know. But he didn’t give me the chance to explain. Jarred hijacked me and gave him the sonogram. He also hates me for lying to him. I’ve never seen him so angry before, Charles,” she admitted.

  “Does he know you’re in London?”

  Another shake of her head. “No. I didn’t know what to do. Papa found out whom I had slept with and said he was disappointed in me. Jarred’s disgusted in me, so I ran. The only thing I’ve known how to do. I won’t be missed. No one will be looking for me.”

  Charles grabbed her hands and wrapped her arms around his neck, like old times. Her nose brushed against his. “That’s a bloody lie, Stevie. They’ll see how wrong they were. You’ll be missed. They’ll notice. Gotta thank him in a way; you’re back here with me.”

  “Where I should have stayed all this time,” she revealed.

  “I know. I shouldn’t have let you go,” he said, regret heavily laced his voice.

  “I’m where I should be now.” She closed her eyes and let out a soft hum.

  “Come with,” he whispered.

  “To where?”

  “Brighton.”

  Her eyes snapped open. “Now?”

  He nodded. “We’ll go back to your mother’s. We’ll grab everything you have, and I’ll call Gary and get the key to the beach house on the way.”

  Stevie pulled back. “But work?”

  “I’ll take it with me,” he answered. “Please? You need this. I need this. We’ll go back to where it all started for us. Remember? From London to Brighton…”

  An honest and sweet smile appeared on her face. “Somewhere in between is where I fell in love with you.”

  Charles’ hands were on her hips as he brought her a little closer. Then he whispered, “From London to Brighton, I knew I couldn’t love you any less than I already did.”

  Like she did all those years ago, Stevie exhaled and witnessed her breath in the air. It was that cold. That was one thing she hadn’t missed about England—the cold weather. By the time they had retrieved the small suitcase she had brought from Melbourne, it was just after lunch. By the time they had reached Brighton, it was almost 1:30 p.m. Her mother had understood her need to return to Brighton with Charles. Stevie had needed good memories. And the blissful moments she had with Charles had been those good memories. It was odd to see her mother so welcoming of her ex-boyfriend. In the time they had dated, her mother had been apprehensive about him. He only made her better, so it was difficult to understand her mother’s less than impressive attitude towards him.

  Stevie dug her hands into the thick blue jacket her mother had insisted she wear. Though the sun bled through the clouds, the frost still hung in the air. She found comfort in the vicious waves that crashed against the shore. It’d be suicidal to attempt to swim, but there was a handful in the water. They didn’t frolic or play. They did laps it seemed. She had thought snow would blanket the beach, but this year it was warmer than previously. But it was still cold in comparison to back home in
Melbourne.

  “You all right?” Charles asked beside her.

  Stevie let out a low sigh and nodded. Charles was always good to her. Ever since they had met, he had focused on her happiness and treated her as no one else had. He saw the good in her, and she was never quite sure why. Charles could have had any other woman, but he had chosen her. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t get a woman’s attention. His chiselled face with his light brown hair, soft green eyes, and sweetness in his smile made him every mother’s dream guy for their daughter… except hers. But then again, Collette hadn’t been much of a mother so her opinion of Charles never really mattered to Stevie.

  “Stevie?”

  She tore away from the sight of the water and the remains of West Pier to stare at him. Every part of her still loved him. Maybe not the way she loved Julian, but it was there. He had made her better. He had made her feel like she was worth something, worth a glance and a smile. But it killed her that she couldn’t be hopelessly in love with him like she had been two years ago.

  Before she was able to reply to him, Charles had wrapped his arms around her and whispered, “I’m here. You don’t have to go back. You have me.”

  Stevie hugged him just as tight. “I love you, Charlie.”

  His nickname felt so natural to her lips. So much good within him made her heart warm and ache. She knew she was trying to mask it, but the lingering pain of Julian remained. Whether she stayed in England was another story. For now, she’d find comfort in Charles. She didn’t have Julian’s love.

  Not anymore.

  “I love you, Stevie,” he said into her hair.

  And that was the difference between Charles and Julian. Charles loved the real her. The one with all the flaws and all the mistakes. Julian loved Stephanie. The girl Stevie had left behind all those years ago in that Thai villa. Charles loved the monster that she was. Julian had loved the idea of what she had been. Maybe Julian had been a habit of her heart. Someone she’d have to get over. Someone she’d have to tell her heart to forget. She had made her bed a long time ago. She had deserved every accusation and hurtful words.