Trusted by You

by Amy Muscat

  She nods eagerly. Calum just stands there shaking his head at her, looking thoroughly amused.

  I roll my eyes and tell them to come into my room and we can call reception and ask.

  After I finally get the stupid key card to be accepted, we walk into my room, and I go over to the phone sitting by the bed on the table. I press number one, and when the receptionist answers, I ask her if we are allowed to order our food. They, as I expected, said yes and that it was, of course, fine. I gave Hayley a smug smile when I relay that to her, to which she pokes her tongue out to me in retaliation. I grin at her silliness and so does Calum.

  Ten minutes later the food is ordered and I'm in the shower scrubbing off the smells of beer, pub, and smoke.

  Fifteen minutes later, as I'm creaming my body, I hear a knock on the door.

  The food’s here already? I think to myself. Wow, they’re quick.

  “I’ll get it!” I hear Calum shout out. “Hey, you guys are quick…” I hear him say.

  I hear low murmurs coming through the door, shouting, and then a big bang! I rush to pull a terry cloth towel around me and run out from the bathroom, my wet hair whipping my face as I rush around the corner. But then I come to an abrupt halt and gasp when I see who’s at the door.

  Standing there with his chest heaving, inky black hair covering his forehead, and his facial expression fierce was the man I had left behind back in New York City.

  “Blake…” I whisper in wonder.

  HE WAS HERE.

  He was really and truly here!

  Oh, my God!

  I can’t believe he’s actually here. I start to get excited, but then I take in the room, and I notice three things at once: Calum on the floor holding his eye. Blake is now staring at me looking so angry he reminded me of a raging bull who was getting geared up and ready to knock down the matador holding the red flag. And the last was my erratically beating heart.

  “Blake… wh-what are you doing…? What happened? Why…?” I couldn’t get a structured sentence to come out my mouth for love nor money.

  His face that was all fierce looking was now contorted in serious pain. “I came here to see my girlfriend. I came because I couldn’t bear the thought of you thinking that I was angry with you… I didn’t like that we had, had an argument and then you had left for here, and we hadn’t spoken–”

  “That’s not my fault! I tried to ring you a couple of times, and you didn’t answer me. Not once.” I said interrupting him. I wasn’t gonna get the blame for anything, I had tried to contact him, but he hadn’t picked up the phone to me.

  His face scrunched up, and his mouth tightened, and through stiff lips he replied, “My cell broke.” I snorted. Yeah, okay, like I hadn’t heard that excuse before– he might as well of said ‘the dog chewed up my phone’ even though he didn’t have a dog. Blake hearing my snort or maybe it was the look of disbelief that I knew was on my face, he said, “It did! After we had argued, I was so angry, and in the midst of that anger; I threw my phone at the wall in my apartment, and it broke. I took it into Verizon and they said there was nothing they could do, that I had to wait four days until I could get a new one. I told them I didn’t give a fuck about the phone, that I just wanted the numbers on it. But when they looked, the chip had somehow cracked in two inside, and that meant they couldn’t retrieve it. So I left and went to the Apple Store, I bought another phone, but then when I put all of my details into the new phone, none of my numbers had been backed up. Obviously, I didn’t save my numbers from my previous phone into my Sim card, so I didn’t have your number. I had no way to contact you, and then when I went to Keller's and Peyton's house, you shut the call down. Peyton told me that you didn’t want to speak to me yet. But I explained to them what had happened and Peyton gave me your number. I left it for a day, giving you time to cool off; but then I thought ‘fuck it’ and came here to surprise you.” He finished with a big inhale after his long speech. I could see his chest heaving; his knuckles whiten until I could see bones.

  “Blake…” I didn’t know what to say to him. I now understood why he hadn’t called me and hadn’t responded to me. I felt like an idiot; if I hadn’t of shut off FaceTime when I did, I would’ve known about his phone. I wouldn’t have felt like I've felt for the past couple of days.

  Idiot, idiot, idiot!

  But just as I'm about to say sorry, Blake talks first; and what he says stuns me.

  “But then I get to London, come here to this hotel, to fucking tell you I loved you, and I see you shacked up with another man.”

  What…? What man?

  A groan from the floor pulls me from my thoughts, and I look down and see Calum still clutching his eye, struggling to get up. I bend down and grab onto his arm helping him stand.

  When he’s finally horizontal, I look up and ask if he’s okay, rubbing away the blood that’s beading on his lip.

  “Yeah, I'm fine. Didn’t expect to get hit when I opened the door, that’s all. I take it that this is your bloke from the States? The Yank?” Calum asks me, looking over to Blake, raising an eyebrow and then back to me for confirmation. When I nod silently, he says, “I'll leave you two to talk. I'm gonna go clean my face up, and stick some ice on my eye” He then walks off in the direction of the bathroom.

  I watch him go and don’t look back at Blake until I hear the telltale sound of a click letting me know that Calum had shut the door. But when I do look at the door, Blake's not there anymore. I quickly step out onto the corridor calling his name.

  “Blake? Blake!” I shout. I hear the sound of the stairway door swinging shut, and run in that direction.

  I push the door open and call his name again, and again. I get no answer, but when I look over the railings I see him speed walking down the steps, so I start sprinting down the stairs still calling out to him.

  “Blake!! Wait, please!” I finally catch-up to him three floors down, and I grab onto the sleeve of his polo shirt. “Wait. Why are you running? Why did you leave? Will you just fucking wait for one second…?” I shout at him.

  He spins around, glaring at me and then down at the hand that’s on his arm. I drop my hand from his arm; it felt like he had just zapped me with lasers. “Why am I leaving?! Are you for fucking real right now, Lottie? What, you expect me to just stand there while you have your hands all over another man?” He shouts at me, with a disbelieving lilt to his voice.

  What?

  “What’re you talking about, Blake?” I looked at him clueless, and with a nasty smirk he explains what he meant. Only I didn’t realise what was about to come out of his mouth, and I definitely didn’t know what he was going to say would change… everything.

  “I'm talking about you cheating on me. I'm talking about you doing just what Lucy did to me, only this time you limited yourself to only one man; didn’t feel like going for the full bang with two men, then Charlotte? Huh? What no answer?”

  Silence. That’s all you could hear… nothing. You could hear absolutely nothing. I couldn’t even hear my breathing, nor Blake's. I felt like I was submerged in the ocean and I couldn’t hear or see anything in front of me. I felt like I was drowning.

  But then, I heard the worst sentence in the world. One sentence that completely shatters me. Fourteen words that completely obliterated my heart, leaving me gasping for breath. One fucking sentence.

  “You're nothing but a dirty, cheating fucking whore, Lottie. I'm done with you. Goodbye.”

  And with that, he left. Left. He walked or more like jogged down the stairs, leaving me standing there mouth gaping open, body frozen and mind in a complete tailspin.

  I don’t know how long I stood there for, but it was only until I felt a stabbing pain in my foot, that I snapped out of it. I looked down and realised that I wasn’t wearing any shoes and only a towel wrapped around my, now, shaking body. I slowly turned around and made my way up the stairs and through the door until I got to my room. I walked through the still open door and shut it behind me not even fl
inching when it slammed shut, and through the hallway until I get to the bedroom. I sat down on the edge of the bed in silence. I knew Calum had come into the room, and I knew he was talking to me, but nothing– and I do mean nothing– was getting through to me. Not one word… not one syllable… nothing. I was numb. Totally mind-fuckingly numb. Nothing was getting through my shield of nothingness.

  I don’t know when Hayley came into the room, I don’t even know if the food arrived, but I did know when Calum and Hayley finally left me to be on my own. I felt their presence leave, even though I didn’t acknowledge it. All I wanted to do was lay down, and block out all the thoughts running through my head. Wanted to block out those fourteen fucking words that were on repeat in my head. The look on Blake's face when he called me those horrible names; disgusted, sickened, and repulsed. But most of all it was the heartbroken look in his eyes that did a number on me. Those beautiful blue/green eyes were shimmering in hate, but so much pain at the same time, that every time I thought of those captivating eyes, I felt my heart shatter again and again.

  I don’t know when I feel asleep, but when I did, all I dreamt about was those eyes and those fourteen words over and over…

  “You're nothing but a dirty, cheating fucking whore, Lottie. I'm done with you. Goodbye.”

  And when I woke up at five in the morning it was to tears running down my face. My body freezing cold because I had fell asleep on top of the covers, and pain that I had never felt radiating through my body.

  I'VE JUST TOUCHED DOWN at Heathrow airport, and it feels sooo good to be back on the ground; the turbulence flying over the Atlantic was fucking horrendous.

  I didn’t like the thought of doing that in a couple of days, but I will have to deal with it, won’t I?

  I walked around to customs, and thankfully, they didn’t pay me any attention– not that I was doing anything wrong, but still; they made you do some fucked up shit. I had to wait thirty minutes for my bag to come around. Once I picked mine up, I walked out through arrivals and jumped into a taxi, telling the man to take me to the Hilton hotel at Canary Wharf where Lottie was staying.

  I couldn’t wait to see her. We had left things on a bad note. A really, really bad note. We had an argument where shit was said, shit that I didn’t mean to say, but they do say that in the heat of the moment words come out that shouldn’t.

  I missed her terribly. Like I actually felt like there was a huge chunk missing. I missed her accent. I missed her scent, her smile, her dirty smirk; the one that could make me hard in 0.2 seconds. I missed her Britishisms. But I especially missed when we would go to sleep and wake up together. It would be rather me spooning her or her all over me, but either way, I was always comfortable and fell asleep like a baby. Having her wrapped around me was like heaven on earth.

  All in all, I just missed Lottie. Her presence calmed me, calmed my soul. I've never loved someone, as much as I love Lottie. No, that’s a lie. I've never loved anyone ever apart from Lottie. What I had, or what I thought I had with Lucy, I now know was just childish infatuation. Yes, she hurt me when she cheated, and now because of her I had some major trust issues. But I believe everything happens for a reason. Like how if she didn’t cheat on me, I wouldn’t have ended up fighting in that bar, and I wouldn’t have been told by the judge to go into the army. I wouldn’t have met Keller. I wouldn’t have met Lottie. And meeting Lottie was just the best thing since sliced bread.

  “How’re you doing back there, mate?” The taxi driver says to me, snapping me out from my thoughts, and I look up to him looking at me from the interior mirror before looking back at the road again.

  “Yes, I'm fine thank you,” I say back to him, giving him a small smile.

  “So… you here for business or pleasure?”

  “I'm here to surprise my girl.”

  “You a Yankee?”

  “Yep,” I say with a laugh. “I'm from New York City. My girlfriend is from London, and she’s come over here for business. But we had an argument before she left and I just wanted to come here and surprise her and to say sorry,” I tell him shrugging my shoulders.

  I hear him wince in sympathy. “Ah mate, that’s the worst thing; to be in the dog house with the missus. She’s a feisty one?” He asked, his dark bushy eyebrows lifting up with his question.

  I nod, Lottie feisty? Hell fucking yeah she is, and I loved that about her. “Yeah man, don’t think I've ever met a feistier woman.”

  “The feisty ones are the best ones. My wife’s like that. She’ll have me by the bollocks the moment I do something wrong. But, I wouldn’t change her for the world.”

  Agreeing with him, I sit back in my seat and relax for the rest of the journey.

  We reach the Hilton, and I pay the taxi driver his money, before turning and making my way into the hotel. I walk up the steps and nod in thanks to the doorman who opens the door for me to pass through.

  I look around and spot the reception area off to the left, and make my way there. Upon walking there, I notice the blonde receptionist eyeing me up.

  “Hello sir, welcome to the Hilton hotel, how may I help you?” She smiles a gleaming grin at me, looking me up and down, and not even trying to be subtle about it.

  “Hello,” I say back to her while giving her a bland smile. Sorry sweetheart I've already got a girlfriend, and she knocks you out of the park. “Yes, I was wondering if you could help me with something?” I ask her tilting my head to the left, and I watch as she copies my movement. I inwardly roll my eyes, but keep my ‘friendly’ smile on show. This woman was going to help me, and I didn’t think she would if I were a prick to her.

  “Yes, sir, sure, and what might that be?”

  “You see, my girlfriend is staying here and I forgot what room she said she’d be in, but she doesn’t know that I'm in London; it’s a surprise you see. I was just wondering if maybe you could help me out with that?”

  The second I said the word ‘girlfriend’ she scowled, her face shutting down when she realized that I wasn’t here for some fun and maybe a possible fuck from her. When I said Lottie did not know I was here and that it was a surprise, her eyes brightened up. She got a mushy look in her eye, looking at me like I was fucking Prince Charming or something. Whatever. Didn’t matter to me, so long as she gets me into Lottie's room.

  “That’s lovely!” She gushed, holding her hands together and sighing dreamily. Again I inwardly rolled my eyes at her. “Oh!” She gasped looking disappointed all of a sudden.

  “Oh? Oh, what?” This didn’t sound good, not at all…

  Wringing her hands together, she said the words I didn’t want to hear. “Unfortunately, it’s policy that we don’t tell people who are staying here. Confidentiality clause and all that… sorry, sir.” She looked almost as disheartened as I felt.

  “Shit!” I hissed into the palm of my hand. I looked up at her helplessly, “Is there no way, then?”

  Please let there be a way! Please let there be a way. Please…

  “There might be a way, but it might be difficult…” She says trailing off and looking unsure.

  “What? What is it, I'll do anything!” I say in a rush. I didn’t want to miss this opportunity. The only other thing I could think of was to ask… I look down at the blondes nametag, Sasha if she would call up to Lottie's room and ask her to come down to reception.

  Sasha grins and says, “The only person who has that sort of authority is the manager, Mr. Harrow. I could ring him and ask him to come down here if you want me to…?”

  Smiling, I could’ve reached over and kissed the woman– even though I would never do that. I told her in a rush, “Yes. Please do that. Thank you so much!”

  “No probs,” she says smiling back at me, picking the phone up and pressing some numbers and then she’s talking on the phone asking the manager if he could come down. “He’ll be down in a minute, sir.”

  “Thank you,” I breathe.

  Three minutes later, which actually felt like an hour, a man dre
ssed in a tailored black suit came walking through. He stopped when he was standing a couple of inches from me, nodding his head at me in hello, and then looking at Sasha and asking what was wrong.

  “This gentleman here, “ she says and points to me. “Well he’s here to surprise his girlfriend and he doesn’t know what number room she’s in, and he was wondering if you could tell him her room number.” Sasha relays my predicament to Mr. Harrow.

  He turns and faces me, and just by looking at his face I can tell that he wasn’t going to give me Lottie's door number. “I'm sorry sir, but it’s against hotel policy to give out that sort of information.”

  “No wait, please. I really want to see her, but I wanted to surprise her. Not call her up and tell her I'm downstairs. Please, I've just flown four thousand miles to come and see her. Endured one of the worst flights known to man with the roughest turbulence I've ever sat through, and I'm not gonna leave until I see Lottie!” I snap at the man, not meaning to, but after barely any sleep for the past couple of days, and running on just caffeine; it sort of wears a man down.

  But then I notice Mr. Harrow’s eyes change, brighten maybe? “Lottie? As in Miss Carter?”

  “Yes! You know her then?” I ask hopefully.

  “Why yes I do. Miss Carter is a character I can tell you that now, sir.”

  “Yes, she is,” I reply with a fond smile. “Was Hayley with her? Her Assistant?”

  “Oh yes, she is with her. It was only about twenty minutes ago that Miss Carter called down and asked if they could order some food to be delivered here. That’s not normally allowed to happen either. I don’t know what it is about her, but she somehow manages to get away anything she asks you to.” He says to me shaking his head ruefully.

  “Oh, don’t I know it,” I say and we both end up sharing the same knowing smile. Lottie just had this thing about her that let's her get away with anything. I think she’d be able to get away with murder charges if she wanted to. I look Mr. Harrow straight in the eye, and I'm not that much of a pussy to admit that I was willing to get on my knees and beg this man for her door number.