by E. S. Carter
So instead of being backstage where Mum, Max and sometimes even Rhys can be found, I mingle with the masses and watch the boy that once ate my kale because I hated it so much, as he mesmerises crowds of thousands.
Sometimes I hear bits of conversations about who he’s seeing now, and whether Mum or Max thinks this new guy could be the one. But I mostly block it out.
When I turned seventeen, Galen left instructions for me to receive his old car as he no longer needed it on the road.
I went out, and with the help of Dad and my savings, bought an equally crappy car. But it was mine. It held no memories of him.
And that is the car I’m using to drive home.
The traffic is heavy as I cross the Severn Bridge back into Wales—the land of my fathers—and I decide to pull in at the next services to grab a drink and stretch my legs.
That’s where I fall at the feet—literally—of, quite possibly, the only man that has caught my attention since… yeah, since him.
“Hey, shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left my duffle bag against the wall where I thought nobody was going to fall over it.” The guy with the jet-black hair laughs and helps me to my feet.
“Yeah, uh, I’m a klutz,” I reply, double thumb pointing myself as if he wouldn’t realise who the ‘I’m’ in my sentence is referring to.
He smiles. It’s broad and white and dazzles against his darkly tanned skin.
“Alexis,” he offers, extending his hand. “Can I grab you a coffee?”
I look from his long, thick fingers tipped with perfectly shaped nails, up to his wrist adorned with an expensive looking watch, and my eyes still on his muscular, veined forearms.
What was the question again?
Uh, I am not that girl.
I shake my head lightly and bring my gaze up to his face. His lightly stubbled, square-jawed, ridiculously handsome face, with its strong, straight nose, defined cheekbones and melted honey-brown eyes.
“No,” I reply flatly, and I see a flicker of amusement pass over that too handsome face. “But you can grab me a tea. Strong, with a dash of skimmed milk, no sugar.”
I ignore his hand and sidestep past him towards the amenities.
“Oh, and Alexis,” I say over my shoulder. “I’ll tell you my name if you throw in a blueberry muffin and a genuine apology.”
Then, I round the corner and slip into the ladies’ room, not expecting him to be there waiting for me when I come out. It was a brief but fun interlude to break up my drive home before I get bombarded with news about Galen.
I do my business, take my time checking my reflection in the mirror and head back outside, and I struggle to hide my surprise when I find Alexis waiting for me with a to-go cup of tea and a bagged blueberry muffin.
“My deepest and most sincere apologies…”
“Fflur.”
Most people struggle with the pronunciation of my name if they aren’t Welsh, thinking it’s said the French way like FLEUR, when actually, it’s more like FLEER, with the r on the end rolled into a soft burr.
Alexis repeats it back perfectly as if it was made to fall from his lips, and it’s enough to have me almost inviting him home with me.
Almost. Because, yeah, the Galen thing.
Not that I haven’t had a few hook-ups in uni, but I haven’t had many hook-ups.
“Where are you heading, Fflur?” he asks while I stand before him semi-stupefied.
“Home,” I offer simply, not bothering to ask the same of him.
“Well,” he says with another one of those smiles before reaching down to scoop up his bag. “If home is anywhere near your beautiful capital city, I’d love to buy you a tea again sometime soon.”
“It’s close,” I say with my own smile, before taking a sip of my hot tea, and if possible, his grin becomes even brighter.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Over six months ago, I fell at Alexis’ feet.
Now we’re driving to spend Christmas with my family.
Most of our relationship has been long distance—I’m in uni in Birmingham, and Alexis’ works in Cardiff—but things are good between us. Great, even.
Which is why he’s coming home with me for Christmas.
Home, where he’ll get to meet Dad and Kate, Mum and Max, Rhys and… Erin—yes my best friend Erin—who have recently announced they are dating, and Galen and whoever the hell he decides to bring home this year.
It should be a real test of our relationship. Alexis—older than me by five years, successful, and from a typical middle-class family—will get to meet everyone in my dysfunctional one.
And to make matters worse, I haven’t told him even a fraction of our family history, only that my parents split up over ten years ago.
We pull up in front of Rhys’ new place—a small two-bed house in the same village we grew up—to give him a ride over to Mum’s. He called me yesterday and asked if I wouldn’t mind swinging by to give him a lift because his car decided to die a few days earlier. He hasn’t met Alexis, and I’ve yet to see him and Erin together.
I stretch across to hit Alexis’ car horn for the third time when Rhys’ front door finally opens, and Erin steps out. She looks nervous to see me, and not just because she’s a naturally shy girl but because she kept her relationship with my brother a secret from me for a few weeks before confessing.
Rhys follows her out a few seconds later, kisses her sweetly on the side of her head, and then closes and locks the front door. Then he chivalrously takes the overnight bag from her hand and carries it to the car.
Who is this thoughtful man, and what has he done with my brother?
“Hi,” Erin says timidly, as she slides into the backseat of Alexis’ Land Rover. “Thanks for giving us a lift.”
Rhys closes her car door before throwing their bags into the boot and sliding in next to her on the opposite side.
“Hey, Fflur, and hey, Fflur’s bloke. Sorry, mate, I’ve forgotten your name.”
I twist around in my seat to glare at my brother, and he gives me a shit-eating grin. “What? I said hello before I asked for his name.”
“You know his name,” I warn. I told him when he called yesterday that we’d collect him in Alexis’ car. He’s being a twat for no other reason than shits and giggles.
Alexis places his hand on my knee and squeezes, drawing my gaze back to him. The smile on his face is full of humour.
“Hey, Rich, the names Alexis. Don’t mind your sister. She’s a bit stressed about Christmas.”
I shake my head and give him a rueful smile while Rhys groans from the backseat and says, “Well played, mate. The name’s Rhys, but I bet you know that.”
I hear Erin softly laugh before Rhys adds, “Just wait until Gal and Max meet you. If you think I’m a joker, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
Galen. I doubt he’d even care that this is the first time I’ve brought someone home.
We’re staying with Mum and Max for Christmas and Dad and Kate for New Year. When Alexis pulls up outside Mum’s, she’s already waiting in the doorway for us, and I spot an expensive looking sports car on the drive behind the others.
He’s already here. Will he be alone?
I close my eyes and push those thoughts away. I shouldn’t care either way. I’m here with Alexis. Generous, kind, successful, put together, thoughtful and beyond hot, Alexis. He’s all I should be thinking about.
Alexis fits into our family like he was always meant to be here. He gets Max’s jokes, he’s completely wooed Mum, and Rhys is impressed that he owns a successful sports management company, and proceeds to talk his ear off about all things sporty. The only one who hasn’t welcomed him—has barely looked in his direction let alone spoken to him—is Galen.
If I were to be spiteful, I’d say he’s upset that the spotlight is off him for once, but I know Galen, and I know it’s not that at all.
This time, he didn’t bring anyone home for Christmas. Where there was previously a merry-go-round of men t
o flaunt in front of me, this time he’s come home alone.
“I can’t quite believe I’m having fish and chips with a bona fide rock star,” Alexis says, as we all begin to tuck into our standard Christmas Eve meal. Every year, Max drives out to Mum’s favourite chip shop two villages over, and we all stuff our faces with the best of British takeaway.
Galen snorts in reply, and stands to grab another bottle of beer from the sideboard.
“Nah,” Rhys replies to Alexis, oblivious of the rising tension and with a mouthful of crispy batter. “He’s not a rock star here. He’s just Gal, and he still can’t kick my arse on Call Of Duty.” He stabs a chip with his fork and looks up at Alexis. “Do you play?”
Alexis brings a hand under the table and links it with mine, giving it a light squeeze. “Nah, not since I was a kid.”
“Rhys is the eternal big kid,” Erin pipes up, and Rhys looks at her in mock affront.
“Hey, now. That wasn’t what you told me was big last night.”
Erin turns puce, and we all try not to laugh at her expense, but Rhys quickly soothes her embarrassment with a kiss on the cheek, and a quiet, “I love you, babe. You can call me and any part of my body whatever you want.”
The show of affection wasn’t meant for everyone’s ears, but Alexis and I both hear it all the same, and he squeezes my hand once more.
I wonder if he’s contemplating why I haven’t said the L word yet. He’s told me numerous times the last few weeks, but I haven’t said it back. Not once.
Watching him as he effortlessly embraces my family should only increase my need to reciprocate his feelings because he’s been so easily accepted by them. Shouldn’t that make me want to take this to the next level? Commit beyond long-distance calls and the occasional weekends away.
The rest of the evening passes in much the same way. Lots of drinking, lots of talking, lots of time for everyone to catch up on all the things that are going on in each other’s lives.
Galen shares a little about what he has scheduled for the following year, Rhys surprises everyone by asking Erin to move in with him—and she accepts—and Mum and Max drop their own bombshell over after dinner drinks.
“Since you’re all home, and everyone we love is in one room for a change, we thought this would be the best time to tell you guys—”
“We’re getting married,” Mum interrupts before launching herself into Max’s lap.
Everyone cheers, and Rhys is the one to instigate a full family pile-on with Max and Mum at the bottom of the pile, and me sandwiched between Rhys and Galen. For that one, brief moment, everything is right with the world. There’s no awkwardness between us, and when my eyes land on Galen’s he smiles a smile that both hurts me and heals me. It’s conflicted, filled with both love and happiness for his father and my mother, and tainted with the unhealed wounds from what we can never be.
After hugs and congratulations all round, Galen slips from the room and doesn’t come back.
Christmas morning is filled with a renewed sense of joy.
Mum and Max are still basking in their announcement, Rhys and Erin are so loved up it’s almost vomit-inducing, and Alexis seems to be soaking up all the excess emotions because he’s more attentive and affectionate towards me than ever. And that’s saying something because Alexis doesn’t hide his feelings; he wears them for all to see like a badge of pride.
Galen joins in but is obviously hungover, and everyone gives him a free pass when he claims overtiredness from his nonstop schedule. He gives both Alexis and me a wide berth, and as much as it hurts, it’s probably for the best.
So, I’m surprised when he suddenly jumps at Mum’s request to play something for us all. One moment Mum mentions how wonderful it would be to hear him sing, the next we’re all sat waiting for a private show from Definition’s star front man.
“Wow,” Alexis whispers in my ear as Galen sets himself up. “This is something to tell our grandkids, hey.”
Chills skitter over my skin. The way he said it both in awe of Galen and inferring that we’re together for the long-haul, is enough to have me flinch away from him when he casually rests his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side.
Galen briefly tunes his guitar and immediately launches into I’ll Stand By You which he sings to Max and Mum. His voice is even richer than the last time he sang this for them all those years ago, and I close my eyes and let the sound wash over me, a slideshow of images from my childhood playing behind my lids.
The song ends, and everyone whoops and hollers, giving him a round of applause. Mum sniffs, and openly wipes the tears from her eyes, her grin wide and full of love and pride for the boy before her.
“Play another,” Rhys yells. “Play the one that was in the charts.”
Everyone laughs at that because there hasn’t been a single song by Galen’s band that hasn’t taken the charts by storm—even their debut went top ten.
Galen obliges and plays Eyes That Lie, their first number one hit. It’s a song about believing someone you love because the truth hurts more than the lies.
Without waiting for another request, he ends that song, takes a sip of his drink, and begins to play a slow, acoustic version of Nothing Compares 2 U.
His eyes remain closed for the entire song. Each word, and each note laced with a depth of emotion that is impossible not to feel deep into the marrow of your bones. On the final word, his eyes flutter open slowly and land directly on me.
Everything stops.
Life. The World. My heart. Me.
“Wow. That was a-mazing,” Alexis exclaims at my side, breaking the silence in the room. “Fflur,” he says, tugging me closer, his mouth close to my cheek, his breath puffing over my skin. “Your brother is beyond talented.”
Brother. That word. That fucking word.
I don’t reply. I can’t reply because I can’t trust my emotions right now. Instead, I sit, curled into Alexis’ side, and I don’t move until it’s time for bed.
“Anyone for poker?” Rhys calls, shuffling a deck of cards just before midnight.
Max yawns and stretches. “I’m too old to stay up this late,” he announces before winking at Mum. “And so is your mother, so I’m taking my wife-to-be to bed.”
“TMI, Max,” Rhys groans. “T-M-I.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, child,” Mum responds, her face stern until her eyebrows lift in a waggle, and she laughs like a banshee as Max lifts her off her feet and carries her up the stairs like a new bride. He complains the entire way that his back will pay for this romantic gesture, and Mum’s tipsy laughter can be heard right until their bedroom door closes.
“Alexis, you’re up for a game, aren’t you?”
I stand from the sofa, stretching my body before leaning down to whisper over my boyfriend’s lips, “Play poker with him, or he’ll sulk like a baby.”
“Will you be asleep by the time I come upstairs or are you going to wait up for me?” he asks with a sultry smile, before gently nipping at my lips.
“Oh, I’ll be asleep, snoring and likely drooling over your side of the bed.”
I give him a big smacker on the lips, and he makes me yelp when he smacks my arse as I walk away, muttering, “Minx,” under his breath.
Alexis is happy we’re sharing a bed while we stay here but less happy that I’ve put him on a sex ban.
I’m not doing the dirty with Alexis in my childhood bed. My parents are here. Rhys is here. Galen is here.
It’s not happening, even if he can’t understand why.
As I round the top of the stairs and head towards my old bedroom, I see the door to the TV room cracked open. My head tells me to walk straight by, but my heart tells me to go inside.
For once, I listen to my head. My heart has no place when it comes to Galen. Even after all this time, it will always call to him.
Tired, a little drunk from all the alcohol we’ve shared tonight and a touch overemotional after Galen’s performance, I just want to crawl
into bed and sleep it all off. Tomorrow is a new day.
I grab my wash bag from my case and make my way back towards the bathroom. After living away from home for so long, it’s weird to come back here and have everything look the same as it was before, but not feel the same.
None of my stuff lines the bathroom shelves, my toothbrush doesn’t sit in the holder. It’s the same, and yet different.
With a sigh, I turn to lock the bathroom door, and almost scream when I see Galen already standing in the doorway.
“Shh,” he urges, taking a step into the room and closing and locking the door behind him. His eyes are red-rimmed and bloodshot, his gaze unsteady, and when he leans back against the closed door, he almost stumbles into the bath.
“Galen,” I say calmly, keeping my tone flat, lifeless. “I’m trying to wash and change. Can you wait a second? I’ll be out in a minute.”
He’s obviously drunk, and the last thing I want is to have a scene with him now. Anyone could hear, and I’m not sure I’d be able to stop if I started.
He takes a deep, uneven inhale, shakes his head slowly and breathes out, “Fflur.”
“What, Gal?” I ask. My bare feet are cold on the tiled floor, and the feeling helps keep me grounded because having him this close and saying my name like that is almost too much for me to take. “What do you want from me?”
“I just wanted to say—” he takes another unsteady breath. “—to wish you a Merry Christmas.”
I take a step towards him and motion at the door for him to leave as I say, “Thanks, Gal. Merry Christmas to you too. Now, if you could just—”
“I can’t stop thinking about how we used to talk for hours and hours, or even the times we’d be together in silence. When did all that change, Fflur? I wish we could get that back.” His weary eyes find mine. “I wish we could—”
“We can’t, Gal. We can’t,” I interrupt him, my eyes closing so that I don’t have to look directly into his that, right now, seem like they open up to the bottom of his soul.