I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing as I stood there, gazing down at her. Willing her to see me. Really see me.
With a wave of sadness I stroked my fingers tenderly down her cheek. “But… I’m only sorry because I know you don’t feel the way I do. If I thought for a second you felt the same…”
A crease appeared in her brow again and shook her head. “I—I don’t understand.”
Why don’t you fucking understand? Why? I felt my jaw clenching over and over. “Mallory, do I have to spell it out for you? I’ve wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you in the pub. That’s why I was so angry and unpleasant. I was still grieving. I shouldn’t have felt that way, but I couldn’t help it.” Oh God, it’s out there now. No going back. Shit.
With a voice laced with sadness, she reminded me that I’d told her I was happy being just friends. She’s right. I did say that. I’m a lying arsehole. Her cheeks had flushed bright pink and I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around her and kiss her; but instead I tucked a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear.
“I tolerate being only friends. If I’m completely honest, I want more. Much more. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. Can’t you find room for me in your heart?” Please say yes. Please.
Her hands clenched and flexed beside her as if she was fighting with her feelings for me.
I willed her to just give in. I could see it… or something… in her eyes. I know she wanted me then. I know she did.
But in a small, fragile voice she said, “I can’t, Greg, it’s not right.” Her eyes closed and her chin tilted upwards. Her body was betraying the words she’d spoken. She was silently asking to be kissed—but I wouldn’t do it. Not like this. Not when she’d said no. I’m a man, not a fucking monster. Mixed in amongst the desire she clearly felt was fear.
Fear.
I’d made her afraid and it made me want to throw up. So much for not being a fucking monster. In that moment I hated myself.
Her eyes sprang open and she gazed up at me in confusion once again. “I know… You don’t have to worry, I won’t say anything again.” I was physically shaking with anger at myself and regret at my actions. I stepped away. “You’d maybe better go.” I could hear the edge in my voice and I knew she’d think I was angry at her, but I did nothing to stop it. It was maybe better this way.
“Greg, please, I’m still grieving. It’s too soon. Please don’t be upset with me. I couldn’t bear to lose you.” Her voice was wavering as she pleaded with me, and a sob broke free as she covered her mouth.
But like a heartless bastard I glared her at her coldly and with menace. “I am clearly not yours to lose, now am I? Just go.”
With a trembling lip and tears streaming down her face, she dashed to the door. But before she opened it, she turned to face me again. “Greg, you are my closest friend here. If I don’t have you, then I may as well go home, back to Yorkshire.”
And as one final, terminal blow, I stated, “I don’t do ultimatums.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Mallory sobbed as she ran to her car. It was as if she couldn’t get away from me fast enough, and I couldn’t blame her. I slammed my fist into the wall, causing pain to radiate up my arm and tears to spring from my eyes. What the fuck have I done? She was pretty much my only real friend and now she fucking hates me and I deserve it.
Hand throbbing, I glanced out the window again and realised she hadn’t left. Shit! Do I go out to her? Maybe if I explain… Explain what, you fucking prick? But as I deliberated, the engine of her little car roared to life and she sped off, spewing up a cloud of dust behind her. Oh, God, please let her drive carefully. I couldn’t bear it if… if what? If I lost her? I’d already managed to do that.
After everything she’d been through and after everything she’d done for me, how could I have been so fucking cruel? Maybe I was the bastard people usually took me for. Maybe eventually we become our reputations. Well, I was living up to mine now.
My mind began to torture me with memories of the selfless and thoughtful things she had done for me. The memorial, the chalkboard, just being a friend. God, the way she had looked that night at the beach. All I wanted to do was hold and kiss her, and at the time I felt guilty because I was there to say goodbye to Mairi. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised I couldn’t do anything to bring Mairi back. She was gone. I wanted Mallory to be my future, but I spoiled things at every possible opportunity.
Pacing up and down the room, I knew I had to do something. There was no way I could leave things as they were. She was special to me and I had to make her see that. I’d lied when I said I didn’t want to be friends. If that was all she had to offer me, then I’d take it. I’d grab it with both hands and cling on with all my might to whatever it was that meant she was still in my life. I couldn’t quite believe I’d been so fucking idiotic. What had I expected her to say really? She was faithful to Sam to the last, and it would be so very difficult for her to let anyone else in after suffering such a blow. How could I not fucking accept that?
Anger boiled beneath my skin and I wanted to smash things. I wanted to beat myself up. But there was no point in that. Doing that wouldn’t make things right. I stomped over to the stereo and hit the random selection. Maybe music would help me to calm down. Maynard Keenan’s voice floated through the air and into my auditory senses as he sang “3 Libras”. No two people interpreted lyrics the same, and I was pretty sure his rendition while he was part of A Perfect Circle was the most intriguing. As I listened I was struck once again by the way songs spoke to me. And a light bulb flicked on in my mind.
Music.
I would explain to her using music. And this was the perfect track to begin with. Grabbing a blank CD from the pile on the floor, I set up the system to transfer my selection onto a disc for Mallory. There were so many songs I could choose to express my feelings, but I had the perfect list in my mind and so I began.
“Walking After You” by the Foo Fighters came after “3 Libras”. I wanted her to know that I wouldn’t give up on her despite my stupid words. I would do everything I could to make up for my mistakes—and I’d made so many. But she needed to know I was sorry and that I wouldn’t let her go from my life so readily.
“How to Save a Life” by The Fray was the third track. Although I knew the story behind the lyrics for the track, I hoped she would read into them something more relevant to us. Something that let her know I wished I could go back in time and stop her suffering. Even if it meant her still being with Sam. All I wanted was her happiness. She had come along and saved me. I wanted to save her too.
Nickelback was a band that always managed to express deep emotions in its poetry, and “Far Away” was no different. I chose it as the fourth track. The song told her exactly how I felt in words that I could never find the courage to say myself. I was terrified she’d run away back to Yorkshire like she had threatened. I didn’t want the distance between us. I wanted her to stay here. Where her smile could brighten my day and where we could laugh and joke behind the bar like we used to. I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I listened to the words. I’d stopped worrying about wiping away the tears that came. I was alone and so what did it matter? I’d never been so fucking emotional. What she did to me…
Finally it had to be “The Reason” by Hoobastank. Honestly, the words could’ve been written by me for her. She couldn’t fail to understand what I was trying to communicate. I desperately hoped she would listen to the CD to the end. This track sent shivers down my spine. If there was a reason for me to change, she was it.
Once the CD was finished, I scribbled on it and stuck it in an envelope along with a note that read:
Mallory, once again I have proved myself unworthy of your friendship and most definitely of anything else. Since meeting you I appear to have lost the ability to communicate my feelings like an adult. In fact, I am not sure I ever could. I made you cry again, which makes me sick to my stomach. Please listen to the tracks on the CD. Hopefu
lly they will explain a lot better than I can. Your friend, always, Greg.
I grabbed my car keys and climbed into the Landy. I was debating whether to knock and hand it to her or just stick it through the letterbox. I decided on the latter, feeling that it was unlikely she would want to see me, let alone converse with me.
Pulling up outside her cottage, I took deep breaths to try and calm my jangling nerves. I’m doing the right thing here, aren’t I? Yes… yes, definitely. My heart thundered in my chest and I could hear the blood thrumming in my ears. I was pretty much on the verge of a fucking heart attack. I climbed out of the car and then stumbled over my own feet as I walked the short distance to the front door. As I stood there shaking, the hand holding the envelope hovering by the slot in the door, the rain began to fall. Glancing up at the sky, I allowed the cooling droplets to cover my skin. And with one final reaffirming breath I pushed the envelope inside and released it from my grip.
The deed was done. Now I had to wait. I returned home to Angus, who wagged his tail lazily as I walked in. Poor wee lad. I’d been a blubbering wreck all morning and we hadn’t even been out for a walk. I called to him and we set out. He covered twice my distance, running back and forth with his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Such an easy, carefree life.
When we arrived at the bridge over the Atlantic, I stopped and glanced toward Mallory’s cottage. I wondered what she was doing. Was she listening to the CD? The rain was getting faster now and I pictured her sitting there, listening and getting angrier and angrier at me for telling her how I felt through other people’s words. But I had no other choice.
Angus and I carried on walking for over an hour until we returned back home soaked to the skin. It was gone two and so I made myself a sandwich and proceeded to stare at it lying there on the plate. I couldn’t bring myself to eat. My stomach was in knots. Why hadn’t she called? Even if it was to tell me to fuck off. Had she gone already? Maybe the CD had pushed her over the edge and she’d gone back to Yorkshire after all.
Oh, God, I couldn’t bear it.
At least Angus enjoyed the beef sandwich I’d made. He licked his lips and drooled all over the kitchen floor as I broke it up and fed it to him. Once he’d finished, I scratched his head and he followed me through to the lounge, where I switched on the TV. There was some chat show on about unrequited love… switched that off… a news report about emigration… switched that off… a romantic film where you just knew the guy would get the girl. Fuck! The TV was not an option. I drummed my fingers on the sofa and glanced at the clock once again. Almost four and no word.
I stood with determination and walked over and hit play on my own copy of the CD I had made. I had to check that I hadn’t given her the wrong impression in my choices. But as I listened, the tears overspilled my sore eyes once again, trailing damp lines down my face that leaked into my mouth. I could taste the salt where it rested.
I had to go to her.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The rain was really hammering down and even though I’d dried out in the house from my earlier jaunt, as soon as I walked to my car again I was completely soaked. The water felt soothing as it seeped through my clothing and I stood there, head toward the heavens, and let myself be cleansed.
After I had parked the car outside the pub—so as not to alert Mallory to my presence in case she decided not to let me in—I jogged down to her cottage. I hammered on the door, stepped back, and waited. I could hear music coming from inside.
Shit. She’s listening to the CD now.
The door flung open and there she stood, my beautiful friend, her red-rimmed eyes brimming with tears ready to join the ones already leaving damp trails down her face. My God, even in a state of raw emotion she was stunning.
“I couldn’t wait any longer. It’s been hours. I was scared you’d packed up and gone.” Without giving her time to protest, I stepped into the cottage and swept her up into my arms as “The Reason” played in the background. She had listened all the way to the end. Thank you, God.
Pulling away slightly, I kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I murmured. I expected her to push me away; but instead she pulled me closer despite my sodden clothing.
She eventually pulled away and gazed up into my eyes. “Don’t hurt me like that again, Greg, please.” She said I looked at her with hate. But she was so wrong.
Taking her face in my trembling hands, I stared deeply into her glistening blue eyes. “I could never hate you. It’s me that I hate. I’ll never, ever be so stupid again, I promise. I’m such an idiot. I care about you so much. I would never want to hurt you, ever. I just don’t know what else to do, Mallory. I… I love you so much… I don’t care anymore if it’s wrong… All I care about is you. If friends are what we are, then that’s what we are. I’ll get used to it, I promise I will.” Oh, fuck it, I’m rambling like an idiot. I pulled her into my arms again. “I can’t be without you in my life. I said some terrible things. Can you forgive me? The songs were meant to make you understand, not make you cry.” Taking her face between my hands once again, I paused for breath, my chest heaving. I caught her tears and wiped them away. “I want to kiss you so badly right now…” Whoops. “Oh, God, I just said that out loud, didn’t I?” I closed my eyes and waited for the fallout.
She pulled me down so that my forehead rested and on hers. “So do it.”
Huh? Great, now my mind’s playing fucking tricks on me. “What?”
“Kiss me, Greg.”
With a strangled sound releasing from my throat, I crushed my lips against hers, slipped my hands into her hair, and grasped at her, not quite believing this was happening. She tasted so good. This has to be a cruel dream. It has to be. But I didn’t dare break the spell as my tongue wrapped around hers in a magical, sensual dance of love. Because despite trying to fight it, that was what it was for me.
Love.
She gripped my shoulders and tugged at my hair as if she couldn’t get close enough. I wanted her. Desperately. But I was terrified of ruining things, so I pulled away and we both gasped for breath. My gaze flicked from her eyes down to her swollen lips.
She placed a hand on either side of my face and peered into my eyes and into my soul. “Greg… I do see you.” My heart skipped when I heard her chosen words. The meaning was loud and clear to me and I knew she was referring to a line in “3 Libras”. Knowing that she had listened so intently and heard exactly what I was trying to convey had me taking her mouth once again in another delicious, deep kiss.
~~~
We eventually moved over to the couch and sat snuggled together. Just the feel of her so close to me filled me with something I can only describe as elation.
This was it. This was us.
Well, we were close to becoming an us. But I wasn’t going to rush it. I had to make sure things were going at her pace. And there was no rush needed anyway. If I had my way, we’d have all the time in the world to discover each other. Right at that very moment all’s I wanted to do was to kiss and hold her and relish in the closeness of her body to mine. Every so often she gazed up at me and I kissed her head or her nose. I could hardly believe this was happening, and the tiny seed of useless hope I’d had all along began to grow inside of me as the possibility of a future with this amazing woman became tangible. We mostly sat in silence and I stroked my fingers up and down her arm, loving how her skin quivered beneath my touch. Admittedly there was nothing I wanted more than to carry her up the stairs to her bedroom, lay her down, and make love to her all night, but I had to keep calm and know that those things would happen. I just had to be patient.
But my God, patience was something I would struggle with. I knew this just by the way my body reacted to her every sigh or movement where our bodies touched so innocently. Thinking back, I tried to remember when I’d last had this feeling of desperation to claim someone as my own. To make the most of every single second. Had I felt this way with Mairi? Maybe I had, but I couldn’t bring it to
mind. This all felt so new. So necessary. It wasn’t just a feeling of lust. As I trailed my gaze over her relaxed features, I was overcome by a sense of need.
I needed her.
Fuck.
The realisation both excited and terrified me. I was a fiercely independent man. In fact my independence verged on the antisocial but here I was desperate to not be alone for once, with this gorgeous, caring, sexy woman in my arms; and I was having to fight my masculine, caveman-like urges to make her mine, waiting to be fucking damned. What if she suddenly realised she’d made a mistake? Fuck, I’d fall apart, I just knew it. I tenderly stroked my hand down her cheek, and she closed her eyes as she nuzzled even closer.
She dozed off in my arms and I watched her sleeping for about an hour, taking the time to study her face and neck, the curve of her breasts and the sweep of her waist. I wasn’t helping myself on the taking-it-slow front and I was relieved when she awoke. She apologised for being asleep but I told her I’d enjoyed looking at her. It was true.
Her gaze flicked around the room and she knotted her fingers in her lap. “So… what happens now?”
Pulling her close, I cupped her cheek. “Well, that’s up to you. We take things at your pace. When you feel you want to move forward, we do, until then it’s whatever you want it to be.”
Biting her lip, she confessed, “I… I’m scared of making huge mistakes… I’m scared of being judged… I’m scared of judging myself and being disappointed that I didn’t give myself time.”
“Then time is what you’ll have. Mallory, earlier today was… I felt so happy just being with you. Kissing you was… wow… not what I expected. I’m so terrified you’ll regret it and that’s why I didn’t try to…” I hoped she knew what I meant when my words trailed off.
Her lips turned up in a sweet smile. “I know, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciated that.” She sat upright, trailing her gaze over my face, and her cheeks flushed.
Bridge of Hope Page 20