Not The One (London Lovers #4)

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Not The One (London Lovers #4) Page 23

by Amy Daws


  The past couple weeks with Liam have been incredible. I didn’t know a healthy relationship could feel this good. Making love to him and not feeling a self-hatred blanket over me when we finish is doing loads for my self-esteem. Even Miguel agrees that Liam is definitely having a positive influence on me and my ability to open up. I’m making strides I didn’t even know I could make. And it’s all because of this glorious man.

  “We’re already official. I’m yours, Liam. Always.”

  He kisses my nose sweetly, “Don’t you forget it.”

  A short while later we’re standing in front of the Brixton Mansion. The green ivy wrapping around the purple door is just beginning to show signs of summer coming to an end. Liam’s firm grip on my hand is welcomed as he knocks on the door.

  Suddenly, the door flies open and my eyes land on Frank, dressed head to toe in a red onesie pajama set. With footies and all.

  “Oxfords!” Frank shrieks loudly and throws his arms out wide, welcoming us inside. He nudges me playfully. “I can call you both Oxford now that I know you both attended! I had no idea until a few days ago!”

  Liam’s chest rumbles with laughter. “Frank! As always, you look—”

  “Ridiculous,” I finish truthfully, eyeing Frank’s gelled hair that’s sticking straight up. Because apparently the childlike pajamas weren’t enough, he had to do something extra special to his wild, red hair.

  Frank’s eyes turn to slits as he pins me with an intimidating glower. Well, he’s attempting to be intimidating, I think. “And the all black look on you, Oxford. Did you select that because it matches your soul?”

  I smirk and take a step closer to Frank, matching his glower with one of my own. “My soul is rainbow fucking bright and I still wouldn’t be caught dead in what you’re wearing.”

  Completely unoffended by my comment—as I knew he would be—Frank’s glower morphs to excitement as he says, “Wait til you see the back and you’ll really have a laugh.” Frank turns and reveals the scripty text.

  “OCD.” And beneath it in small letters it reads, “Obsessive Cumming Disorder,” I say it out loud and Liam’s arm wraps around my waist for support as we both crack up laughing. Frank turns to look at us, a triumphant grin on his face.

  “Leslie has a cheetah print one in her room if you want to borrow it!” Finley’s voice chimes in as she comes striding out from the living room hallway. She’s dressed in a teal onesie just like Frank’s.

  “Um, I think we’re good,” I say looking back to Liam whose eyes are twinkling with amusement.

  “Yeah, best to ease into it,” he whispers playfully in my ear and drops a soft kiss on my cheek.

  “If I have to wear one, so should they,” Brody groans, following in Finley’s footsteps. His tall, broad frame is clad in a matching black onesie of his own. I’m surprised they make them big enough for him.

  “Oh my God, I feel like we’ve entered an alternate universe!” I exclaim, laughing heartily and glancing back at Liam who doesn’t seem all that surprised.

  “Come on, let’s go find a flick,” Frank says, pulling me by the arm into the living room. “And don’t worry, Oxford…Mitch and Julie don’t have onesies either, so you won’t look like total prats.”

  Two weeks later, I’m at Club Taint, sitting at Lariza’s desk, proofing a series of print ads we have going out in the mail when I get a call on my cell. It’s from an unknown number, so I screen it and continue working. A second later it dings with a voicemail notification.

  I pull up the message and press my phone to my ear.

  “Hiya, Rey, it’s Hayden. I’m uh…out…which I’m sure you already know. Listen, I’m sorry for not getting in touch with you sooner. I’d love to see you today if you have time. It’s important. I’m in London for the day, so give me a call or text me. Cheers.”

  The message ends and my heart lurches at the familiar gravelly tone to his voice. Dread and nerves wash over me at what he might want to talk about. I know from Daphney that he’s moved back in with his parents in Essex for the time being and he’s working at his dad’s furniture distribution center. From what I know, he’s doing well. How will this meeting affect his healing? How could it affect my own? I’ve been doing so well in my relationship with Liam and my sessions with Miguel. Am I strong enough for this?

  I wish Frank was here, but he hasn’t been around much since Lariza got back. And Lariza is up front training a new hire at the moment. Without thinking, I pick my phone up and dial Liam. I manage to squeak out what Hayden’s message said and before I can finish, he says he’s on his way to Club Taint to see me.

  When he appears in the doorway, relief washes over me. “Hey, are you alright?” he asks, striding over to me and pulling a chair up beside where I’ve been frozen and staring at the same graphic for the past twenty minutes. He’s dressed in smart gray slacks and a button down and looks like home to me. I’ve gotten so used to those dress slacks rumpled on the floor of my flat for the past month.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, Liam. Why wouldn’t I be?” I roll my eyes like he’s being dramatic, but in reality I know he’s seeing right through me.

  He spins my chair so that I’m facing him, his legs on the outside of mine. His brown eyes are wide and piercing. “Rey, if you don’t want to see him, you don’t have to.”

  I frown. “How can I not, Liam? We were best friends and he tried to kill himself the night we had a fight. I think I owe him a chat.”

  He puckers his lips out in defiance. “I don’t like it. I don’t like seeing you get worked up. I can tell this is rattling you.”

  “I’m not that fragile, Liam. I can handle it.” I reach out to muss his hair in playful reassurance.

  His jaw muscle ticks nervously as he exhales and says, “I can’t lose you again, Rey.”

  My mouth drops into an O. I grab his face in my hands and look him in the eyes, “Liam! I’m not going anywhere. I’m just trying to help a friend.”

  He twitches his jaw from side to side as he stares down at my lips. “He’s a hot button for me, Rey. I can’t help it. He was there for you when I wanted to be and I bloody hate him for it.”

  “Liam,” I groan. “I love you. I’ve loved you for so long. Nothing is changing that.”

  He nods nervously and I pull him into a tight hug. I think Liam came here for himself just as much as he came here for me. But in reality, I know he has nothing to worry about. This will be fine. I will be fine.

  I text Hayden back that I can meet today and we arrange to find each other at Battersea Park on a bench overlooking the River Thames. It’s a quiet park with fewer tourists and less of the London hustle and bustle.

  After a few minutes, I finally see Hayden walking in my direction. I instantly jump to my feet, nervously jamming my hands into the back of my jeans, nervously. My eyes take in every part of his appearance as he approaches without seeing me yet. He’s dressed in a pair of comfortable jeans and a black T-shirt. His dirty blond hair is shaggier and in definite need of a cut. His chin is covered in a trim, dark beard. When his eyes finally find me, I can’t stop myself. I rush over and hug him, burying my face in his chest. The familiar scent of cigarettes washes over me and I relish in seeing him again. I can’t believe it’s been six weeks.

  I feel a slight hesitation before his arms tighten around my waist and then he hugs me back. He pulls away and his hard gray eyes are wide and blinking quickly as he nervously looks me up and down. “It’s good to see you, Rey. You look good.”

  I laugh haphazardly. I’m still in my black skinnies and Taint tank, but it’s nice of him to say so. “So do you,” I lie. He doesn’t look good, but he looks alive and that’s good enough for me right now.

  “You want to sit?” he asks, gesturing back toward the bench where I had been waiting for him. I nod silently and follow him over. He turns to face me, resting one leg up on the open space between us. I can tell this is hard for him.

  “How have you been? Daphney says you’re working for your
dad? That’s great, Hayden.”

  He smiles sadly and then replies, “It’s not great, but it’s what’s best for me right now. You’re still at the club, I see?” He gestures to my shirt.

  I nod, “Yeah, I’m doing more marketing now than bartending, but it’s also what’s best for me.”

  He licks his lips and exhales heavily, “Rey, I don’t want to small talk anymore. I have a lot to say and I think it’s best if I just get it out before I lose my nerve.”

  “Alright.”

  “First, I need you to know that I’m so sorry for going AWOL on you and not including you in on my recovery. I just couldn’t have you there. I couldn’t have you seeing me that way.”

  My chin trembles at the pain in his eyes. “I understand.”

  “I also need you to know that what I did…it wasn’t premeditated. It wasn’t your fault. That night I came to your flat and we got into that fight about Marisa and everything else. I just…I wasn’t coping. I was avoiding. I was running. It wasn’t right. I could feel myself doing it—being completely self-destructive—but I couldn’t stop it. It was like this sickness that I was powerless against.”

  My eyes threaten to shed tears, but I force myself to hold it back and listen. Hearing him say Marisa’s name without flinching is a massive feat in and of itself. And so much of what he is saying are things I’ve worked through on my own with Miguel.

  “I just got overwhelmed,” he continues, looking away. “After Marisa’s death, the darkness that I was living in became home for me. It became the new normal for me and my family. Maybe even you,” he clears his throat and looks back at me. “Then you started showing signs of wanting things to change between us. You said you weren’t pulling away, but you were. Not that I blame you. It was necessary. What we were doing with each other wasn’t healthy.”

  I swallow hard as the bleak memories of our time together fall over me. “I’m so sorry, Hayden.”

  He shakes me off dismissively and continues, looking out at the river instead of at me, “Then Theo met Leslie and started showing signs of change, too. It seemed like everyone was getting better except me. I started to feel like I was living every day feeling like I was getting left behind.” He exhales a shaky breath. “So I thought, if I’m getting left behind, then no one will care if I’m gone.”

  “God, Hayden. That’s so not true.” I reach out to touch his arm and he rests his hand on top of my hand and squeezes it while turning his watery gray eyes on me.

  “I know that now, Rey. It was stupid because I was blaming everyone else for my problems. I learned a lot in that facility and with the family therapy sessions. I was in denial about my suicide attempts before. I pretended I just overindulged, but I knew what I was doing.” He clears his throat loudly.

  “I’m glad you got help. I’ve been getting help, too. I’ve been seeing a therapist and I’m learning a lot about myself.”

  He nods nervously. “That’s good. I want that for you, Rey. I want you happy and healthy, too. But, I also just want to explain why I’ve been avoiding you. After everything we’ve suffered through together, you deserve to know the truth.”

  My brows rise in wonder as Hayden pins me with a serious expression that scares me. “The truth is, Rey, I was falling in love with you. That entire year we were together wasn’t just sex to me. I was so in love with you. Every time we were intimate, I would imagine saying the words to you, but I could never get the courage to do it. I was too much of a bloody mess.”

  My jaw drops. Of everything I thought we’d discuss today, this was not on my list. I suspected his feelings for me had changed towards the very end. Especially when he showed signs of jealousy when Liam showed up. A sick part of me hoped it was because of Liam’s connection to Marisa. Not love! Tears well in my eyes at the pained look in his expression. The last thing I want to do is hurt Hayden even more than I already have.

  “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” I croak tearfully.

  “You never dropped your guard with me, Rey. You never gave me any glimmer that you felt for me what I felt for you. And I was just so fucked up. So I kept it bottled up along with all my other shite. But you’re the one that I love, Rey. I still love you.” He stops talking and hunches over, resting his arms on his legs and refusing to look at me.

  My voice is shaky when I speak, “Hayden.” I want to reach out and hold him, but I know I shouldn’t.

  After a moment, he adds, “That’s why I couldn’t see you at the hospital after I did what I did. I couldn’t let you see me like that.” He shakes his head sadly. “But then…you moved on.”

  I purse my lips and tilt my head, stifling a sob over his sad expression. “Hay, I never knew. I mean…we’ve been calling each other best friends for a while but…we know nothing about each other. Not truly. Do you see that?” He looks at me from the corner of his eye and nods subtly. “The only real thing we knew about each other was our pain.”

  He turns to face me again, grabbing my hands with his. He brings them to his mouth and drops a soft kiss on the tops of both of them. “I know, Rey. I also know that if we did have a relationship it would only be a constant reminder of our pain.” He releases my hands and faces forward again. “But I have to know. This will eat me alive for as long as I live. If I would have seen you that day at the hospital…or asked you to come see me in rehab…and told you the truth. Do you think we could have had a chance?” His expression is cautious as he turns to look at me again.

  I bite my lip and release it slowly before replying, “I’m not sure what to even say to that, Hayden.”

  His hopeful eyes darken and he plasters on a fake smile. Nodding stoically, he says, “Don’t say anything then. What you’ve said is plenty. I know you’ve moved on. I just couldn’t live without at least asking.” He swallows nervously. “And we’re okay, Rey. I’m not angry or upset. But, you know it won’t ever be the same between us, right? I don’t think I can watch you with him.”

  Two errant tears escape and slide silently down my cheeks. I nod and croak, “Why does this feels like goodbye, Hayden?”

  His chin trembles slightly as he watches a tear drift down my cheek. “Not goodbye, Rey Rey. Just ‘See ya later,’” he shrugs.

  Sniffing, I whisper, “I’m going to miss you.”

  His voice is hoarse as he replies, “I’d be crazy not to miss you.”

  For the purpose of being completely honest and transparent with Liam, I tell him about my entire conversation with Hayden. Even down to Hayden’s true feelings for me. He was decidedly upset at first, but then said he already knew. In the end, opening up to him about it only reassured him more how utterly and completely in love with him I am.

  It crushes me to know that my friendship with Hayden is over. But, I get it. We were such darkness together that remaining close would only drag us down.

  My only hope is that he can continue to heal and find someone who can help him the way Liam has helped me these past few months we’ve been together now. Liam’s helpfulness has lovingly pushed me so far that I now find myself sitting cozily next to my mother on a cream colored loveseat, shooting daggers at a dimple-sporting Spaniard who calls himself Miguel. He smiles kindly at me in a way that says he knows I don’t want to do this, but that I know that I have to.

  “So, Dr. Miller, Reyna and I have done a lot of discussing about her childhood these past few months. The biggest hurdle that I would love to help you two overcome is in finding a delicate balance in your communication. I understand your desire and your extensive knowledge in seeing Reyna for the miracle that she is. She is extremely special. But, the way in which you idealize her does not work for Reyna. Instead, she responds better—more positively—to a more transparent trueness.”

  “Okay,” my mother says, smiling brightly at the doctor like he just told her to keep doing exactly what she’s always done.

  He smiles knowingly. “Reyna, at this time, I would like you to address your mother with some of the concerns that I told
you to write down and we can go from there. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I reply turning to my mom to look into her clear blue eyes. Clearing my throat, I dig out the piece of paper and begin reading, “Mom, I feel bad for a lot of the things I did as a child. Both to you and to myself. I never treated you, or myself, with the love and respect I should have. Part of the reasons I rebelled had to do with all the love that you poured into me growing up. It just felt smothering. Even now, as an adult, the amount of positivity and love you give me, despite my shortcomings, are hard on me. The countless number of times you call me Miracle only increases my feelings of inadequacy that I battle within myself every day. Somehow, throughout my life, I got the impression that I shouldn’t have been the one that survived. It felt like your love should have been pointed to someone else.”

  “What do you mean? Like who?” Her eyes are bright and smiling.

  “Like one of my sisters,” I reply in challenge and relish in her subtle blanch. Setting my paper down, I continue, “This is therapy, Mom. You can’t hide from that subject. I need to talk about them.”

  “Your sisters?”

  “Yes, I’ve told you I feel a connection to them and you continue to shut down that line of dialogue every time. I want to talk about them, Mother. I want them to be a part of me. For a long time, I thought that I just as easily could have died that day with my sisters in the NICU and nothing in the world would be different. I’ve done nothing miraculous in my lifetime.” Tears sting the back of my eyes at my vulnerable admission.

  “Sweetie, you have a masters from Oxford, for goodness sake. You’re very ambitious. But, even if you weren’t, your existence alone is scientifically miraculous!”

  “It’s not, Mom. Fuck! Don’t you see? I’m not living in your reality! I’m living in my own. In my reality, I feel alone and lost and incomplete a lot of the time. Since I started seeing Miguel and dating Liam, I’ve gotten a lot better. But, I’m far from healed. When you constantly call me a miracle, it only adds fuel to the fire that is my self-doubt. I’m a realist, Mom. Your words aren’t real!”

 

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