by Ana Simons
“But I called you, goddammit!” I explode, probably louder than I should, with exasperation dripping from every word, resentment rising from my gut up my whole body. “Why didn’t you answer any of my calls? Why did you have to leave me alone the whole bloody weekend, desperate for a sign from you? Because in that messed-up head of yours I deserved to be punished, is that it? What about now? Mission accomplished? Feeling better already?”
Her face is blank, she doesn’t react.
“Tell me! Is that it?” I hold her shoulders, looking into her eyes. “And now you think you can just drop by, make me some bloody tea and thank me for some flowers I’m beginning to think you don’t even deserve in the first place—and we’re good? You think you can just tell me that my father helped you see the obvious or the fucking light or whatever, and you can simply come back as if nothing had happened?” My heart is hammering hard against my ribs, the quick throbbing of my pulse almost choking me.
She rests her hand on my chest. “No, this has nothing to do with your father.”
I ignore her. This mixture of sadness, bile and despair has already flooded my chest and my heart is racing, my mind in absolute turmoil.
“Why the fuck don’t you trust me? That’s what I can’t get over! Why, goddammit? When I’ve never given you a single reason not to! How can you not know that I’d never do anything to hurt you or compromise what we have?”
“Brian, stop! Listen to me.”
“How can we even think about doing this, if you don’t let your guard down and allow me in? Because this is how it’s going to be, isn’t it? Every time we have a problem, you’ll turn your back on me and then run? Well, in that case, I’m afraid I can’t do it anymore.”
She looks up, stunned, unable to utter a single work.
“You heard me. I can’t do this anymore.” My heart drops to my stomach when I see her like that, but I’m too angry to listen and too proud to cave into whatever excuses she may have. “Thanks for the tea, but I’m having breakfast somewhere else. And then I go to work.”
Five minutes later I’m slamming the front door shut behind me and my mind is reeling through the whole situation and the voice in the back of my head screaming that I am a fool.
41 What I do know
“…We need to talk to the contractor. I was on the site this morning and it’s not just the thermo-acoustic panels, Brian, the vibration supports need to be readjusted too. They’re working on the lightning today, and if you agree, we could–”
In fairness, would you be so cool about it, if it was that dimwit of her ex in your bed?
“Sure, Patel. Take care of that.” I instruct, though I have no bloody idea what his suggestion was.
It’d better be a good one, as my thoughts are miles away from the McAllister Auditorium project meeting I’m supposed to be chairing. Every muscle on my face is straining to look normal and controlled, but my stomach is churning inside me.
If I’d be cool about it? The hell I would, I’d feel like breaking the fucker’s nose.
I thought so.
But I’d listen to her, I’d try to understand what really happened. I wouldn’t jump straight to my own conclusions without–
You’d listen?
Of course.
Like you listened to what she had to say today? She was working all night, what do you know?
Fuck, I growl to myself, the hand under the table balling into a fist.
And you know what? You’re a complete arse! She’s pregnant, carrying your children; why did you speak to her like that?
My chest tightens, this terrible what-the-fuck-have-I-done feeling leaving me absolutely restless.
“Brian? You all right? Are you even listening or am I talking to myself?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to bring my absent mind back. No, I’m not listening, it’s all blur. This is all fucking insane and I can’t focus on anything except the sickening tension consuming me from the inside.
A knock on the door jerks me out of the stupor.
“Brian? We have a situation, I need you to come here.” Millie peeks over the rim of her glasses.
My eyes fall to the bottom right-hand corner of the laptop screen. 14:20. Then they scan the conference table. Six people have their eyes fixed on me and Millie is at the door, all of them waiting for a reaction.
Resolutely, I snap the laptop’s lid closed and stand. “Sorry. I have to be somewhere else.”
“Brian?”
I turn back when I feel a tug at my jacket. “What, Millie?”
“It’s Rogers. He’s waiting in my office,” she tells me in hushed tones. “Looking upset and very angry. What do you want me to? Call security?”
My lips pull into a contented grin. Already having an idea of why he’s so mighty pissed off, I flip the switch, letting the opaque walls become translucent so that I can see him. He’s pacing back and forth in an obvious rotten mood.
“Brian, what’s going on here?”
“I gave him a taste of his own medicine.” The taste of betrayal. “And he’s already choking on it.”
Millie lifts an eyebrow, looking confused. “What do you want me to do?”
“Tell him I can’t see him, he should leave. If he makes any fuss, call security.”
*
Olivia is sitting outside, on the balcony, with her arms wrapped around her knees, seemingly looking into the void, probably gathering her thoughts and making some sense of all those things I told her.
“Liv?” I call her softly from the living-room and she tilts her head to the side, startled. Her eyes are red, her face flushed and swollen.
I grab a blanket from the sofa and go outside too, to sit next to her. “Here, let me wrap this around your shoulders. It’s freezing, you shouldn’t be here.”
“I needed to get air. I was suffocating inside...” A sob escapes her throat.
Neither of us says a word for quite a while, there’s only this strained silence filling the space between us as we keep looking at the heavy rain falling down.
“I apologise for being a bit of jerk. For spilling my guts like that.” I rest my hand on top of hers and squeeze it gently.
She takes it and interlaces her fingers with mine. “I’d left my phone in the locker, that’s why I didn’t see any of your calls until later in the night... And your texts, for that matter. And it wasn’t your father who convinced me to come back. Sure, I was mad about the whole thing—wouldn’t you?—but I cooled off and was already getting ready to stop by and give you a goodnight kiss when he called me. And I’m so sorry too, if I disappointed you and even made you question if we wouldn’t be better apart and–”
I pull her close to me, and hold her, stroking her hair. “I didn’t mean any of that, Liv. That was the hurt inside of me talking. You know that, don’t you?”
“What about those texts, the things you wrote last night? Did you mean any of that?”
What texts?
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, I’m afraid last night got a bit blurry...”
She takes her hand back gently, in her eyes a sad expression.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I hold her head in my hands and let the pad of my thumb brush her lower lip. There’s disappointment written all over.
“What texts? You really don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?”
“I’m sorry, but the last thing I recall, I was... Come inside with me, I want to show you something.”
I hold her hand and take her to the nursery room.
“Let me introduce you to Bernie, the coolest elephant I’ve ever met. The poor fella put up with me the whole night and never complained!”
Running her hand along one of the white wooden cribs we picked last week, Olivia looks around with a tiny glint of happiness in her eyes. Then she studies the details on the large painting. “Ah, look at the twigs and the rope! You’ve done an amazing job! And Bernie really looks adorable. Thank you.”
I return t
he compliment with a brief thanks while I’m checking if I have my mobile with me, in my jacket. It’s not.
After a bit, Olivia pulls her own phone out of the jeans pocket and swipes the screen before handing it to me. “Well, it’s not one of those grand proclamations of undying love or anything, I know, and...”
Brian | Monday, December 14 | 00:22
U r the best thing in my life
Brian| Monday, December 14 | 00:33
Miss u so much.
Brian | Monday, December 14 | 00:42
Come back home and marry me goddammit
Oh shit, no! I didn’t.
“...and granted, it would never win the 2015-over-the-top-marriage-proposals-prize, because it’s really dorky and kind of silly! Now call me crazy, but I thought it was kind of sweet too. And I wanted to text back yes, yes, yes, but then I thought, it’s three in the morning—the hell with it! I’m calling him anyway and put an end to this stupid argument right now. But you didn’t take my call. And now you tell me you don’t remember any of it? Damn, I feel so stupid!” She nearly chokes as she races through her words. “Of course—what was I thinking?—the only way you’d ask such a thing is if you’ve had a few drinks first!”
What? No, no. I was going to propose next week and–
“Shhh.” There’s a lost tear running down her face when I lean down to brush a light kiss on her lips. “Get yourself a warm jacket. I’m taking you for warm pie and hot chocolate now.”
*
“This is so nerve-wracking! Why don’t you just tell me what’s this all about?”
“I guess you’re about to find out,” I tease her a little when about an hour later, and a week ahead of schedule, we park the car in front of her family cottage.
“God, it’s freezing,” she gasps, rubbing her hands and huffing out a cloud of warm breath. “But aren’t we going inside first?” There’s a mix of confusion and excitement on her face.
“No.” I tuck the woollen scarf around her neck.
“No?”
“Nope.” I leave a kiss on the top of her head and wrap one arm around her shoulders, to hold her against me as we walk down the road.
We finally pass the wooden fence and get to the fields across Hampstead Lane. On the horizon, the dimming grey sky meets the snow-covered forest behind the vast, white open land and it feels like we’ve just immersed in a magical frosty winter scene.
“Remember this place?” I begin.
She looks up at me, her smile so gentle. “Of course. How could I ever forget?”
I hug her from behind around the waist and tell her softly against her face. “I’m sorry if I don’t remember sending you those texts. And you’re right, that was dorky. In fact, it was a crappy proposal and you deserve much more than that. But you know what they say, don’t you? In wine there is truth, so you shouldn’t feel too bad about it, really.” I chuckle, a nervous chuckle, though.
“And?”
“The thing is, there’s not much in my favour: I’m not very good with words, most times I have absolutely no clue what’s going on in your mind, I can’t build you a house with my bare hands either, or take you on some helicopter ride, or any of those extraordinary things that apparently seem to sweep women away. I’m sorry, I guess no one will ever write one of those heart-melting romance books about us...
“So, I may not always know the right things to say, but I do know that I love you, that I respect you, and appreciate you for who you are. I know that I want to support you and be there no matter what. That I want to laugh with you and remind you every day how much I care for you. Olivia, you have me already, but will you marry me too?”
She turns, encircles her arms around me and cradles herself into the crook of my neck, to breathe out yes against my skin. And I hold her tightly and rock her gently, in silence, for quite a while, until she comes up to rest her forehead against mine, smiling, murmuring between tears how much she loves me too.
I drop a kiss on her temple. “Sweetheart, I adore you and I will always follow you everywhere, as long as you let me come with you.”
She pulls back, wipes the tears with her hands and giggles, a naughty giggle that passes through her lips, now turned into a mischievous smile. “Darling, I will always let you come with me...”
The sly innuendo stops me in my tracks. “Olivia! I’m trying to be serious here. Come on, I haven’t finished yet!”
She smothers a grin. “Oh, you haven’t? Please, do continue.”
I thread my fingers through her hair. “And now I’d like to take you–”
“You’d better forget about that pie!” She bites her lower lip trying to stifle a snort of laughter. Her hands snake to slip into the back pockets of my jeans and squeeze my butt. “Because I’ll be honest with you... I just can’t stop thinking about it, you naked in that shower this morning. And I’m sorry, if my hands are a bit restless today—damn these hormones!”
“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to kiss you.”
“I want to kiss you too, so bad... all over.”
Jesus.
I crash my lips down on hers. Hard.
The last shred of control is about to desert me when I finally manage to pull back and pin her down with my gaze. “And now you stop! I’ve been planning this for weeks now and having you rubbing yourself against me was not in the programme. You cannot touch anything... yet.”
For some crazy reason, my serious tone makes her laugh even harder, basically out of happiness, I know it. She’s that weird. But apparently, we’re all weird anyway, and this is one of those weirdnesses that is absolutely compatible with my own. And I just love it. I know I want to hear her laughing like this forever too.
I place my hand over her lips, the same hand that brushes her face and traces her delicate jawline. The same hand that runs down her arm until it rests on hers to draw circles over her knuckles.
She smiles back, her eyebrows arching, urging me to continue.
My heart is thudding hard against my chest, my whole body is flooding with a warm feeling as I discreetly reach into my pocket. And then, finally, I slowly slip the ring on her finger, all the while looking deeply into her eyes…
~
Brian and Olivia’s story continues in
Between Heartbeats, coming soon.
Before you go…
Thank you so much for taking the time to read this book. I truly hope you have enjoyed Brian and Liv’s story.
And if you did, it’d mean the world to me if you could take a moment to leave a review on AMAZON and/or GOODREADS, even if it’s just a few words. Reviews help other readers discover my work, and are therefore very much appreciated.
Would you like to get a glimpse into Olivia’s world before her return to London? Learn why she nearly missed her cousin’s wedding? Know what she felt the moment Brian first talked to her, after all those years? It’s all in Before Dawn, the prequel novella!
My debut novel
Silent Signs
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Until next time!
Ana ♥
Free Falling is registered in the United States Copyright Office
Library of Congress Registration Number TX 8-441-670