Dysfunctional Hearts

by L. S. Pullen

  I can’t help but be impressed with what she’s done with the place. It’s welcoming, friendly. I love how she commissioned Felicity’s work. She had her take some local pictures and has them hung all over the shop.

  Her business cards are in pride and place on the front counter, for anyone who might be interested in her work, too. She even has a notice board for people to pop up advertisements for small local businesses.

  Once I’ve devoured the muffin and polished off my coffee I take my empty plate and cup leaving them on the counter. And dropping a tip in the jar.

  “Thanks Rachel, I’ll catch you later,”

  “No worries, bye,” she says, reaching for them as I turn to leave.

  I decided to come back around closing, knowing I’m more than likely to catch her now, and I’m right. I pull up opposite as she waves off Rachel and begins to close up.

  Needing to put myself out of my misery, after dropping my feelings on her the other week, I force myself to grow a pair and jump out of my car and jog over to her. As I approach, I’m floored by the smile she has plastered across her face, whistling while she lowers the shutters.

  “Someone’s happy,” I say.

  She startles, bringing her palm to her chest as she turns to face me and swats me on the shoulder. “Charlie, don’t do that. You bloody scared me.”

  I stuff my hands into my pockets. “All the more reason not to close up on your own…especially when you seem so distracted.”

  “Noted. Was there anything you needed, or did you just come by to give me a lecture?” Her face betrays her words, the smile still present.

  “Something has you in a good mood. What’s up?” I ask, clearly digging.

  “Not much,” she says with a shrug as the shutters come down.

  “Have you met someone?” I ask, the words slipping out.

  She pulls her eyebrows into a v shape as she considers my question. “I meet people every day. Why?” She crosses her arms.

  I can’t help but smile. There’s the spitfire I know so well. “Witty, who knew?”

  She cocks her head at me, raising her eyebrows.

  “I was just wondering if you fancied grabbing dinner?”

  “What, tonight?”

  “Yeah,” I reply.

  “I missed lunch, so that sounds good, but are you okay with a takeaway at mine?”

  “Where are you parked?”

  She hooks her thumb over her shoulder towards her car.

  “I’ll meet you back at yours?”

  I watch her get into her car before I cross and make my way back to mine. On the short drive to hers, I try to come up with a plan of how to approach the conversation of us. I wish I knew what the fuck I was doing. I feel completely out of my depth.

  We pull up at the same time, and I join her at her front door. Inside, we finally decide on Chinese. She warms the plates in the oven, waiting on the delivery as I ask her how the shop is doing. She smiles the whole time as she tells me about it.

  After we eat, I sit back in my chair and close my eyes. I hear her beginning to stack the plates, and I sit forward. Her bracelet slides down her wrist; I reach out and touch the charm. An audible gasp leaves her mouth as my fingers touch her hand. I look up, and our eyes meet before she pulls it away slowly. I help her with the dishes, in silence, her cheeks a warm glow.

  She clears her throat. “Do you want some coffee?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I watch as she reaches for two mugs and adds a spoonful of instant coffee in one and pulling out some herbal tea for the other.

  “You not having coffee?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. This the girl who needs coffee to function.

  “No, I'm off of coffee.”

  “Since when? You love your coffee.”

  She avoids my gaze as she tinkers with the mugs. “Who knows, maybe it's just a fad.”

  Something about this feels like it’s a lie, which is stupid, it’s only coffee. While the kettle boils, she washes the plates from dinner, and I grab a dish towel to dry them. Every time I open a cupboard to put something away, it’s the wrong one.

  She points to the correct location as if it’s common sense. It’s not my fault she’s re-arranged her cupboards since the last time I was here. She stifles a laugh as I pull open a cabinet full of tins—no longer the glasses—and she shakes off her wet hands, reaching out for the dishtowel in my hands.

  “Okay, you think that's funny?” I ask as I reach out to tickle her. She lets out a squeal.

  “No, Charlie, stop it please,” she says, laughing as she swats me with wet hands.

  “Nope,” I say as she backs up to the fridge.

  She eyes either side of me for an escape before raising them back to my face. She has nowhere to go, and she knows it. I peer down at her chest, watching it rise and fall. I wonder if her heart rate is beating as fast as mine. Her hands are hanging at her sides. I peer up and catch her just as she licks her lips.

  Slowly, like gravity, my body is leaning into her. My head lowers as my lips join hers. This kiss is heavy, full of want. Something’s different.

  I pull away just enough to whisper, “Something's different about you.”

  “What do you mean?” she asks, a hint of worry lacing her voice.

  I shake my head. “It’s not a bad different,” I say, and then we’re kissing again.

  Her sweet, soft moans cause ripples of goosebumps to rise over my body. I pull back and work my lips to her tender earlobe, sucking it between my teeth. I sweep of my tongue over her collar bone before finding my way again to her mouth. My palms seek out her breasts, soft yet firm in my hands. My dick twitches to attention, tightening in my boxers.

  “So good,” I say.

  I am sliding my hands down to her waist to cup her arse and pull her in closer.

  She lets out a wanton sigh. Does she feel it, too? The effect she has on me? I lift her, and she wraps her legs around me. Our kiss is now frantic. Teeth clash and then she nips at my bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth, and I am putty in her hands. Now, I’m the one letting out a groan. She stops suddenly and pulls back, our breathing heavy.

  “I can't do this, I'm sorry,” she says.

  I’m at a temporary loss for words before I finally find my voice. “Why?”

  I know what we have isn’t one-sided.

  “I just can't. It's complicated. I'm sorry, I never meant to lead you on.”

  I step back. “Damn it, Soph. I never said you did. What’s going on? Please tell me…is there someone else?” I swallow the lump in my throat. I have a bad feeling about this.

  “What? No!” she snaps.

  She pushes on my chest softly, putting more space between us. She inhales a deep breath before speaking again, “It's not you, it's me.”

  I blink a few times. She didn’t just say that. “Please tell me I heard you wrong. What the fuck? Surely you can do better than that?” My voice comes out bitter.

  It’s me, not you.

  “It's just complicated.” She can’t even make eye contact.

  “If we’re both single and like each other, I don’t see what's so complicated about that?”

  She lets out a heavy sigh. “We’re friends. You know I care about you, but it’s not that simple.”

  “So, tell me?” I all but beg.

  “I just… I can’t. Not yet… I'm afraid to,” she says in a rush. Her expression falters, by her admission.

  “Afraid of me?” I ask incredulously. The last person I’d ever hurt is her, and if she doesn’t know that, then she doesn’t know me at all.

  “No, of course not. I’m just not ready to tell you.” Her expression is almost at war with herself. She folds her arms over her stomach. Her eyes become glassy as she tries to blink back unshed tears. I step forward to take her in my arms, but she moves back slightly. She is putting distance between us. My arms hang limply at my sides, unsure what I should do.

  “Shit, Soph, don’t cry.”

  “Charlie
, it’s best if you left. I want to be alone.”

  Is she serious?

  “I can’t just leave you, not like this. I care about you too much.” I feel like each time I say it out loud, I lose a little bit more of myself to her.

  “What?” She slumps down slowly into the chair; I move and kneel in front of her taking her hands in mine.

  “Sophie, there has always been something about you. Whether I wanted to admit it or not. And what I feel for you is real, you know that right?”

  “We wouldn’t work,” she says, but her words are weak.

  “Why not?” I squeeze her hands gently, trying to keep my frustration in check.

  “I’m dysfunctional, Charlie, and you can do better than someone like me.” She bites her lower lip.

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it. Damnit, Sophie, at least give us a chance. Give me a chance.”

  “No, Charlie. Please, if you care like you say you do, you’ll go.”

  “What?” Everything about this tells me this isn’t really what she wants; she’s frightened. I know because I am, too. But I’m not ready to give up on the idea of us, not now I know she’s the one I want to be with, that she’s the one I’m willing to take a risk with my heart.

  “Please, Sophie… are we really having an argument over this?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  “Or do you really not care about me like that? Is that it?” I know I’m pushing it, but I have no choice

  “Charlie… it’s not that. I do. Believe me, I do!”

  “Just not in the same way as I do for you? Is that it?”

  She doesn’t answer me, she just shakes her head.

  I stand, letting go of her hands and pace back and forth. Why is she being so, so stubborn? “I tell you what. Why don’t you think about it and when you’ve made up your mind, you let me know? At least then I can try and get over you. If that’s even possible…” I all but shout, turning away from her and storming out.

  I don’t look back, but like the twelve-year-old I am, I do slam the door behind me. I regret it the moment my feet hit the steps. I clench my fists beside me and try to control my breathing.

  I turn back and knock. My gut twists uncomfortably. I can’t leave it like this. I knock again and wait, but she doesn’t answer. Forcing myself to move, I walk away.

  My footsteps have never felt so heavy.

  Sophie

  For the first time in a long time, the physical urge to vomit has nothing to do with the baby. I wasn’t able to control the onslaught of tears as he walked away. I knew it was him knocking, but I couldn’t move. My body became alien to me, my heart and my head telling me two different things.

  It took me an hour before I cracked and reached out to Flick, asking if she could come over. Of course, she didn’t hesitate.

  So, here we are sitting on my sofa, legs pulled up underneath us.

  “Well, I think you're a bit of an idiot,” she says, after listening to my version of events.

  I cringe. “Don’t hold back, will you?”

  She sighs, grabbing my hand. “I just want you to be happy, Soph.”

  I know she does, and I love her for it, I do. But what happens when he finds out about the baby? And he will. I’m not going to be able to hide it for much longer. I’m already beginning to show. And when he does, it will break me.

  “I just can't risk it, not with the baby.”

  “I don’t think you’re being fair. He’s a good guy, and he’s different with you.”

  He is. I’ve always noticed it. Initially, I thought he just had a big brother complex thing going on—a lot like Nate. But now I know him, I know otherwise, and the truth is, the thought alone made me want to run from it, the possibility of having more almost incomprehensible.

  “I know, but I'm not willing to take the risk.”

  I can see the question on the tip of her tongue. But she backs down, and whatever she might have said next, she refrains.

  “I don’t claim to know how you’re feeling right now, Sophie. You have so much more to worry about with the baby and the shop. I feel guilty for pushing that on you, but I only had your best interests at heart. But if it’s too much, you would say, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course, I would. Your faith in me gives me the confidence to pursue something I believed was always out of my reach.”

  “I know I can be a bit of a pusher. But it’s because I love you.”

  And there I go again—crying. I hate hormones, they bloody suck.

  She laughs, but not before tears soak her lashes. Leaning over awkwardly, she drags me into her arms. For someone who doesn’t particularly like being touched, she never seems to have an issue when it comes to Simon or me. Of course, Nate is a given, he calms her in a way I never thought possible after everything that happened. They give me hope. Funny, how a four-letter word can hold so much weight and power.

  Flick did offer to stay, even though she’s super busy with work. But I told her I’d be fine, and I wanted the time to think, to get my thoughts in order. Besides, she’s married now, and things are different, even if she doesn’t want them to be. She can’t continue to be pulled into my crap; it’s time for me to stand firm. I have a baby on the way and life-changing decisions to make.

  But for now, I want to get lost in a world of fiction, somewhere I can go where reality can’t touch me. I curl up in bed with my worn copy of Alice In Wonderland. I don’t know why I like this book so much. I don’t ever remember not having it. I stroke the worn cover, finding a familiar comfort beneath the pages. Opening it to where I left off, and read the words which have never resonated with me more profoundly than they have as late.

  I knew who I was this morning, but I’ve changed a few times since then.

  Chapter 29

  Sophie

  I've spent this week trying to keep busy, focusing on work, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been checking my phone excessively. Nothing from Charlie. Not since I told him to leave. He stormed out, and the worst part is, I let him. The blame is on me.

  Flick invited me to come over for dinner before our girl’s night out. It’s the last thing I’m really in the mood for, but she’s had it planned for weeks.

  Nate’s been quietly broody most of the dinner, so when Flick nips off to the kitchen, I know I need to say something. “Nate, if you have something to say, I’m a big girl, I can take it,” I say with no malice in my words, just a resounding acceptance. My pulse begins to race.

  He eyes me as he contemplates his words. I know they’re coming, but I see him battling to find the best way to express himself. “Charlie’s my family, and now I’m married to Flick. That also means you’re my family, too. And I care about both of you. I’m not stupid. I know Flick’s keeping something from me and whatever it is likely has something to do with whatever’s going on with you and Charlie.”

  I stare into his eyes, pleading. I want to tell him, I do, and it’s not that I don’t trust him… It’s my body I don’t trust. I worry once I start telling people about the baby, something will go wrong. It’s an uncontrollable fear, and the fear is real.

  “It’s just a misunderstanding. Charlie and I need time to let things settle. They’ll go back to normal eventually. And believe me, I am sorry you’re being dragged into this, it was never my intention.”

  “I’m not asking for you to apologise, you don’t owe me anything. I don’t want to see either of you hurt. And it just seems to me that whatever it is has made you both miserable, and the sooner you two fix it, the better.”

  I nod, feeling like a complete bitch. Truth is though—it’s my fault.

  “I know it’s all been crazy with the new shop. And I’m my own worst enemy. Flick worries about me and I know I depend on her too much,” I say, feeling guilty.

  He shakes his head. “Not at all. She needs you as much as you need her. But know I can be impartial. If ever you need to, you know you can always come to me, right?”

  “Thank you,
Nate. I appreciate that.” And I do, I can see how Flick fell in love with him. With all his false bravado, he’s a decent guy.

  Flick comes in, carrying a tray with her signature dish, all pleased with herself. A mixture of strawberry goodness, chewy meringue and whipped cream. Eton mess, my favourite. And just like that, for the briefest moment, everything is all right again.

  If I could avoid going, I would. But Flick has been looking forward to this for so long. I’m driving for obvious reasons, and it seemed to appease Nate to know we wouldn’t be getting cabs home. I know he’d rather have picked us up instead.

  The rest of the girls are already waiting for us when I park.

  Jase is on the door, arms crossed, until he sees me and lifts me off my feet in a squeeze before putting me down.

  “Where you been, girl? It’s been too long.”

  “Just been super busy with work. How’s the family?”

  He smiles, the biggest statue of a man. He used to scare the pants off me until I got to know him.

  “Good. The youngest started talking, but her first word was ‘shit’. So, her mumma ain’t too impressed with me right now.”

  “Oh, well, let’s hope she doesn’t pick up any more,” I say with a laugh.

  He fist-bumps Flick and Rachel before waving the rest of the girls through.

  I’m fine right up until the moment my eyes connect with him—the first person I see. Of course.

  Charlie excuses himself from an overzealous woman upon our arrival and struts over, his command of the room effortless.

  Seeing him smiling and joking with her as we came in makes me nauseous, even if I’m the one who continues to push him away. But that doesn’t stop this unfamiliar sensation from rearing its ugly head.

  “Welcome, ladies. I reserved you the booth over there.” He waves his hand behind him. “Olly will make sure you’re well looked after.”

  Flick thanks him with a kiss on the cheek. Rachel wiggles her fingers at him as she passes him by to go sit down, the other girls hot on her heels.