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Dysfunctional Hearts

Page 19

by L. S. Pullen


  I, on the other hand, am rooted to the spot. He turns to me and without missing a beat, he steps into my space. I hold my breath, but it’s short-lived as his scent alights my senses.

  His hands on my shoulders warm me to the touch when he leans down, greeting me with a kiss on the cheek.

  “Good to see you, Soph,” he says.

  I’m blindsided; I thought he’d be cold, hostile even—but he isn’t.

  He’s still my Charlie.

  “You, too,” I croak out.

  His eyes roam over my body before meeting mine. The air of sadness behind them causes my stomach to lurch. “If you need anything, let me know.” And with that he walks away, returning to his spot behind the bar, the woman still perched on the stall in front of him.

  I’ve spent the best part of the past hour sneaking glances at him.

  Flick nudges me. “Do you want to go? Is being here too much?” she whispers into my ear, clocking where my eyes continue to roam.

  “No, but I could really do with a drink about now,” I whisper back.

  She draws in her eyebrows. “I’m such an insensitive cow. Knowing you’re not talking, and you can’t drink,” she says, lowering her eyes to my belly.

  “Oh, stop it. Besides, you can make it up to me by being my designated babysitter.”

  She smiles and pulls me in for a side hug, clearly tipsy now. I laugh, which only draws attention to my now very full bladder.

  “I’m going for a pee.”

  I’m glad the other girls are too caught up in their conversation to notice me slip away. I need a minute to myself. I walk past the bar where Charlie is but keep my eyes cast down. As much as I want to see if he’s watching me, I don’t dare. I keep my eyes trained on my feet.

  I relieve myself and take my time to wash and dry my hands as I stare at my reflection in the mirror—the grey under my eyes, not even hidden by the layer of concealer I made a point to apply. I let out a breath, knowing I need to go back.

  It’s cooler out here in the hallway. Stopping, I take a moment. Leaning against the wall, I close my eyes. The distorted thrum of the music echoes through the walls.

  “You okay?”

  My eyes spring open, and my hand covers my chest.

  “Yeah, sorry.” I glance around, my cheeks flush. “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t be using these toilets. I guess old habits die hard.”

  “It’s fine. I don’t mind. Nothing’s changed.” He comes closer, placing his hand on the wall just beside my head, his body shadowing mine.

  “I just don’t want it to take liberties, especially after…you know…” My eyes dart everywhere, trying their hardest to avoid his.

  “I’d never think that. You can’t help how you feel any more than I can.”

  I’m hurt he thinks it’s because I don’t feel the same. Because I do. The worst part is, I wouldn’t even know how to explain it to him. I bite my lip and suck in a lungful of air, readying myself to at least try. I owe him that much.

  “Charlie?” a raspy, seductive voice calls out.

  He keeps his arm where it is, but his eyes lift to the ceiling before he turns his head. I peek around him, unable to keep my curiosity at bay and sure enough, it’s her—the woman who’s been flirting with him since I arrived with the others.

  My stomach drops, and I fight to keep the bile which threatens to rise at bay.

  “Give me a minute,” he calls out to her.

  She winks in response and saunters away.

  My cheeks begin to burn when he turns back to face me, he holds my gaze. I search for an answer to my unasked question, but his expression remains the same—resignation.

  “Excuse me,” I say, trying to keep my voice even, but my words tumble out more abrupt than I intend.

  I try to move past him. “Wait,” his voice is low but firm.

  “It’s fine, Charlie, go enjoy yourself. Don’t let me keep you.”

  He gently grabs my arm to still me, my back to him. “Sophie, are you being serious right now?”

  I turn back to him. “What do you mean?” I feign ignorance.

  He smirks, making me want to wipe that grin right off his pretty-boy face. I have no idea where that came from, but my hands begin to shake.

  “You’re jealous?” It sounds more like a statement than a question.

  My pulse begins to race, and my throat thickens, unsure if I want to laugh or cry. “No, I’m not,” I snap, but my stupid voice cracks.

  He gently grabs my chin, tilting it, forcing me up at him. I blink. hoping to keep my threatening tears at bay.

  “Then answer me this. Why the hell are you angry at me? And better still, why are you the one who’s upset?”

  Now, I force my eyes closed and swallow the build-up of emotion that’s almost suffocating. I clear my throat the best I can. “I’m not. Go, don’t let me keep you from whatever or whoever it is you’re doing.”

  No sooner have the words left my lips, I cover my mouth with my hand, mortified by my abstruse outburst.

  His nostrils flare, and his pupils become dark pools. His anger is palpable; I can’t even blame him. I want to apologise, but the words are stuck thick in my throat.

  “What do you want me to do Sophie? I can’t fucking win with you.”

  His words are like a knife to my gut. I try to keep my voice steady, struggling to hold back the emotions. “Charlie, this isn’t a game.”

  He leans in closer, and I make the mistake of locking eyes with his. And for the first time since I’ve known him, I see something I can’t explain, but whatever it is leaves a physical ache in my chest.

  “No, you’re right. It isn’t.”

  I close my eyes. I don’t want to see whatever that is—disappointment or worse…loathing. His hot breath fans my face before his cool lips graze my forehead, with a soft, chaste kiss. The loss is unnerving as he pulls away.

  “Goodbye, Sophie,” he whispers with a finality, followed by the sound of his feet, lighter with every step he takes away from me.

  Unable to resist, I force my eyes open. His retreating back stares back at me just as he walks out through the door without a backwards glance.

  I’m numb, confused, hollow, but then it hits me all at once. The ache begins to build in my chest, erupting like a thousand fragments. Not only have I pushed him away, but into the arms of another woman. I remain where I am, unable to keep my strangled sob at bay. When the door opens, my head shoots up, and my heart pauses, thinking it's him, he’s come back.

  But the eyes staring back at me aren’t his, they’re Olly’s.

  His usual playful smile is gone, and sympathy is etched across his face. He lets the door shut behind him, approaching me, and without saying a word, he wraps me in his arms. He doesn’t speak, just holds me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed and yet grateful at the same time.

  “Soph?” Flick asks in the distance.

  He pulls back and lets me go, passing me into the arms of my best friend, then without a word, he leaves us alone.

  “What the fuck?” she asks, holding onto me. I don’t even have the energy to say anything to rebuke her words, because what the fuck exactly.

  “What happened? Charlie said bye on his way out and said I might want to check on you. What did he do?”

  I move away and slide down the wall, putting my head between my legs. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. She joins me, wrapping her arm over my shoulder.

  “He left with that girl from the bar, didn’t he?” I ask on an unattractive hiccup of a snort, hunting through my clutch for a tissue.

  I pause and stare at her, she nods. “Do you want me to chop his fucking balls off?” she asks, completely serious.

  I laugh, but it’s quickly drowned out by my barrage of tears.

  “It’s his baby, isn’t it?” she asks, the weight of her words suffocating.

  I nod as shame washes over me. “Yes,” I croak out.

  She sighs. “He has the right to know.�
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  “And I’ll tell him, but not yet. Not until the next scan and I find out if everything’s okay.”

  “I’ll support you, and you know that. Always. But for the record, I think you’re wrong to wait.”

  But am I?

  This baby already means everything to me. Charlie has never even hinted at a relationship, let alone a baby.

  She doesn’t push this time. She’s said her peace, and I trust her to know she’ll keep it a secret.

  “You ready to call it a night?” she asks.

  I nod. “Are you sure? You don’t mind?”

  She stands, holding out her hand for me to take. “It’s fine. I’ve had some cocktails and got to spend time with my girls. I’m good.” She stands, wiping her hands down her front.

  I take her hand, and she pulls me up, but the earth moves under my feet, and I know from here on out, everything is going to be different.

  Chapter 30

  Charlie

  I feel like the biggest fucking dick. Sophie had to arrive with Flick and her friends while Amy was her usual flirty self. And I instantly felt guilty.

  Why? I have no idea.

  I’m not even interested in Amy, not like that. I kept glancing over to Sophie, and the one time I caught her staring back, I couldn’t read her expression. She wouldn’t hold eye contact with me. I was pleased when I saw her type in the code to the hallway, to access the staff toilets.

  I waited like a weirdo, for what I’d considered a reasonable amount of time before I followed, wanting to catch her on her way back out. I’m still fucking pissed off with Olly. Why did he have to go and open the door for Amy? That boy is softer than a fucking bean bag, and yet he can box better than anyone I know. But her showing up was a fucking curse.

  It was written all over Sophie’s face. I saw her holding back tears and it’s why I didn’t…couldn’t risk glancing back at her when I walked away. I would’ve caved and ended up kissing her pain away.

  Kissing her is home.

  But I’ve also come to the understanding that kissing her doesn’t solve anything. All it does is confuse the situation even more. But then again, I’m not opposed to begging, and I would have, just to have her come home with me.

  I drove Amy straight home; her flirting was harmless. She’s still hung up on her ex-girlfriend. Yes, I slept with her once, but that was years ago, and besides, I later found out she only slept with me out of spite, to get back at her ex.

  Truth is, she’d be more interested hitting on Sophie if she gave half the chance than going there with me again. That’s why I agreed to drop her home.

  As soon as she was out of my car, I drove on autopilot straight to Sophie’s. I parked, but I couldn’t see her car. I waited, in hopes that she’d be coming home soon.

  I didn’t want to leave it, not like that. It’s already haunting me.

  I get this weird feeling I can’t quite put my finger on—like someone has stepped over my grave—and the hairs on my arms prickle. I glance in my rear-view and side mirrors, peering up and down the street but see no one. I feel like eyes are on me. Maybe a neighbour has spotted me sitting in my car like a creepy stalker.

  Grabbing my phone, I type out a text.

  If I hurt you, I’m sorry!

  I don’t expect a response, at least not straight away.

  It’s eating me up, how I left things with her. Turning the key, I study her house one more time and pull away. I head to High Beach and find myself parked in front of the Holy Innocents Church. The surrounding forest is calm except for the occasional sound of a nocturnal animal.

  Nate and I have been coming here for years for ride outs. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have even known about this place.

  I’ve been at war with myself, so much shit rolling around in my head. It isn’t until I get a glimpse of the sun coming up that I see it’s almost five. I drive home exhausted. I get into bed, clothes and all. I need an hour or two of sleep at least.

  My phone is blowing up—calls from dad. The longer I ignore him, the more persistent he’ll become, so on the fifth call, I concede.

  “Hello?” I say with no enthusiasm at all.

  “Charles, you’re alive then?”

  I cover my eyes with my arm. “Obviously.”

  “Less of the sarcasm. Would it hurt you to let me know you were okay?”

  I’m annoyed, but at the same time, a little baffled. He never wants to know if I’m okay.

  What’s wrong with him?

  “I’m fine,” I reply.

  “Good, I was worried. We haven’t spoken since that disagreement.”

  I pull my phone away, eye-ball it in disgust before bringing it back to my ear. “Hardly a disagreement? You were out of line. I was pissed, still am.”

  It still feels strange cursing or even raising my voice to my father, but behaviour breeds behaviour. I guess this was a long time coming.

  “Believe it or not, I’ve only ever had your best interests at heart, even if I don’t always show it.”

  I’m momentarily speechless. I’m too tired to digest his heartfelt declaration.

  “I appreciate your concern… Sorry for not calling, but I do have an appointment I need to go get ready for,” I say, needing to pull my arse out of bed.

  “Fair enough, bye, son, and please try not to be a stranger.”

  “Bye.”

  After I hang up, I stare at my phone like it holds all the answers.

  What the heck was all that about?

  I quickly shower, wiping the steam off the mirror, and stare at my reflection. I need a shave and my body aches as if I’ve spent half the night sparring. I’ve fucked it up with Sophie for the last time. I clench my fist, and before I can stop myself, I punch the mirror, and it cracks, shatters under the force.

  “Fuck!”

  Cursing myself the entire time, I manage to clean it up.

  I make it into work with five minutes to spare before my accountant arrives.

  Five fucking gruelling hours later, I’m more than ready to throw in the towel, but I still have the rotas to finish for the upcoming month. It’s the thing I loathe the most about running my own business—the damn paperwork. It doesn’t help that my hand hurts like a son of a bitch. And now I have the mother fucker of all headaches. Between Sophie last night and Dad this morning, my head is fucked.

  Olly arrives and sits in the chair that Bradley, the accountant, recently vacated.

  “Maybe I should delegate this shit to you,” I tell him.

  He shrugs and points towards my hand, tilting his head in silent question.

  “Don’t ask.”

  “Fine, but what about Sophie?” he questions, and that’s the million-dollar question.

  I drop my pen and glance up; his eyes are stern and probing. I cross my arms and sit upright. “What about Sophie?”

  “I saw the state she was in after you left her.”

  I push back and out of my chair, clenching my fist, the skin taut and raw over my knuckles.

  “I tell you what. How about you do me a favour and finish the rota.”

  He nods and stands, too. “I’m not trying to pry, man. I don’t claim to know what’s going on between you two, but she was broken when I found her.”

  “Oliver, I don’t need a lecture, and if I wanted to talk to you about Sophie—which I don’t—I’d be the one to initiate it.”

  He holds up his palms and backs up.

  I scrub my hand over my face. “Sorry, man. I need to go.”

  I touch his shoulder as I pass him, not even bothering to wait for a response. I don’t even recognise myself right now.

  Nate’s in the garage when I rock up at his, and no matter how many times I walk in there, I’m always hit with a memory of the sight of him pinned under that fucking car. His head is down, working on the engine of his latest project.

  He stops and peers up, his lips in a straight line when he sees me. “Good night, was it? And you look like shit, by the way.”


  I raise my eyebrows. “What the fuck, man?”

  He stops what he’s doing, crossing his arms in front of him. “Let’s just say, my wife was not best pleased. It was bad enough she had to cut their girl’s night short, but Soph was a mess. Damn it, Charlie, I had to do some serious damage control.”

  He heads over to the sink, scrubs his hands using sugar and washing up liquid—a trick his gramps taught him to remove grease.

  “Why the heck would you need to do damage control?”

  Shaking off the excess water, he grabs some hand towels to dry his hands. Then he walks over to the fridge, pulls out two bottles of water, and tosses me one. He sits and nods his head for me to take the chair next to him.

  “All I know is, I don’t like being in the middle of whatever this is. You’re my family, and so is she, so it didn’t go over well when you left with someone who wasn’t her.”

  I blanch. “You have got to be shitting me right now.”

  He shakes his head before gulping his water. “I shit you not.”

  “I gave Amy a lift home, that’s it.”

  “Well, they obviously assumed the worst.”

  “What the fuck? See, this is why I did everything I could to avoid how I felt about her in the first place.”

  “But you did go there. And now there’s no going back, but you need to sort it out and move forward.”

  My eyes bug out of my head. “Fuck me, Nate. You are a word master, aren’t you?”

  He shrugs off my comment, and it goes straight over his head.

  “What damage control did you do exactly? What did you say to Flick?”

  He stares me down for a second. “I told her you wouldn’t go there because you care too much about Sophie...” He studies me, checking to make sure he was telling her the truth. “She said, and I quote, ‘he has a fucking funny way of showing it.’”

  I grab the back of my neck. “I’ve tried, but the more I push, the more she pulls away. You know what she’s like.”

  “Yeah man, she’s scared.”

  And there it is again, what is it that has her so afraid? “I think I need to give her space. Besides, I have other shit to worry about.”

 

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