“Well, you really have thought of everything. Where is it?”
“It’s a little beach hut right on the sea in Cornwall. Look.” I pass her my phone with the details.
“Wow, it’s so cute and peaceful.”
“It’s a private beach, so there won’t be any holiday makers on it other than the ones staying in the huts along with us.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“So, you’re in?”
“Do I actually have a choice?” she laughs.
Chapter Five
Molly
I was there as soon as the shops opened this morning with a list of what I needed for my week away. I can’t wait to get to that little beach hut. I can just see myself sitting in the hot tub overlooking the beach as the sun goes down—complete with a glass of wine. Heaven.
Every time I think about it, butterflies erupt in my stomach, but they never cover the guilt I feel. It shouldn’t be me excited to go on a holiday with Ryan. I checked the weather forecast when I first woke up this morning. It’s going to be amazing all week. Cornwall, here I come.
My full suitcases are on my bed, and I’m double-checking that I have everything. I may have gone a little mad at the shops this morning, which has resulted in me needing both cases, but it’s not every day a girl gets taken away.
As well as all the obvious necessities, I ended up with five new bikinis, summer dresses, shorts, vests and t-shirts, a skirt, a pair of flip-flops as well as wedges, new lingerie for the week, and a couple of flowers to go in my hair, Hawaii style.
After crossing off the last items on my list, I zip up my cases and drag them into the hallway. I walk back into my room with a huge smile on my face, just like I have since we finished putting everything together at some ungodly hour this morning. Ryan kept his promise and we didn’t stop until everything was together. I knew about it when I got up this morning—every muscle in my body hurt from all the lumping around. I really need to return to my exercise classes once we get back.
Making my way across the room, I grab my laptop and phone and sit on my new chair, putting my feet up on the coffee table that I’ve set up in front of the French doors leading to the courtyard. I check my emails and to-do lists for the week so I don’t fall behind on work. After the accident, I didn’t take on as many clients as we had before. Work took a backseat to everything else, but it has started to pick up again—so much so that I’m starting to think I may need to find an office and hire another designer. It’s amazing to think that the dream Hannah and I had when we were teenagers might just come true. Dialing on Emma’s number, I wait in the hope she’ll answer this time. I need to explain all of this to her, but as usual, it rings off and goes to voicemail. Giving up, I shut my laptop down just as I hear Ryan’s footsteps down the stairs.
“Two cases? You know we are only going for seven days, right?” He laughs as he pops his head around the door.
“I’m a woman, I can’t help it. Don’t tell me…you’ve just got a tiny backpack or something pathetic?” I walk over to the front door, slipping my flip-flops on as I go, and notice I’m not far from wrong; he has a small suitcase which looks miniscule next to mine. I roll my eyes at him. “Whatever,” I shrug as I get to him. “I’ll carry yours!” I say over my shoulder, as I make my way to his car.
The journey has been so much fun. I synced my phone to Ryan’s car, much to his delight, and we’ve been singing along with my favourite old-school songs, as well as playing stupid travelling games and taking the piss out of other drivers. We’re now driving through the most picturesque little Cornish village, only ten minutes away from our beach hut, according to the SatNav.
“Wow.” As we pull up to our allocated parking space on the edge of the small cliff the beach huts are set in, all we can see is the bay in front of us. “Definitely cannot complain about the view,” I say, getting out the car and leaning over the fence at the very edge. “Oh my God, look how cute they are!” I can see the tops of five beach huts from here, with their huge balconies overlooking the bay.
“Come on, grab some stuff,” Ryan says from behind me as he unloads the suitcases from the car. “We’re in number one, so it’s this way, by the looks of it,” he says, nodding his head over to a sign. We make our way down the winding path to our little home for the week, and I swear the view keeps getting better.
When we get to our hut, I can’t believe my eyes. It has to be the nicest of all the ones we’ve passed. Its balcony wraps around three sides. There’s a section for eating with a white bistro set, and at the front there’s a giant outside bed for lounging on as well as wooden sun loungers. The final side has the hot tub. The way it’s set into the cliff and right at the end of the path makes it completely secluded. We could go the whole week and not see anyone else if we wanted to.
“Don’t just stand there staring; let’s go check the place out,” Ryan says, opening the little gate.
“I think I’m in love,” I say when I get inside. The front wall of the beach hut has sliding glass doors so they can be opened. All the furniture in the open-plan kitchen/diner and living room is white, and all the accessories are bright and multi-coloured, bringing the sunshine inside. The bedroom and bathroom are at the back of the hut and follow the same theme. “I want one,” I say, spinning around and taking everything in.
“The internet didn’t really do it any justice, did it?” Ryan says, putting the suitcases on the stand in the bedroom.
“Ahh,” I sigh as I sink into the warm water of the hot tub. As soon as we put our cases in the hut this afternoon, we went in search of a supermarket. When we got back, I made us grilled salmon and asparagus, and Eton mess for dessert with local strawberries. It was so good. I think I may have embarrassed Ryan a little with the appreciative noises I was making while eating it. Ryan washed up and I put on my first bikini of the week—a 1950’s style red and white polka dot number—to test out the hot tub.
With a full plastic wine glass in hand, I sit watching the sky change colour as the sun makes its descent for the night, waiting for Ryan to appear. I was going to wait for him so we could get in together, but he was adamant that I should enjoy myself.
Eventually, he comes out of the hut, wearing a pair of pale blue board shorts that hang deliciously low on his hips, showing off all his defined muscles and his sexy V that had me close to drooling the other day. I try my best to keep my eyes on his face, but it’s hard to do. We’re here to celebrate Hannah. I shouldn’t be feeling this way all of a sudden.
I move over so he has enough space to get in, but he seems to have paused at the steps. “Come on, it’s so good in here.”
This seems to snap him out of his thoughts, and he hops in.
“Is everything okay?” I ask. He hasn’t looked at me yet, the muscles in his shoulders pulled tight, his jaw clenched.
“Yeah, fine. You?” he says unconvincingly.
“Yes, amazing. Thank you so much for sharing this with me. It’s heaven.”
“No problem,” he says, opening a can of beer. “When I booked it, I thought the time alone would be good, but as the months have gone on, I couldn’t think of anything worse. I actually thought about cancelling it. So, I guess we should be thanking dickhead Max.”
I raise my glass. “To Max screwing me over.” Then, I touch it to Ryan’s can.
“To Max. His loss is my gain.” Ryan quickly looks away. I can’t help but notice that his cheeks redden slightly.
“So…I hate to ask, but what’s the plan for tomorrow? You said you wanted to celebrate, not be miserable, right?” I question gently, not really wanting to bring the subject up.
“Well, as Jo told me for months after the accident, focus on the good times you had and celebrate what you had together, not on what you’ve lost. I’m not totally sure how to do that, but I’m sure we’ll come up with something,” he says, sounding unsure all of a sudden.
Jo was the grief counsellor I found for us after the accident. I cannot believe it’s b
een six months. Six months since I lost my best friend, and Ryan lost his girlfriend. When I think about it, it feels like it could have been last week. Glancing over at him, I feel the weight of whatever’s been developing between us press down on my shoulders.
When Ryan phoned me in hysterics in the middle of the night from the hospital and told me to get there as soon as possible, my stomach fell to my feet. When I got there and found out what had actually happened, it felt like my heart left my body. I remember falling into Ryan in floods of tears, and we sobbed together on the floor of the hospital for what felt like hours.
Hannah and Emma had both worked that evening at Cocoa’s. When they eventually locked up after a busy night, Emma’s car wouldn’t start, so Hannah offered to take her back to their parents’ house. They weren’t far away when Hannah pulled out to cross a junction and a drunk driver flew at them like a bat out of Hell, crashing into the driver’s side. According to the medics, Hannah died instantly and wouldn’t have been in any pain. Emma, on the other hand, was stuck in the passenger seat with multiple broken bones and bruises. She managed to phone an ambulance and her parents.
Ryan and I seemed to deal with our grief in a similar way. We shut ourselves off from everyone but each other and the Morrisons. Someone recommended Jo to me, and I signed us up for a joint session. We fell in love with her in that first hour. She was straight-talking and didn’t do any of the softly, softly approach that other people had tried that made my skin crawl. She said it how it was. She would tell us how shitty a situation it was, but that we had to be thankful for the time we did have with her. Celebrate what a wonderful person she was every single day, and relish in the joy she brought to our lives. She told us that we had to continue to live, and we had to find a way to be happy, because that was what Hannah would have wanted for us. We still had lives to live, and they needed to be full of fun and love. Hence our motto: live, laugh, love.
Ryan must have noticed I was taking a trip down memory lane, because at some point he moved next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. I feel his thumb catch a tear I didn’t realise had fallen from my eye.
“I’m sorry, we’re meant to be celebrating and being happy,” I say, leaning my head on his shoulder.
“We are, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t going to be sad as well sometimes. It’s okay, Molls,” he whispers in my ear, rubbing his hand up and down my arm in comfort when he feels me crying harder.
Once I pull myself together, I glance over at him and notice his eyes are looking a little wet as well.
“So, the reason I have so much luggage was partly because I overdid the shopping this morning, but also because I brought a few things with me in case we needed them.” Ryan raises his eyebrow in question, so I continue. “I brought some of Hannah’s favourite DVDs, a couple of photo albums, Twister, and a bottle of Apple Sourz.” I can’t help but smile at the thought of them and the memories they bring to mind.
“When I said celebrate, I wasn’t really thinking I’d have to spend a day watching your favourite girly DVDs, but now that you mention it, I think it’s perfect. Thank you for thinking of it, Molly. Why didn’t you say anything when I was taking the piss earlier?”
“I didn’t want to bring it up before it was necessary. Look what it’s done to us!” I laugh, pointing at our smiling yet tear-stained faces. “I don’t know how I would have gotten through this without you, Ryan Evans. Thank you,” I say, cuddling back into him and looking out to the star-filled sky, hoping Hannah is looking down on us, smiling that we’ve made it through together.
“You too, Molly,” he says, sounding a little choked up.
We spent the rest of the night getting drunk, chatting about everything, and nothing. We did cry some more, but we laughed so much that the happy tears blended with the sad. Ryan was right; we needed to celebrate. She was such an incredible person and filled our lives with so much love and joy that it’ll never be possible to forget her.
We eventually turned in in the early hours of Tuesday morning. Somehow, we managed in our drunken states to figure out that there were electronically controlled blinds in the ceiling that came down over the sliding doors, so Ryan wouldn’t be awake as soon as the sun rose. I argued that I was okay to sleep on the day bed as I was crashing his holiday, but, ever the gentleman, Ryan point-blank refused and practically pushed me into the bedroom. I showered and changed into my new pyjamas that I thought were a suitable mix between cute and sexy for a holiday with my best friend, and fell fast asleep.
I wake the next morning to the sound of my mobile ringing. When it stops, I roll over to go back to sleep, but it starts again immediately. Groaning, I open my eyes and try to locate it. By the time I get to it, it stops again. It’s Emma, so I ring her back straight away.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Emma shouts down the line. “How could you?”
“Emma, calm down. What’s wrong?” Silly question, really—her twin died six months ago today. What isn’t wrong? My initial anger at her demanding question dies as my sympathy takes over. I can only imagine how’s she’s feeling today. We all lost so much the day Hannah died, but no one more so than Emma.
“You and Ryan. That didn’t take you fucking long, did it? I knew you were after him the whole time he was with Hannah, and as soon as she dies, in you step to take her place. Now you’re living with him in the house that Hannah practically paid for, and going away on a holiday with him. How could you Molly, h-how c-c-could you?” She starts to sob uncontrollably. The ball of dread that was sitting heavy in my stomach explodes and I fight to speak around the lump in my throat. I can’t help feeling a little guilty even though what she’s saying isn’t really true, I can’t deny the thoughts I’ve had over the last few days. Her words just confirm how wrong it all is.
“Emma, it’s okay. I’m here for you, it’s okay.” I say in what I hope is a soothing voice as she continues to sob. Eventually, her breathing evens out.
“Molly?”
“Yes, hon?”
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly.
“It’s okay. You’re allowed to be angry, and if that needs to be at me, then that’s okay. I’m here for whatever you need.” I speak calmly, trying to forget the beginning of our phone call. I know she’s only being irrational because she’s angry.
“I shouldn’t have said that to you. Mum and Dad just said that you came around on Saturday to tell them you’ve moved in with Ry, and that you were on a holiday with him. I just flipped out, you know? I’m so sorry.”
“Em, really, it’s fine. I tried to get a hold of you over the weekend to explain everything, but your phone was off. I’ll spare you the full details until I see you, but basically, I caught Max cheating, so I went to Ry’s. He offered me his downstairs room instead of me finding somewhere of my own. I love it there with him. He’s been my rock through this, and I think I’ve been his. I wasn’t expecting to be coming on holiday with him. He booked it for himself months ago, but as he has been dealing with Hannah’s death, he realised he didn’t want to come here alone like he planned originally. So, he invited me, and we’ve come to celebrate her. I would never do anything to hurt you, Emma. You know that, don’t you? Ryan and I are just friends. He’s like my brother, just like he is to you.”
“Yeah, I do know that. I’m sorry, I’m just a bit emotional. Hey, he’s one seriously hot brother, though, right? How’s the beach clothing working out for you?” she says, her normal humour starting to creep in.
“Uh, yeah, not a bad view around here actually, now that you mention it. The bay’s pretty nice to look at, too.” She laughs.
“Well, I’ll let you go and celebrate. Sorry I rang so early, I just needed to shout at you.”
“No problem, I’m here for you to abuse anytime you need it. I’ll ring you later and make sure you’re okay. Keep your bloody phone on.”
“Yeah, okay. Talk to you later. Love you.”
“Love you too, bye.”
I pu
t the phone down and lie back down on the bed. “Wow,” I breathe. What a start to the day. That’s when the tears come.
Ryan
The sound of Molly’s voice wakes me up and I walk over to the door to make sure she’s okay. Today is going to be tough for both of us. I put my ear to the door and hear her consoling someone—Emma, I presume.
“Ryan and I are just friends. He’s like my brother, just like he is to you,” she says, and, for some reason, those words are like a slap to the face.
I walk away from the door and put the blinds up, looking out over the bay, trying to gather my thoughts. I lost my girlfriend six months ago today, the woman I loved more than anything, and here I am, upset because her best friend, now my best friend, has just admitted to Emma that I’m like a brother to her. The guilt I’ve been battling over the past few days hits me once again, but this time it’s worse, because I’d told myself she was having similar feelings towards me.
Clearly not.
When my phone also rings and I find my granddad’s photo staring back at me, I rush to answer it. Having lost the woman in his life and forced to move on and continue living, he’s the only one who really understands what I’ve been through.
They got together when they were sixteen, were married by the time they were eighteen, and had one kid and another on the way by twenty. They were what most people would probably describe as the perfect couple. They made everything look so easy, and even after all those years together, they were still so in love.
They’d been retired for just over a year when, one morning, my granddad awoke and my gran didn’t. She’d suffered a heart attack in her sleep and peacefully drifted off.
Falling For Ryan: Part One Page 5