“I’ll come and pick you up. Where are you?”
I give him the location, and he picks me up within five minutes of our hanging up from one another. After hopping out of the car in George and Carol’s driveway, and making my way into the house, I immediately spot my overnight bag that's resting in the entranceway. “What’s my bag doing down here?” I ask while Carol makes her way towards us.
She comes to a halt in front of me. “The ever romantic Tristan, here,” she points in his direction. “Has arranged a two-day getaway for the pair of you.” Carol beams with excitement.
My heart melts from the gesture, I look over at Tristan and smile. “This is one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me, but I can’t go. Dad’s health is going from bad to worse with each passing day. I’m so sorry, but I just can’t.” It breaks my heart having to say no to Tristan, but I don’t have all that much time left to spend with my father. That and the fact that I came on this trip with him, so someone was there for him at all times.
“Your dad will be okay, Cassie. I promise I will call you if there are any changes,” Carol tries to assure me, but it’s still not enough to convince me to leave town. She then comes forward and places her hands on my shoulders. “You’ve done so much more than anyone could ever have imagined for your father, but you’re still eighteen. You still need to have some joy and happiness in your life. You need a break, Cassie.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
And that’s when I see George approach. He walks straight up to me, Carol drops her hands and moves back to make room for him. I want to walk away before he begins to tell me that ‘I need this,’ and that ‘I'm so young, so I deserve to go off and have a dirty weekend while my father lies dying in his bed.’
.“Yes, you can. You’ve been amazing with your father, Cassie. You deserve some time off. Here.” He hands me a rectangular-shaped box.
“What is it?” I ask, confused. I turn the box on its side, trying to find a clue.
“It’s one of the new iPhones.”
I gaze upwards. “I already have a phone, Uncle,” I tell him.
He smiles. “I know you do, love, but this one has a SIM card and phone plan from Ireland, so you’ll not be billed for overseas minutes, and you are guaranteed to have reception. I bought it so you can leave with a clear mind knowing you will be contactable at all times, both here and for those you talk to in Australia.”
I stand in silence, still unsure of whether I can leave dad or not. “Thank you,” I tell George. “But I don’t think I can do it.” I’m baffled. My family has been trying to get me to stay over at Tristan’s for some time out, something Karan, Brendan, George, and Carol came up with, but I wouldn’t. Hell, Tristan’s home is only behind us, and I still won’t go. What the hell makes them think I’ll leave Belfast?
Carol moves forward and she places her hands on my shoulders so I have to look into her eyes. “We’ve already run the idea past your father, and he too thinks you could do with a couple of days off. Cassie, there’s nothing you can do here. You’re still young. Go off and have some fun.” She pulls me in for a hug. I wrap my arms around her, but I stay silent. When she pulls away, she sternly tells me, “Now, stop being difficult and have a good time.”
I take a very deep breath and slowly let it out. I know that no matter how much I fight my family, they’ll strap me in Tristan’s car and they'll make sure he doesn’t set me free until we reach our destination.
They patiently wait for my response, and eventually, I concede. “Well, if Dad says it’s okay, then I guess I’m going.” I look over at Tristan. “I’m going to go up and say goodbye to him before we go,” I feel utterly defeated.
He leans in and kisses my temple. “Of course, take your time, baby girl.”
I take the stairs two at a time until I reach the landing, then walk around the corner and into my father’s room. As I enter, I immediately see he's lying in bed, reading the paper. He hears me coming and lowers it so he can see me. “Hi, love. I hear you’re going away for the weekend?” He folds the paper in half and places it on his lap.
I take a seat on the edge of the bed. “Apparently so. I won’t go if you don’t want me to. I’m more than happy to stay here,” I say as I absentmindedly run my hand across the soft sheets.
“I don’t think so, love. I want you to go and have some fun. You don’t need to be here every minute of every day, Cassie. Have you seen how many people Carol and George have on staff in the house? I’ll be surrounded by work staff, family, and friends. Go and live your life, my love. Mine might be ending, but yours is just beginning.”
I make eye contact with him. “Dad, you know in your heart you don’t have much longer. I don’t want to look back at this time and have regrets.”
He reaches forward and takes my hand in his. “You need to stop fretting over me. You need to go and spend time with Tristan. I know you love him, and I also know you will be together, forever. Now, go and start your forever.”
My eyes fill with tears. “Okay,” I concede. “I’ll go, but there’s one condition.”
“And what’s that?” he answers, skepticism lingering over the words as they leave his mouth.
I raise my free hand and point my finger at him. “That you promise to call me if you begin to feel shithouse. And that you will stop acting as if you're fine when I fucking know for a fact, you aren’t, Dad. I know all the shit that’s going on with you is happening a lot fucking faster than those stupid doctors told us it would, but that is the exact reason I need you to accept the help that’s offered to you. Got it?” My finger’s almost touching his nose, in warning. But the only thing it’s doing is making my father chuckle at my expense. It seems I’m not as scary as I like to think I am.
He raises his hand like a boy scout. “I promise to call you if anything changes.” And he giggles, he fucking giggles at me.
I shake my head desperately trying not to laugh. “Good.”
Now it’s his turn to point his finger, but not at me, no, he’s pointing towards the door. “Now get your ass out of here and have some fun.”
I roll my eyes in exaggeration. “Fine. Keep your phone on you at all times. You know I'll come straight home if you don’t answer it, alright?”
The bastard giggles again. “I will. Now piss off out of here and have a lovely weekend.”
“I’m going.” I lean down to kiss him on the cheek.
“I love you, Cassie.”
“Love you too, Dad. I’ll see you in a couple of days?” It’s more of a question, a question I need to be answered before I attempt to leave.
He nods and is full of confidence, he knows exactly what I’m asking. I need to know that in two days, he’ll still be alive. That I wouldn’t forever regret the decision to go away for a couple of days. “I will be here,” he assures me.
When I reach the bottom of the stairs to say goodbye to George and Carol, I make them promise on their lives that I will be the first phone call they make if anything changes or happens to my dad. It isn’t until they reluctantly agree, that I decide I’m okay to go. I know my aunt and uncle, would never break a promise, especially when it's about something so important to me.
I leave through the front entrance and climb into Tristan’s gorgeous, black Ferrari. “So, where are we headed to?” I ask.
“My parents’ holiday home in Southern Ireland.”
“That sounds cold. You do know I’m from Australia, right?”
Tristan begins laughing. “Yes, baby girl. I know you’re from the land down under. But no matter where you go in Ireland, there’s no such thing as warmth.” He takes my hand in his and continues to drive the car down the driveway and out through the massive gates.
As it turns out, we weren’t driving the entire way to Southern Ireland, it turns out that Tristan’s family also owns a jet. Of course, they do.
The inside is very similar to the one my family owns and just as comfortable.
&
nbsp; We snuggle up together on one of the recliners, and watch movies for the three-hour flight, and let me tell you, I ate far too much food. It was so amazing, I couldn’t stop myself. They had all of my favorite cheeses, and like the pig I am, I gobbled it all up.
“I’m going to have to get on the treadmill for an extra couple of hours after eating all of that amazing cheese,” I tell Tristan while holding my now bloated belly.
He cups my face in his hands and kisses me. “You’re perfect, cheese belly and all,” he laughs.
Once we'd landed, Brendan had arranged for his BMW to be waiting at the other end for us. Tristan takes the wheel because I have no fucking idea where we are, and drives the twenty minutes to his family’s home.
“We’re here,” he announces as we pull into the driveway. I look up, and I instantly fall in love with the house. It’s very old-fashioned looking, and the only difference between this one and others I’ve seen on our journey is that this one is five times the size.
I sit forward in my seat to take it all in. “Oh my God, Tristan. This is one of the most beautiful houses I've ever seen. I love this style of home. A country-themed property has always screamed family to me,” I tell him while still focusing on the structure.
When the car comes to a stop, and Tristan has put it in park, I hop out. My eyes skim every inch of the weathered wood, and I feel Tristan’s arm snake around my waist. “Mam’s always had a good eye for these sorts of things. Come on, I’ll show you the inside.” He takes my hand and leads me through the front door.
Once we enter, I drop my handbag on the hall table and continue to look around in awe. The ceilings are high, the cornice is hand-carved, and every accent is made of solid oak.
Soon enough, he brings me to a closed door. His hand is on the knob, but before he opens it, he turns his head to face me. “This is a room I know you'll fall in love with.”
I wait in anticipation. When he opens the doors, I can see why he thinks I will love it. The room’s walls are lined with books; they’re everywhere. I take a step inside and sniff the air, I love the smell, it’s a smell that needs to be bottled. The scent of old paper, leather, and ink. I loosen my grip on Tristan’s hand, and as I walk over to the shelves, I run my fingers over the spines of the novels. “It’s so beautiful.”
“It is, but there’s more to see. I promise we can come back after dinner, and you can sniff it all you like.” I look over at him with a pout. “You’re so cute,” he tells me as he leans in and presses his lips to mine.
Tristan takes my hand and leads me to the next room. It’s the dining room, and when I look down at the table, I smile like a kid that had a tub of ice cream placed in front of them with a spoon. My eyes meet his, and my smile widens when I see his cute face. “Did you call ahead and have my favorite meal made just for me?” I ask as I look down at the chicken parmigiana that has a side of Mac and cheese.
“Guilty. I want the next two days to be perfect for you.” He comes closer and wraps me up in his arms. “I don’t want you to worry about anything that’s going on outside of this house and just enjoy yourself. You have a lot going on at the moment, Cass. And this is just the beginning. I know that the worst is yet to come, so I wanted to cheer you up by bringing you out here.”
I tilt back my head and brush my lips against his. “Thank you,” I whisper.
He pulls me so I’m flush against him. “You’re more than welcome. Come on, let’s eat some fatty carbs.”
I do my best to finish my meal, but after having eaten so much cheese on the flight, I am quickly stuffed. Like if someone was to kick me in the gut right now, I’d explode like that dead dude did in the movie Seven, with Brad Pitt.
Tristan, bless him, starts a fire in the living room and we curl up together on the sofa. I feel safe in his arms like nothing could hurt me as long as I’m with him. Something I need to feel, at this point. I love that he wants to get me away from all of the stress that is cancer, but I know this is the calm before the storm.
I keep trying to empty all of the negative thoughts from my mind, but there are just too many of them to try and ignore. I do need to get Courtney to Ireland, sooner than expected, so she has a chance to make amends and see her father before he's gone, forever. I worry that our asshole mother might not even let Courtney make the journey here. There is so much to do, and I don’t even know what kind of timeframe we’re working with now.
As I continue the internal battle, Tristan brushes my hair away from my forehead. “What are you thinking about? Your body is tense suddenly. Are you okay?” he whispers in my ear.
I reach down and lace my fingers with his. “Honestly, no. I’m so grateful to you and my family for making me get away for a short time, but so far all it has done is make me worry more.”
He moves beneath me turning so he's looking at me. “Is there anything I can help with?”
He is the sweetest person alive. “I don’t think so, Hun. There is so much that needs to be sorted. Soon. My dad wasn’t supposed to be this sick this fast. I think he’s secretly happy he’s home, I mean Ireland, but that puts a lot of different factors I wasn’t counting on into play.”
“I’m sorry you are going through this, but I need you to know that I’m here for you. I don’t want to be a fling you talk about when you go back to Australia. I want to be with you, Cassie. I want to be the one you turn to when you feel you can’t cope anymore. The one you fall asleep with at night.” He presses his lips to mine. “And the one you wake up with, in the morning.”
Never, have I ever had anyone say something so beautiful to me before. I want to tell him right now, that I love him, but I don’t want to be the first to say it. I did it with Mitchell, and it was an utter disaster.
It was six months into our relationship. We were making out in my bungalow, one night when we were meant to be watching a movie. I'd thought for some time that I loved him, and I was sick of waiting for him to say it to me. Looking back now, I don’t ever think he would have uttered the words if I hadn't first.
So, we were making out, the movie Ted was on the screen, and I pulled back, looked into his eyes, and said the dreaded words ‘I love you.’ Well, I should have known from his reaction that he didn’t love me because the only response I got was ‘thank you.’
Later that night, after he'd left, I stupidly cried myself to sleep. I didn't utter those words again, not until he came to me and said them. I guess it was a false sense of hope I was clasping onto. I don’t want to do that with Tristan. If I looked up at him right now, uttered the words and he came back with nothing, or Mitchell’s famous ‘thank you,’ I know my heart would be broken into pieces.
“I also don’t want to wake without you being by my side,” I whisper. Tristan wraps me up in his arms where I feel safe, and we fall asleep.
The next morning, I wake to Tristan brushing my hair away from my face. “Good morning.” He smiles.
“Morning,” I say as I stretch my arms over my head.
“Did you sleep okay?”
“Even though we’re on the sofa, I did,” I say as I tuck my head into the nook of his neck.
“Good. So, I know you’re stressed out with everything going on, but do you think you could shove the fear aside for long enough to have some fun?”
I lift my head and give him a questioning look. “Maybe. What kind of fun are you talking about?”
His smile is broad and devious. “Hop up and throw on a T-shirt, jeans, and trainers.”
“What are we doing?”
“Just do it.” He laughs. “I swear you’ll love it. You know I wouldn’t make you do anything you wouldn’t want to.”
I roll my eyes and try to hold back a smile. It doesn’t work. Once I’ve changed, I make my way through the back of the house where I'm met by Tristan, who, by the way, has managed to make sweats and a T-shirt look hot as fuck.
The gray of his shirt highlights his tanned skin and his sky blue eyes. I rub my legs together trying to lessen the ac
he. So to distract myself, I look around, and that is when I see that Tristan is standing between two four-wheel ATVs.
I’ll be straight with you, my whole life I’ve wondered if I was meant to be born a boy. I do love being a female, but I just don’t have the desire to be in heels and slathered in make-up, all the time. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it is nice to dress up for a special occasion, but I would never want it to be an everyday thing. I like to get dirty. I like to wrestle with my friends, ride skateboards, motorbikes, and play in the mud. I love cars. But I'd also melt if someone were to hand me a blue box from Tiffany’s. “I can’t wait to get these going,” I tell him while looking at the dirt bikes.
When I reach Tristan, I give him a peck on the cheek. “I knew you’d like it. Come on, let’s get dirty,” he says and then throws me a helmet.
Tristan’s holiday house rests on one hundred and forty-two acres. While we ride around the property, I don’t think about my problems, or how to fix them. I let myself live in the moment, I let myself get swept up in Tristan’s world.
We spend countless hours getting muddy and laughing until my sides ache. It’s exactly what I needed. In the back of my mind, I know this won’t last forever, but it doesn’t matter. It’s as if I have found myself again. I have found the version of me that existed before cancer took over, and before I had the fights with my mother. I know I owe it all to Tristan. And I can reassure you he will be thanked very thoroughly later on in the evening.
At around four o’clock, we decide to head back to the house. After climbing off the ATV, I glance down at my now mud-caked clothing, and tell him, “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Okay, baby girl. I’m going to grab a drink.” He wraps his hands around my waist and kisses me. “I may join you soon.” He smirks.
I grab at his sides, bringing him closer to me. “I'd love that.”
After an extended kiss, I head to the bathroom, turn the shower on, strip the mud-covered clothing off of my skin and climb in. The warm water feels so unbelievably amazing as it cascades over my body, warming me. I may have had fun today, but damn that mud was freezing.
The Beginning Page 16