by L. S. Pullen
“Nathaniel, are you awake?” Nan calls through the door.
Flick clutches the cover and brings it up to her face.
I laugh, shaking my head. “The door’s locked,” I whisper in her ear.
“Yes, I’m just going to grab a shower, and I’ll be down.”
“And what about you, Felicity?”
She pulls the cover off her face and squeezes her eyes shut.
“I won’t be long either,” she croaks out.
When we hear the floorboards creak, and the sound disappear, Flick looks at me. “How did she know I was in here?” she whisper-shouts.
I roll on top of her and pin her hands gently above her head. “Why? Does it bother you?” I reach down and tickle her.
“Nate, stop it,” she squeals, trying to wriggle away.
I shake my head. “Not until you answer my question.”
“Yes, Nate, it does, now please.” She kicks her legs.
I kiss her on the forehead. “Nope, not until you give in and admit that you’re my girl.”
“I mean it, Nate, I’ll wet myself…”
I smile. “Oh, I love it when you talk dirty.” My words only make her laugh harder. I continue to tickle her as she wriggles around like a snake.
“Stop it,” she tries to say it with more conviction.
“I’m sorry, did you say you were my girl?”
“Yes, Nate, I’m yours, now please, stop.”
“Finally,” I say, scooping her up into my lap, “Just as I’m all yours.”
I kiss her on the nose—she likes it when I do that—there’s something about the look she gets in her eyes.
I try to hold back my desire when he does things like this, but it’s hard to hide how he makes me feel. I lean my face towards him and kiss him until we’re both breathless.
I pull back. “I need to go get ready.”
He stands and pulls me to my feet.
“Here, put this on.” He tosses me a hoodie.
I slip it over my head, breathing in the all-familiar scent of Nate. “Thanks,” I say before turning away.
He swats my backside just before I leave.
Back in my room, I stare at my reflection, looking well and truly sated—my hair a tangled mess. I shower in a trance, thinking back over the last two days. I’m just finishing getting dressed when a sound comes from the door between Nana’s room and mine.
“You look radiant this morning,” Nana says when she enters, giving me the once-over and a kiss on the cheek.
I know I’m blushing.
“Morning.” I tie my hair in a plait and pull it over my shoulder.
“So, is it official? Are the two of you together now?”
I half shrug. “Kind of, but I want to take things slow. This is all still kind of overwhelming…”
She sits on the ottoman. “That’s understandable, but you deserve to be happy, Felicity.” She pats the space beside her.
She takes my hand in hers as I sit to join her.
“We had hoped you’d find your way back to one another. Sometimes life has other ideas and gets in the way. I know, now—the real reason Lawry and me weren’t meant to be together—” She looks away, caught in a distant memory, one only she knows. “It was so you and Nathaniel would find your own happily ever after.” She plays with my plait. “Are you sure you don’t want to come back to France with Evie and me…finish the rest of your holiday which was cut short?”
I shake my head. “No, but thank you. Besides, I think it will do you both good to get away.” I lean forward as she pulls me for a hug.
I see the fragility in her so much more, now, and it worries me. It’s as if she’s getting ready to say goodbye, as morbid as that may sound. It’s a worry I carry. She’s always been a light force, no matter what. Even with Sophie and Simon, she treats them like her own. I try to bury the thought of losing her, I know it’s inevitable, but I’m not ready, and neither is she.
Simon is leaning against the kitchen counter when I walk in, coffee in hand, looking right at home.
“Hey, sugar lips.”
“Morning,” I say with a warm smile.
I lift the kettle, giving it a shake, and empty it before re-filling and putting it over the hob and igniting the ring.
“Wow,” he exclaims.
I squint my eyes at him. “Wow…what?”
He waves his hand up and down my body. “You’re glowing.”
I find the cup I want and dig down for a tea bag, before shaking it three times and dropping it in the mug. “Don’t start.”
He leans against the worktop. “I’m not starting anything, but it’s about time, honey.” He places his mug on the counter and pulls me in for a bear hug.
I let out a breath as he lets go, and then I go back to preparing my tea.
“So, will you be staying on for a couple of days now, then?”
I know Nate asked me, but I put it to the back of my mind. I have the new term starting in a few weeks, so it’s not like it would interfere with my work.
“I haven’t had time to think about it.”
He takes the teaspoon from me and taps my nose. “Well there’s really nothing to think about, is there?”
Sophie and Charlie enter. “Morning,” they both say in unison, glancing at each other and shaking their heads like they’re privy to an inside joke. I look at Simon who just shrugs.
“Guys, I’ve got to split. I have shit loads of orders to put in before I miss the deadline.” Charlie swoops me up into a hug that takes my breath away, whispering in my ear. “Look after my boy.” He places me back on my feet and kisses my cheek.
“Come to the bar anytime, that goes without saying. You guys, too.” He steps towards Simon and shakes his hand, pulling him in for that half-hug thingy.
I watch him as he steps in front of Sophie. After a kiss on each cheek, he scans the length of her body so quickly. I would have missed it if I weren’t already watching. He turns to me with a wink before walking away.
“So, all things considered, I think the weekend turned out all right,” I say as I go to grab a cup for Soph.
“Speak for yourself,” she says with a snort.
I instantly feel like a shit friend. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be daft. Besides, I realised last night, even though James hurt me, he doesn’t have the power to hurt me anymore. Granted, I’d rather drink my own urine than ever having to speak to him again, but from what you told me, he’s made his bed now.”
Simon raises his coffee in a toast and takes a sip.
I take the kettle off the hob and pour the water over the tea bags, watching as the colour changes from clear to a burnt gold. “Hey, do you fancy doing something? Just the three of us?” I ask, squeezing the tea bag and dropping it onto the dish. I stir, the clinking of the metal against china soothing me, and add a dash of milk.
“Sorry, kitten, I have a date,” Simon says with a smug look on his face.
I hand Soph her tea. “I have work,” she says with an eye roll.
I twist the bracelet on my wrist. “I might stick around here for a few more days then…”
“Sounds like a plan,” Nate says from behind me.
He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder. I turn my head to look at him, and he kisses the tip of my nose.
“Morning, beautiful,” he whispers in my ear.
My whole body strums to life.
“On that note, are you ready to bust a groove, Simon?” Sophie asks.
He nods, polishing off his coffee.
“You fancy coming to take the old folk to the airport later?” Nate asks.
“Nathaniel, less of the old folk, if you please,” Evie says as she walks over and swats him on the arm.
After Nan and Evie have successfully loaded Sophie and Simon with an abundance of leftover cake, they finally let them leave. I sit at the kitchen table and eye the cheesecake.
“Go on, you know you want to.”
&nbs
p; I laugh and grab a fork, my eyes fluttering shut as the flavours assault my palette.
“You like that, huh?”
I open my eyes. Nate is transfixed on watching me. I push his arm, but he grabs my hand and pulls me towards him, my bum rising from the seat to reach him. He leans, kissing me on the edge of my mouth before a quick flick of his tongue. I flop back on my chair.
“Fucking delicious.”
My knickers feel wet—what the hell is he doing to me? I swallow hard. He raises an eyebrow, knowing the effect he has on me, and now I’m not too sure spending time alone is such a great idea.
“I’m going to go help Nana pack.”
He stands in front of me and rubs my upper arms. “I’ll see you a bit later then, I have some work to do in the garage.” He winks and turns away.
At the airport, I give my Nana a long hug goodbye.
“I’ll be home before your birthday,” she whispers.
I tense, unable to speak. She pulls back, the apology clear across her face. I shake my head in silent warning—I don’t want to make a scene. I concentrate on my breathing. I hadn’t even thought about it with everything that’s been going on—I was too pre-occupied.
Dread consumes me as soon as they are safely through check-in. I excuse myself from Nate to use the ladies’. I can’t control the urge to throw up, my thoughts playing havoc with my subconscious.
I reach for my hairband, and ping it, but realise too late it was my bracelet. It snaps, and I can’t stop the onslaught of frustrated tears. I pick it up and put it in my purse, hoping like hell I can get it fixed.
I gather myself together and leave the confines of the toilets before Nate comes looking for me. His face drops when he sees me, and he’s by my side before I can blink, taking hold of my elbow.
“Shit, you don’t look so good.”
“I don’t feel so good. I think I’ve eaten something that hasn’t agreed with me.”
He pulls me into his side, not picking up on my excuse. He knows full well we all ate the same food.
“Let’s get you home, then.”
He pays for the parking and spots the vending machine where he buys a bottle of water and hands it to me. It’s stupid, but that tiny act has me wanting to cry. I think I preferred it when I didn’t cry over every little thing.
“Thank you,” I say, barely above a whisper.
On the drive home, I begin to relax, closing my eyes to concentrate on my breathing. But when Nate reaches out to touch my leg, I flinch. I turn to look at him and see the hurt on his face. I hate that I was the one to put it there.
“Flick, are you okay?” His eyes dart from the road and back to me.
“No, not really. I think I need to go lay down when we get back.”
As soon as we’re back, I waste no time getting out of the car and make a beeline for my room. I would put money on it that Nate isn’t far behind.
I go straight to my bathroom and slide down the wall, placing my head between my legs, trying to fight the nausea.
“Flick, are you sick?”
I shake my head. “I’ll be fine.”
“Then let me in.”
His words have more meaning than opening the bathroom door.
“I just want to be left alone.”
“Hell no, if you’re ill, I want to be here for you.”
He frustrates me sometimes. I stand, too quickly, my head fuzzy. I inhale a deep breath and pull the door open with more force than necessary. Nate stumbles forward.
“Damn, you look awful.”
“Well, thanks very much,” I say, too harshly.
“I didn’t mean it like that, but I’m worried…just talk to me. Please?”
I sit on my bed and look down, my chin towards my chest, the tension palpable. I hear his heavy footsteps as he walks towards me and sits down.
We sit in silence, our breaths mingling until mine is the same rhythm as his. He takes my hand and interlaces our fingers. My body reacts to him. I rest my head upon his shoulder, and his other hand strokes my hair in a soothing motion. I feel him shift.
“What?” I blurt out.
“Shush, you fell asleep. I was just laying us down.”
I cling to his shirt and rest my face on his chest. His arm tightens around me, and that’s when the silent tears begin to fall. He holds me and lets me know I’m not alone, but when all is said and done, we are alone—in our heads—no one really knowing what Fucked-up-ness goes on up there.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I feel her shoulders begin to shake, my shirt getting wet from her silent tears. What the fuck happened since leaving the airport? She withdrew into herself—like she’s a completely different person from the girl I just spent the weekend with.
I don’t want to push, but as I feel her cry into my chest, it damn well breaks my heart, and I don’t know what the hell to do.
“Flick, baby, what’s wrong?” I can’t hide the crack in my voice, and the last thing she needs is for me to lose my shit.
I hold her a little tighter because I can feel her pulling away from me emotionally. But I won’t give up on us—on her.
I release her once her breathing evens out, tears all dried up. I move away to peer down at her face when a small whimper escapes her lips. I look at my watch—it’s late. When did minutes turn to hours? A vibration in my pocket distracts me. As carefully as I can, I retrieve my phone. It’s a text from Nan—they’ve arrived safe, and I’m to keep an eye on Felicity.
I also have one from Charlie that makes my eyebrows rise. Something about Sophie turning up at his bar a little worse for wear but not to worry, he’ll look after her, but to not tell Flick. Great, let’s start an already rocky relationship hiding secrets.
Hold on. Sophie is half-cut, and Flick is having a meltdown? I pull up the calendar on my phone, putting two and two together. It’s Flicks birthday soon, which means…
“Fuck,” I whisper-shout to myself.
I’m such a self-absorbed arsehole. I thought I heard Ana whisper something about a birthday. I feel sick, my whole body tensing as I grind the hell out of my back teeth.
Flick is restless. Whatever she’s dreaming about, it’s not good. She fidgets, and I try to whisper words to comfort her, to let her know she’s safe, that I’m right here. I’ll always be here.
Tears escape from under her closed lids, and that’s all it takes for me to shed a few of my own. If I could change one thing in the world, it would be that she never had to endure what she did. I’ve never felt so helpless. I need my Gramps now more than ever.
I wake feeling groggy. I have a hangover from hell, and reality floods me. I feel around for Flick, but she isn’t there. The bed is cold without her. Light breaks underneath the bathroom door. I get up and walk over, tapping on it.
“Flick?” I say in almost a whisper.
“Nate,” she responds.
I try the handle and push.
She’s sitting in the empty bathtub, her knees up to her chest, arms wrapped around her. Her hair is wet, and it’s freezing in here. I grab for the nearest towel.
“Fuck, Flick, how long have you been in here?”
She doesn’t answer. As I wrap her in the towel, I see her skin—it looks sore from scrubbing with the loofah by her feet. Her teeth chatter without mercy.
I pick her up underneath her legs, heaving her out, careful as I set her on the toilet seat. Shivers roll off her.
Goddamn it.
I grab one of the hand towels and rub the ends of her dripping hair. I want to take her in my arms—hold her or shake some sense into her—but what good will that do? I can’t bear the distance between us. I help her up and sit so I can pull her into my lap and wrap her in my arms. Her skin is glacial. I rub her back, hoping to generate heat.
“Sorry,” she finally whispers.
I say nothing as I stand, keeping her cradled in my arms while I walk back into the bedroom.
I sit her on the ottoman and pick up the hairbrush. Slip
ping in behind her, so she’s between my legs, I brush her hair as gently as I can. I remember watching Ana doing this to her as a kid. Her hair always reminded me of a lion’s mane.
The hairdryer is plugged in on the dresser, so I reach for it and slide the button. The hum is soothing. She closes her eyes. Ana would have put it in one of those plait-thingies, but that so isn’t going to happen. I pull the hair tie from the handle of the brush and manage to pull it into a shit poor ponytail.
I pull my t-shirt off. “Up,” I say, tapping her arms, pulling her arms through the sleeves of the shirt and slipping it over her head.
I guide her to the bed and sit her down. She pulls herself into the foetal position. I switch off the lamp, but when an audible gasp escapes her, I turn it back on.
“You want me to leave it on?” I ask.
She nods.
I climb into bed next to her and pull her back against my chest, wrapping her in my arms. She grips hold of my hand like a vice.
“Sleep, I’ve got you,” I whisper, and kiss the back of her head.
Flick
I had a full-on meltdown when we arrived back from the airport. I kept pushing Nate away, but even when he found me in the bathroom, an utter mess, he stayed. The nightmare I woke up to was so vivid. I couldn’t expel the smell from my nose or the residue left on my skin. It was all too real. No matter how hard I scrubbed, how hot I had the water, I still felt dirty.
He was so patient and tentative as he dried my hair. All the while, I sat there—an echo of the girl he spent the weekend with—hollow, emptiness engulfing me. I wondered what he would be like if we ever had a daughter. Would he leave us like my father did? Replace us with new, better versions?
The dream I woke up to just now was even worse—all my fears played out like a nightmarish symphony. In it, Nate told me how he could never love me, not really. I saw pity in his eyes, disgust as he pushed me away.
It would be so easy to let him in, only to ruin me completely. I’m a coward, though, and the truth is, the one I trust the least is myself. He would hold the power, the ability to shatter my heart into a kaleidoscope of fragmented pieces that I could never repair. James did it to Sophie. Her parents did it to her. My father did it to my Mum and me.