Before You: Standalone Contemporary Romance (14 page)

“I’m such a mess,” I mumbled.

“You’re not that messy,” he whispered.

“I am. I am
such
a mess. I saw you with other girls and...” I sighed. “This isn’t supposed to mean anything.”

I opened my eyes and looked into his. They seemed concerned, worried.

“I know,” he said, continuing to stroke my hair.

“Tell me this feeling is going to go away.”

He sighed heavily. “It’s going to go away, Willa. It has to.”

I closed my eyes again, sleep dragging me under. I was thankful the room wasn’t spinning. “I don’t believe you,” I murmured.

And as I drifted away, I heard his last reply. “Neither do I.”

––––––––

I
woke to an empty bed late the next morning, feeling like absolute crap. I’d made a total fool of myself the night before, and I was pretty sure that I made it pretty obvious I had something going on with André. Milly was going to be pissed at me for lying to her. She wasn’t going to understand that part. Friends aren’t supposed to lie.

When I sat up, I looked to the other side of the bed and realized André hadn’t slept in it. Perhaps he was angry with me too...I wouldn’t blame him. I was a mess. I had no business involving other people in my life.

I closed my eyes, feeling a deep regret for my behavior. Seeing André with that girl had made me foolish. It had made me...jealous. Jealous was a feeling. I wasn’t supposed to be feeling.

I didn’t want to be feeling.

And still. I did. And my chest hurt because of it.

Getting out of bed, I went into my bathroom, did my business then splashed water on my face before filling a glass and drinking some down. My reflection looked terrible. My blue eyes were dull, my hair looked more like mud than chocolate, and my skin was pasty.

“You’re a mess,” I said to myself. “A complete mess.”

I rolled my eyes as I brushed my teeth and a wave of regret hit me as more memories of the night before returned to my mind. I wanted to curl up in a ball for about a century and never drink alcohol again.

After getting dressed into a bright colored sundress to try and offset my complexion, I went downstairs to find André. We needed to talk. I needed to apologize. Maybe we even needed to end things. It was too soon for things to be getting so out of hand.

When I hit the bottom of the staircase, I stopped dead in my tracks. It appeared that André had had the same thought I had. There was a packed bag sitting beside the front door.

My heart picked up a beat. “André?” I called out, trying to keep the panic I was feeling from entering my voice. Why was I freaking out?

I shouldn’t have been freaking out.

“In here,” he responded. I rushed down the hall to the kitchen.

“Are you seriously leaving?” I demanded, the moment I saw him standing at the counter with bread and Nutella in front of him. “The...the movers are coming today. You can’t leave me here on my own.” Even I could hear the hurt in my voice. I so didn’t want it to sound like that. It sounded like I couldn’t be on my own without him. That’s not how it was.

André’s expression changed as he met my eyes, but I didn’t get the chance to figure out what it meant before I was lifted off the ground and spun about in a circle, which was horrible with my hangover.

“Little sis! It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

I squealed as I quickly grabbed onto Dave’s shoulders to steady myself, and when he placed me on the ground, my head was still turning. I touched my forehead to try and steady it. “Dave! When did you get in?”

He gripped my shoulders and held me at arm’s length. “Early this morning. André said you had a bit of a crazy night with your friends last night, so he’s been bringing me up to speed on everything while you slept.”

I looked at André. “Up to speed?”

André didn’t respond. He just held out a sandwich on a plate to me. I took it then sat at the counter next to Dave, waiting for someone to fill me in.

Dave looked between us with a smile on his face. “Yeah. About the move and what not. I really can’t thank you enough for organizing it all, Will. You were a freaking lifesaver, and my career thanks you for it.”

“Well, as long as your career is happy.”

He grinned. “It is. I’m back for Thanksgiving and everything.” He got up off his stool and went to his bag near the door, almost bouncing like a school kid as he yelled out to us from the other end of the house. “You should see the footage. We actually got some poachers on film. I’ll show you.”

I turned to André. “What did you tell him?” I mouthed.

He shook his head to indicate that he’d said nothing.

I let out a relieved sigh and took a bite of the sandwich. I’d never eaten Nutella on bread before; I’d always done the normal thing and eaten it off a spoon, but it was pretty good and was heavy enough to absorb the discomfort that had been sitting in my stomach since I woke up.

“Here it is,” Dave said, re-entering the kitchen with his camera in hand. “I haven’t even transferred it to my Mac yet. Check it out.” He stood beside me and leaned over the counter so the camera’s screen was between André and me.

We had to lean in close to see it. Being near him made me heady. I wanted to turn my head and kiss him. I wanted to take him up to my room...

My heart fell.

With Dave back, there wouldn’t be any more of that.

I closed my eyes tightly.

“It’s OK, Willa. No one gets hurt,” Dave said, taking my reaction to be in response to his video.

André turned his head and met my eyes. I felt as though it was one of the few times I could actually read his eyes. He knew we were over too.

I looked back at the video, saw the flashes from gunfire and heard someone whisper ‘Get down!’ just before the vision got blurry and all you could see was darkness.

BANG. BANG.

My eyes went wide. The edges of my mind, shattering at the sound.

I couldn’t breathe.

I turned to Dave. “Why...” I struggled to take in a breath. “Why did. You. Show me. This?” I was gasping, forcing out each word as my vision blurred.

“What’s happening?” André asked, his reaching out to touch me.

I flinched away.

My head shaking.

Fighting the memory.

Fighting.

Shaking.

“Shit,” Dave said, shutting off the camera and setting it quickly on the counter. “Willa...”

I snapped.

“Calm down, Will. You’re OK. Just calm down. Breathe.”

I couldn’t calm down. My body felt tight, and my mind felt as though it was on fire. The switch had flipped, and I was past being able pull myself back. All I could see in my mind were tombstones and mourners and me. Alone. They were all trying to leave me. They would all be taken from me.

This is why I didn’t want them.

This is why I needed to be alone.

I couldn’t care.

Caring hurt too much.

Everything ended.

“No!” I shouted, stepping him. I was shaking. I couldn’t control it. He reached out and tried to take me by the shoulders. I slapped him away and growled angrily.

He stepped back and held up his hands in a non-threatening gesture. “Willa. Breathe,” he instructed. I could see his face, could see his dark eyes filled with concern as he stood before me, trying to get me to stop. Trying to get me to focus on the now.

But the sounds were there. The same as on the day.  

BANG.

BANG.

SQUEAK.

A buzzing in my ears.

A pressure in my chest.

I couldn’t stop.

I screamed.

“Willa!”

Like an animal, I launched myself at him.

I screeched.

I scratched.

I screamed.

He tried to stop me. Tried to hold me. Tried to calm me down.

I couldn’t stop.

It was all too much.

Too much.

***

“T
hat was stupid. I shouldn’t have showed her. I...I thought she was better. I’m a fucking moron.”

Dave’s voice.

“How long has this been going on?”

An accent – André’s voice.

Beeping. Movement.

“Since our parents died.” Dave.

Their voices sounded far away. It was hard to open my eyes. I felt so heavy.

“She was there?” André asked.

I tried to open my eyes to tell Dave to stop. I didn’t want André to know. I didn’t want anyone to know.

Don’t tell him, Dave. Please. Please don’t tell him.

“Dad jumped in front of her.”

Stop.

“He was shot.”

Please.

“Mom screamed. So he turned his gun on her.”

No more. No more.

“Then he made Willa kneel in between their bodies, put the gun to her head.” Dave’s voice waivered. “That’s when they took him out. She watched the whole thing happen right in front of her. She didn’t speak for a month.”

I felt the dampness of tears as they fell from my eyes.

I hadn’t wanted André to know...

“Jesus,” André breathed.

“It was the wrong place at the wrong time, but she blames herself because they were there buying new clothes for school. She’s been in therapy for years but refuses meds. I thought she was OK. I thought she was normal.”

“I don’t think anyone could be normal after something like that, Dave.”

“Shit. I know. I fucking know. I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have showed her the video. I shouldn’t have asked her to sort out the move for me. I put her under too much stress. And now...shit.”

There was a pause in which Dave looked over at me and met my eyes.

“Willa?” He moved closer, peering down at me with the evidence of my scratches on the side of his face. He took my hand in his. He looked so worried. “Do you know where you are?”

I blinked. More tears fell from my eyes. “Hospital,” I forced out. My throat was so dry. André held out a cup of water for me. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t see his pity. I couldn’t see the knowledge in eyes.

He’d seen me now.

I needed him gone.

“Willa, you should drink.” Dave took the cup from André and put the white bendy straw to my mouth. “You’ve been out for a while. We had to call the ambulance, and the doctors kept you sedated.”

I took a sip of water then turned my face away as I continued to cry. I couldn’t stop. “Why is he here?” I asked in a whisper.

“I’ll go,” André’s voice was a low rumble, and even now it caused my skin to prickle. I closed my eyes and held my breath.

“Thanks for sitting with her,” Dave said.

“It was no problem. Get better, Willa.”

I couldn’t respond. I just held onto my breath until I heard him leave through the door then I let it out slowly.

“I’m sorry, Will. I am the worst brother in the history of all brothers. I was so excited about the footage that I didn’t even think about it setting you off.”

“Does André think I’m a freak?”

“What? No. Of course not. He’s a good guy, Will, he’d never think less of you because you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick. I’m a head case.”

“Willa. Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“Why not? It’s true.” I wiped angrily at my cheeks as tears continued to pour down them. “I heard you tell him what happened. You shouldn’t have done that. He didn’t need to know.”

“Our parents died, Willa. Some asshole who was pissed about losing his job shot them. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, and it wasn’t your fault. And if you talked about it more, maybe you’d feel better.”

“I have talked, Dave. For years and years, I talked and talked. It doesn’t change anything. Talking doesn’t work. Medicine doesn’t work. Most of the time I manage just fine.”

“This is my fault. I shouldn’t have invaded your life the way I did. It was really selfish of me.”

We sat quietly for a moment as he looked down at our joined hands on the white hospital bed.

“If it makes you feel any better, I really didn’t think this would ever happen again either. I thought I had a handle on it.”

––––––––

T
hey kept me under observation for another couple of days then they sent me home with sedatives and weekly appointments with a therapist. I didn’t see it helping. It had never helped before. But I agreed and I went home. And I felt...numb. The safe little world I’d created for myself had changed. People had seen me go off the rails. The mask I wore had slipped and things would change as a result.

Dave was like a hummingbird, hovering around me to make sure I didn’t crack up again. He took time off work, took me to my appointments, and made sure I took my pills so I stayed calm. He turned away my friends when I didn’t want to see them, talking in another room in a quiet voice when they called. He protected me from anything and everything. He was my big brother, and for the first time in a very long time, he acted like it.

André was still there. I would have thought my episode would have scared him off. But he stayed on. He left early each morning and got back late every night. We didn’t speak. Not once did we address what happened – what he saw and what he learned about my past. Nor did we call an end to whatever it was between us. Our arrangement just...changed.

Each night, he would slip into my room after I’d already fallen asleep. He would climb into bed beside me. He would hold me. He would kiss me softly on my bare shoulder. He would gently stroke my hair. He would sleep with me in his arms. Then he would leave before daybreak, and I wouldn’t see him again until the next night. It became routine. The silence between us was a strange comfort to which I grew accustomed far too quickly. 

Everything was changing. 

“I think I need you, André,” I whispered when his warm arm slid around my waist almost two weeks into this new arrangement.

Everything was changing.

I was frightened.

I was needy.

But he made me feel safe.

He rose up on his elbow and looked down into my face, gently running his thumb along the soft skin of my cheek.

“You need me?”

That voice. The accent.

I’d missed hearing it so much.

My body shivered. I closed my eyes and nodded. “I think so.”

When I looked up at him again, his brow furrowed slightly as he studied me with green eyes filled with pain. I couldn’t keep looking so I closed my eyes and turned away.