CORAL (A Romance Trilogy, Book 1) (47 page)

“Fancy going over to the house
today?” He asks making me jump. I hadn’t noticed him come back in.

“Sure.” I say finally finishing
my salad, which was delicious.

“Will you tell me now?” He asks
solemnly. And I know what he’s asking.

“No!” I bark. Tristan sighs
heavily then nods in resignation.

“Ok, well I thought we could go
to the house, choose what kind of furniture we would like, where it can go, and
then go and see if we can find it.”
Ok, I think this is going way too fast!

“You don’t want to do that?” he
says, his eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed. He runs his hand through his hair
in frustration. “What’s wrong Coral?” He barks.

I sigh inwardly. Why is he asking
about furniture shopping, when he knows I have work this afternoon, unless…
Joyce
has already told him?
Then I think maybe Tristan has told Joyce about
staying over and thinking back on it, she wants me to spend more time with
Tristan.

“Did you ask Joyce to give me the
day off?” I question, my eyes narrowed. Tristan instantly looks guilty. “You
did!” I screech. “Tristan,” I scold. “You shouldn’t have done that.” I add,
feeling agitated that I am losing all sense of control.

“It wasn’t like that,” he tells
me sheepishly.

“Really? Enlighten me Tristan,
how exactly was it?” I growl –
I’m so pissed at him.

“Coral, it was very innocent, we got
talking and I told her that.....well, we seem to be really getting along and
that you’re going to spend some time at the house with me this weekend. She
knows I’m going back Wednesday’ – Tristan sighs heavily – ‘I told her about
your offer to help me find some furniture, she thought it was a nice gesture,
so she offered to give you the afternoon off so we could – “Ok, I’ve heard
enough.” I snap – I have to get away from him.

I stomp my way up the stairs. When
I get to my bedroom I plonk myself down on my bed and close my eyes, trying to
work out why I’m feeling so pissed about it. Is it because I feel as though my
life is being planned for me? That I’m losing control? Or am I just annoyed
about it all? I wanted to go back to work. I like having that sense of
normality, routine, and for the first time ever it’s been taken away from me –
without my approval!

I hear the bottom stair creak.
“Can I come up?” His voice sounds torn. How can I deny him?

“Sure.” I open my eyes and sit cross
legged on my bed. Tristan runs up the stairs, then tentatively walks the couple
of steps needed to be next to me, and hesitantly sits down. His face is as
white as a ghost; he looks lost, torn. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I thought
that you would like it, spending more time with me, and so did Joyce.”

“It’s not that,” I grumble.

“Then what is it?” He softly
asks.

“I just...don’t I get a say?” I
gripe.

“I...I thought’ – “Tristan,” I
lean in closer to him, I need him to understand. “I like my routine, having a
stable job to go to everyday gives me a sense of purpose. And with all the
madness that goes on in my head, for that to just be stripped away from me
without any say’ – “That’s what it feels like to you?” he interrupts.

“Yes,” I whisper in exasperation.

“Most people would love being
given time off’– “Don’t,” I tell him. “Don’t go there, I’ve already told you
I’m not like other people.”

“So you don’t want to spend more
time with me?” He questions.

“It’s not about that!” I shout.
“Don’t you get it? I crave control Tristan and having this job gives me that.
Having two people I thought cared about me conniving behind my back so I can’t
go to work feels like entrapment to me.” I bellow running my hands through my
hair in frustration.

“I...I didn’t know you felt that
way.” He says, frowning at the floor.

“That’s because you didn’t ask!”
I shout, my temper getting the better of me.

“I think I should go.” Tristan
says standing up sharply. I almost go to agree with him, it’s my chance to let
him go, but something deep within me tugs at my heart,. It feels like it’s
being crushed again – by the steel hand.

“Tristan,” I whisper, instantly
regretting my little rant. “Please stay.”

“I don’t think that’s a good
idea,” he tells me.
Shit! What have I done? I don’t want him to leave!
I
scramble to my feet, stand in front of him and tug on his hand.

“Please, don’t go,” I beg leaning
my forehead against his chest. “I...I’ll tell you more,” I barter.

“More?” He questions.

“Yeah...a-about me,” I stutter.

“You don’t need to do that Coral.
I just thought you’d be happy to spend more time with me, that’s all.” I look
up at his face, I can see I’ve hurt him –
Damn it!

“I do want to spend more time
with you. It’s just...it would have been better being done a different way,
that’s all. Like Joyce actually asking me instead of telling me.” I say
throwing my hands in the air.

“Do you have a problem with
authority?” He titters lightly.

I smile back at him. “Yeah I kind
of do,” I say.

“Bet you were a real pain in the
ass as a teenager,” he says taking my face in his hands and running his thumbs
across my cheekbone.

“You have no idea!” I chuckle
lightly, Tristan joins in.

“So are we shopping?” He asks
playfully.

“Yes.” I beam, reeling at the
thought of helping him furnish his house.

“Ok.” He leans forward and kisses
my forehead.

“I need a few minutes.” I say.

“I’ll wait for you downstairs,”
he says, then softly strokes my cheek.

As Tristan scuttles back down the
stairs, I stop and think for a moment about the future, which I know I
shouldn’t do, but I can't help it. I envisage my life without him, going to
work, the gym, seeing Rob occasionally. It makes me realise how deeply
Tristan’s got under my skin, in just a few short days.

I think about how scared I am,
and how quickly this is all going. I know he wants me to move in with him, that
he wants to marry me, but I’m just not there yet. I close my eyes and imagine
saying goodbye to him, walking away…A huge crater opens within me, it’s dark
and barren, torn and twisted, I quickly think of the flip side.

Tristan’s house is what I see.
I’m sitting outside on the decking, soaking up the sunset with a glass of wine.
I look back inside and see Tristan is putting the finishing touches to the meal
he’s made. Then I watch him walk towards me, a big dimpled smile spread across
his face.

The image shifts and I’m alone in
the house taking a soak in the bath, I hear Tristan come home. Then he’s next
to me, he’s naked and he’s joining me in the bath, he starts massaging my
shoulders, it feels wonderful –“Coral!” Tristan shouts. I jump feeling
startled, then giggle at myself.

“Coming,” I shout back. I find my
wedges, pull them on and run down the stairs to Tristan.

“So where to?” he asks.

“Depends what kind of furniture
you’re looking for?” I say.

“What do you think?” he asks.

I narrow my eyes at him.
“Tristan, this is your house, not mine.”

“Hmm, did you like how it was
furnished?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“And the rooms? Keep them as they
are?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

“I want you to be happy there.”
He says shrugging slightly.

“Liar!” His mouth twists trying
to hide his smile.

“Alright, I do have an ulterior
motive…but I think it’s too early to say anything,” he says, looking nervous.

“Say it.” I push. He shakes his
head at me. “Tristan!” I warn. “You won’t build trust with me if I know you’re
hiding something.”

“Fine! I was going to ask you to
move in with me, when you’re ready. It’s in the future, I know that, but I
would have it instantly happen, and I want this place to feel like it’s just as
much your home as it is mine.”

My mouth pops open. “Move in with
you?” I whisper.

He moves forward and gently
strokes my cheek. “One day, not now,” he says calming me. “I just want to know
what you thought of the furnishings, the layout.”

“Perfect.” I answer, his eyebrows
shoot up in surprise.

“Really?” He questions.

“Yes, I thought all the rooms
were perfectly appointed. The office, the library and as for that sofa…” I
drift off.

“So basically replicate what we
viewed?”

“Yes, if that’s what you like
too?”

“Oh baby…” He crushes me to him,
inhaling my hair, my scent maybe, like I’ve done with him. “Perfectly matched,”
he whispers.

Ok, now I’m excited. If we can
get that house looking like it did, that would be awesome. Tristan smiles down
at me and kisses me softly, then takes my hand in his and we head out into the
blazing heat of the afternoon…

TRISTAN OPENS THE DOOR TO THE WAITING JAGUAR
. I smile tentatively at him and slip inside. I feel like I’ve been
rattled to pieces. My head is spinning, that was a hard session with George, not
that I was honest with him – which he won’t be happy about if he finds out.

“How did it go?” Tristan asks,
clasping my hand in his. I feel a little hesitant to answer him. I don't want
Stuart to overhear our conversation.

“Good,” I answer, not wanting to
give away anymore and gaze out of the window.

Yesterday when we had finished
our mad shopping spree, Tristan asked me if I wanted to stay at his house while
he’s away, but I declined. Seeing it again made me remember how I was feeling
about him when we first viewed it; how scared I was, still am if I’m honest. In
fact, the more I think about it, the more I can feel myself spiraling down,
withdrawing into myself, shutting myself away from him. Just thinking about him
leaving tomorrow is filling me with dread.

I swallow hard and try to chase
away the horror.

Of course, I didn’t tell George
any of this, because I know what he will say, that I’m self-destructing the
relationship, but I don’t think he’ll ever understand me, not truly. But he did
say that Tristan leaving was probably a good thing, get some perspective, some
distance – I frown at that thought, I’m not sure I actually want distance? But
at the same time I do – I’m so confused, why can’t I just feel fucking normal,
for one day…

“Coral?” Tristan prompts.

“Hmm,” I turn and look at
Tristan, he looks worried.

“How did it go?” He asks again.

“Good.” I repeat.

I hope this isn’t how it’s going
to be – Tristan drilling me every time I come back from a session, because I
just can’t take that, and I don’t want to open up too much to him. Things are
going so well at the moment, and I don't know why, but I keep getting the
feeling that he’ll run a mile when he finds out about me, I know he will.

Because as much as George keeps
telling me I can heal and repair, I’m not so sure I can, or will. Being scarred
so badly as a child changes everything. When you’re a kid, you should be able
to trust the adults that are around you, and when you realise you can’t, your
whole world view changes, completely.

Tristan laughs sarcastically at
me. I glance across at him. “So full of information as usual,” he bites.

“I know what you want,” I tell
him staring out the window, watching the world go by.

“I don’t think you do,” he
argues.

“You want to know everything,” I
retort.

Tristan sighs heavily as Stuart
pulls up outside the gym. I watch him jump out and walk round to my door; he
pulls it open and holds out his hand to me.

“I want you to open your heart to
me,” he says as I place my hand in his. I step out the car and stare down at
the floor.

“I’m trying Tristan, but the more
you keep asking, the more I’ll pull away.” He lifts my chin, leans down and
gently kisses my lips. I hear the car pull away. “Tristan,” I whisper wrapping
my hands around his neck. “What if I can’t ever tell you? Would you be
satisfied with that?”

He softly kisses me again. “I
wouldn’t really have a choice, would I?” he says. “Let’s not fight,” he adds,
wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “I’m leaving tomorrow, this is our last
night together. Want to go through more booklets for furniture tonight?”

“Sure.” I smile tentatively at
him and we walk arm in arm towards my studio.

What I really want to do – which
I can’t tell him - Is go straight upstairs and try the one and only skirt I
have on. I want to know if the Hypnotherapy has started working.

I unlock the patio door, walk
inside and without looking back at Tristan I go straight up the stairs.
Reaching my closet I start pulling the neatly piled clothing out to get to the
skirt at the back of the shelving, but I can’t reach it –
God damn it!