CORAL (A Romance Trilogy, Book 1) (48 page)

I’m right on the tips of my toes,
my arm stretched to breaking point, when I hear Tristan behind me. “What are
you doing?” he asks. I stop stretching and turn to look at him. I can see he’s
looking around at all the clothes strewn all over my bed trying to work out
what I'm doing. I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel really shy, I look down
at my knotted fingers.

“Are you looking for something?”
He softly asks. I nod my head at him. “Need some help?” I finally look up at
him –
Please God don’t let him ask why? Or any other questions!

“Yes please.” Tristan takes the
few steps needed to reach me. “There’s a Jane Norman bag at the back, can you
see it?” Tristan looks up, then leans forward and effortlessly pulls the bag
out. He silently hands it to me, I can see he’s dying to ask what’s in the bag.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

“Want some help putting these
away?” he asks politely. I really want him to leave, but I know my short arse
can’t reach up to put it all away.

“Please.” I carefully put the bag
down so it doesn’t reveal what’s inside, then I start passing the clothes to
Tristan who neatly stacks them. When were done we end up gazing at one another
again.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he says a
look of concern etched across his face. Tristan leans down and without touching
me at all, he softly presses his lips against mine. I close my eyes
surrendering to the sensation, when I open them he is gone. I didn’t even hear
any of the stairs creak.

Nervously, I pick up the bag and
sit on the edge of the bed -
Well here goes nothing!

Pulling my jeans off, I pull the
skirt out of the bag, closing my eyes for a second I hug it to me and say a
little prayer that I won’t freak out. Standing up, I undo the zip and step my
first foot in, then the second. Slowly and hesitantly I pull the skirt up and
around my waist, then carefully pull the zip up.

Taking a deep breath I prepare
for the panic attack, for the shaking, for the palpitating heart, but a couple
of minutes in and my breathing is normal, my heartbeat is slow and I’m not
having hot or cold flushes. I fall back onto the edge of the bed and choke back
tears of relief, saying a silent prayer of gratitude to Cindy and George, if it
wasn’t for them – then an image flashes in my mind’s eye –
No!
– My five
year old self is sat on that man’s lap.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to
push the image away and yank the skirt off. Ok, Ok so it’s going to need more
work but that’s never happened before, I’ve never been able to put a dress or
skirt on without my body going into freefall and it didn’t, I just got the
mental image!
Good, this is good – I can tell George and Cindy about it all.

Putting the skirt back in the bag
and hiding it under my bed, I pull my jeans back on and skip down the stairs.
Tristan is sitting on the sofa, with his laptop on his legs, I can see he’s
concentrating hard, so I stand staring at him for a moment.
What the hell
have I done to deserve this man?

Suddenly, he looks up and smiles
warmly at me. “Hey,” Tristan shuts his laptop and pats the sofa next to him. I
grin like an idiot and walk over to him. “I’m missing my kisses,” he says.
Pulling me onto his lap. He kisses me hard, scattering all thoughts. I chuckle
lightly at his ardour.

“What?” He smiles deeply at me.

“Nothing,” I say shaking my head.

“So do you want to go through
more books?” he asks sweetly.

I don’t think I do, we have
already seen so much furniture and have so many items ready to be delivered on
Saturday, that the very thought of it is boring me to death. Tristan has given
me his word he will be back Friday night, I’m missing him already.

“I have a better idea,” I say and
pull his lips to mine…

IT’S FRIDAY AFTERNOON AND I’M AT WORK
. I cannot stop jigging up and down in my seat. I’m so excited to
see Tristan again, but also very nervous. I’ve had lots of time to think while
he’s been away. I’ve tried to rationalise my feelings for him, but the harder I
try, the more I keep coming to the conclusion that I am, for all intense and purposes,
deeply and irrevocably in love with him – which scares me to death.

I don’t feel like I’m ready for
this, it’s just all happened so fast. Yet, when he left on Wednesday morning, I
felt like the hole that has always been there in my chest had been torn wide
open again, and I just wanted him back in my arms to fill it back up. George
told me that might happen; that it is one of the consequences of falling in
love –
Me in love?
It’s still quite hard to believe.

I’ve tried to feel excited about
it, I mean most people do when they fall in love, but instead I have felt lost,
no compass, no bearing, like I’m a tiny blip in the ocean, never to be found
again. Maybe that’s because I have missed him so much, I feel like he’s been
gone for two months, not two days.

It actually hurts to think about
him, and when I do the ache becomes more prominent, so I’ve been trying and
failing badly not to picture him, or feel his arms around me, or his gorgeous
full lips kissing mine.

I have been back at work since
Wednesday. Against Joyce’s wishes I caked my face in makeup so you couldn’t see
the bruising, marched into work and demanded she let me come back. I couldn’t
stay at my studio, it reminds me of Tristan too much. His smell is everywhere,
and I keep picturing him sitting on my sofa, smiling his sexy smile at me. And
every time I try to do something to take my mind off him, like reading or
watching a movie, I get fidgety and restless. It’s driving me crazy, literally.

I knew the moment I watched him
walk out of my studio – after kissing me for an eternity – that I wanted him
forever. But the more I think about that, the more I feel myself withdrawing,
it feels safer like that, I can’t get hurt again. But being with Tristan has
also made me realise what I’ve been missing, how good love can really feel. I
have pictured his face a thousand times as I try to tell him goodbye, and every
time I do, it literally cripples me.

I close my eyes and remember back
to Wednesday night, I thought it was going to be the hardest night of my
existence – turns out it wasn’t. Tristan called me and we spent hours on the
phone. I eventually fell asleep to him humming Some Enchanted Evening to me –
again. I’m never going to be able to listen to that tune without thinking of
him, but maybe that was his plan?

My phone rings pulling me from my
musing. I answer it in a daze, it’s the call Joyce was expecting so I pass it
through to her.

Picking up my handbag, I pull out
the set of keys Tristan gave me and start fiddling with them, I’m so restless.
When I agreed to take delivery of his bed yesterday, I didn’t expect to feel so
odd when I went to the house. It took them ages to get the king-size bed up the
two flights of stairs, which gave me too much thinking time.

I wondered around the house in a
daze, checked out the pool and cinema room, which I hadn’t seen, and then
drifted back upstairs. I walked past the kitchen, and straight out onto the
rear terrace. I was so lost in my own thoughts that the delivery guy had to
touch my arm to get my attention; that did not go down well, I almost had a
meltdown.

When they had left, I did what I
vowed to myself I wouldn’t do and I went upstairs. As I reached the master
bedroom, I stared down at the big, empty bed and tried to imagine myself living
there with Tristan, waking up with him, making love to him – My throat
tightened at the very thought of it, and I questioned it again – Is it because
I was raped that I’m feeling like this? Or is it fear of commitment, of being
loved and giving love?

I stood there for ages trying to
work it out, until I realised I wasn’t going to get the answer, not without
George, so tonight I have to be honest with him, whether I like it or not.

When I got home last night, I
ordered a king-size quilt and covers from Amazon, which turned up today at
work, and it’s huge. It normally takes me half an hour to get to George’s from
work, but with this lot to carry, and the heat, I’m definitely going to get a
taxi.

I look up at my screen, click on
the images of Tristan and stare blankly at him –
What is it about you that
has me in knots?
I shake my head at myself and try to get back to the now,
to what’s going on in my life other than Tristan.

Still no word from Rob or Carlos,
and Gladys and Debs haven’t given me any new information, on the upside, I
tried the skirt on again last night. I wanted to leave it a couple of days to
see if it made any difference, and it didn’t – which I was pleased about. I’m
really looking forward to next Tuesday, and I’m excited to see how far we can
take this Hypnotherapy. Maybe it will heal me? I hope so, I want to feel
pretty, feminine, sexy – I don’t want to feel like a freak anymore.

I look up at the clock on the
wall again, only another minute has passed. My stomach fills with butterflies
again and I fight against the grin that involuntarily spreads across my face.
Honestly, one minute I’m smiling like a fool, the next I’m feeling lost, sombre
and empty – I wish Tristan would hurry back. I need to know if this is what
missing someone is like, or if I’m feeling like this because I’m freaking out?

I want Tristan, I want to bed
him, I want to be as close to him as two people can get, but the very thought
of it keeps sending me into a nervous frenzy.

I sigh heavily.
Concentrate
Coral!

Ok, I’m back to my routine of swimming
in the morning, and I had my session last night with Will, I think he finally
believed me about the bruising, because I kept getting flashbacks of Tristan
and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off my face.
When Will asked for the fourth time why I was so happy, I relented and told him
all about meeting Tristan, he seemed genuinely pleased for me…

THE CLOCK ON THE WALL FINALLY
chimes four o’clock. I dash out of my seat and knock on Joyce’s
door. “Come.” I fling the door open.

“Need anything before I go?” I
ask in a rush.

“No but, going somewhere?” Joyce
smiles coyly at me.

“I...um, I have a session
tonight.” I tell her not wanting to get into talking about Tristan.

“Oh,” Joyce’s face falls.

I roll my eyes and smile at her,
I can’t help myself. “Then I’m seeing Tristan,” I whisper.

Joyce beams with pride and jumps
up out of her seat. “Darling girl,” she chokes and hugs me hard. I hug her
back. “It gives me such great pleasure to see you so happy...” Joyce breaks off
choking back the tears. “Reminds me of how giddy I used to feel when I had a
date with John, you know before we married. They are precious times, make the
most of it,” she says rubbing my arm. I feel mortified that I’ve been walking
around feeling so happy whilst Joyce has been in hell.

I frown hard at my own
behaviour.“I’m sorry Joyce, that’s really insensitive of me,” I murmur.

“Nonsense.” She smiles, dabbing
her tears with her handkerchief. “It gives me joy to see you so happy and he’s
a lovely chap Coral, you’ve done really well there,” she says almost proudly.

“I don’t think I really did
anything,” I answer feeling shy.

Joyce rolls her eyes at me.
“Always so modest.” I snort and stare at the floor. “Are you alright darling?”

I make myself smile. “Yes, of
course.”

Joyce frowns at me. “Want to talk
about it?” I shake my head at her. “You’ve been very up and down since Tristan
left,” she muses.
Damn it! I thought I was hiding it.

“Sorry Joyce.” I mumble.

“No need, take a seat.” She
points to the deep green leather sofa. Reluctantly I walk over and sit down
with her. “Now then, let’s get this show on the road.”

I frown at her. “S…sorry?” I
stutter.

“Missing him?” I scowl at my
twisted hands. “Alright, going too fast?” My eyes dart up to meet hers. “I see,
Coral, if that’s how you feel, you need to tell him this,” she says. “Tristan
is older than you and I know he’s ready to settle down, evidently you’re not.
So the two of you need to sit down and talk it through.” I nod back at her.

“I have to say Coral, I am
surprised. You’ve met a handsome, eligible man, who’s fallen deeply in love
with you, yet you’re walking around as though you don’t know what to do with
yourself?”
How does she know this?

“I can tell dear,” she says,
patting my hand. “Coral, you probably don’t know this, but when John and I
first met, we fell madly in love. My parents said it wouldn’t last because we
fell so hard, so quickly, but we did last. I want you to know this so you don’t
feel so afraid of it working out so quickly.”

“I just…” I stop, not knowing
what to say.

“Coral, do you think the two of
you have a chance at working this out?”
Shit!

“I…I’m not sure.” I whisper,
staring at my hands.

“Do you love him?”

“Yes…but…” I break off again, I
can't even begin to tell Joyce how I really feel; we’ll be here all night.

“He’s a steady, hardworking man,
a good man. You could do a lot worse,” she scoffs.

“I know,” I softly say.

“Then why are you so reluctant?”
she adds in a softer tone.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I
just am.”

“Well, I can't really push you in
one direction or the other, I’m sure you know what you’re doing,” she adds.

“Thanks Joyce.” I know she cares,
truly I do, but she hasn’t got a frigging clue.

“Well, go on then, off you go,”
she says ushering me out of her office with her hand.

“Night Joyce.” I want to say have
a nice weekend, but I don’t think she will, not for a long time.

“Goodnight dear,” she smiles
tentatively at me.

As I walk out of her office, I
think back on our conversation. Part of me knows she’s right, that most women
would be jumping for joy at meeting such a great guy, a smart, kind, eligible
bachelor – but I’m not like other women, god knows she should know that! As I
walk over to my desk and start to close my computer down, I think back to her
words.

“He’s a good man, you could do
a lot worse”

“He’s older than you he’s
ready to settle down”

“He’s deeply in love with you”

Oh
Tristan! – Suddenly, the pain of losing him grips me, and I don’t mean us
ending, I mean him dying; like John did. What if I take the risk and that
happens to me? What if Tristan suddenly dies? What the hell am I meant to do?
It’s too unbearable to even think about – I grip my stomach to stop it from
turning over, and that’s when I make the decision. I have to tell him tonight,
I have to. I can't hold it back any longer. It’s time for some truths.

Ordering a taxi, I pick up my
handbag, my overnight bag, the quilt and the bedcovers and struggle down the
hallway…

AS I REACH GEORGE’S HOUSE
,
I take a deep steadying breath and knock on the door.

Phil answers it, as usual. “Hi
Coral,” he beams, he’s got the phone in his hand. “No, he didn’t,” he gasps.
He’s
such a gossip!

“Hey Phil,” I drag my feet into
the hallway and plonk the quilt, bedcovers and my bags on the floor.

“He won't be long, make yourself
comfortable,” Phil says, covering the handset.

“Ok.” I walk through the hallway,
past the open plan kitchen-dining area, turn left and walk into George’s study.
The room is empty, and for a fleeting second I think about opening up his
notepad to see what he’s written about me.

“And how are we this evening?”
George says as he enters the room, making me jump, again!

“I’ll be fine once I’ve got over
the heart attack.” I say with sarcasm, and sit on the sofa. George chuckles at
me, sits in his chair, takes out his notepad and waits patiently for me to
start.

“How do people do it?” I muse.

“Do what?” George asks looking up
over his specs.

“Get over the person they love
that has died. Joyce seems as though she’s coping so well, but I don’t see
how...if I lost Tristan, I don’t think I’d cope at all...” I say shaking my
head.

“Time is a healer,” George tells
me.

“That maybe so George but what
about day to day stuff, just getting up’ –“Coral,” George holds his finger up
to me, I stop talking. “Remember we have talked about this, worrying about
future events that may or may not happen is a complete waste of time. Besides,
for all you know you both could lead a very happy, healthy long life together.
Try to concentrate on that.” I relax a little, my shoulders coming down from my
ears. “Better?” He asks.