CORAL - Forever (A Romance Trilogy, Book 3) (50 page)

“Yes...” he slurs. “Didn’t eat much dinner...” He tries to
look angry, but he just looks like he’s pulling silly faces.

“Me neither,” I whisper.

“Joyce said...you are challenging...” His eyes close, I
think he’s about to pass out.

“Tristan!” I shout, shaking him. “Open your eyes.” I have to
get him to the sofa. He can't sleep on the kitchen floor – Although, the state
he’s in, he probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. “Tristan!” I
shout again.

His one eye pops open. “Are we home?”
Ok, that’s funny!

“Yes.” I can't help chuckling to myself.

“There are two of you...” He grins, and lunges forward
grabbing hold of me, but he’s so drunk that he sinks down on top of me, his
body weight crushing me –
Holy fuck!

Edith appears in her pyjamas, gasping when she she’s what’s
happened to her spotlessly clean kitchen, and seeing Tristan on top of me.

“A little help!” I gasp to Stuart and Edith. They pull
Tristan off me, then all three of us, lift him to his feet, he’s still awake
and grinning like an idiot. I go to throw his arm over my shoulder, but Stuart
stops me.

“There’s an easier way,” he says, smirking at me.

Making it look effortless, he takes hold of Tristan, bends
down and lifts him up, so his torso is across his shoulders, his legs to the
right, his arms to the left. Stuart steadies him and carefully carries him over
to the sofa. As Stuart places him down, Edith flicks on the small reading lamp next
to the sofa, while I sink down in front of Tristan.

“Will that be all?” Stuart asks.

I sigh inwardly. “Yes, thank you Stuart.”

“He’s gonna have one helluva hang over tomorrow,” he says
shaking his head as he walks away.
Yes, he certainly will!

“Can I get you anything?” Edith asks, she still looks fast
asleep.

“No, thanks Edith,” I whisper. “I’ll get Tristan settled
then clean up the kitchen. You get yourself back to bed.”

“Are you sure?” She asks, yawning widely.

“Positive,” I whisper, smiling up at her.

“Alright then, goodnight Coral,” she says, smiling warmly at
me.

“Night Edith,” I watch her walk away and turn back to
Tristan, he’s still grinning like a fool. Then his head falls back and his eyes
close. “Tristan, wake up!” I shout. “I need to undress you.”

His t-shirt and jeans are covered in pizza sauce. I pull him
forward so I can grab his t-shirt. I manage to yank it up over his back, and
pull it over his head, before he flops back against the sofa –
Hmm even in
his drunken state one look at his sexy body has me wanting him.
I shake my
head at myself, throw his t-shirt to the floor, take his belt in my hand and
unbuckle it. I glance up at him; he has his sexy grin going on.

“Want some?” He slurs, trying to flex his hips towards me.

“I always want you like that Tristan, but not tonight!” I
tell him.

He pouts at me. A brief smile flits across my lips. “Come
on, lift up.” I tell him. He tries three times to push his hips up, eventually,
he makes it and I manage to pull his jeans down to his feet. I pull his
trainers and socks off, then slide his jeans off, leaving his clothes on the
floor.

“I think I’m a little drunk,” he says, the cutest grin
spreading across his face.
Ok, that’s just too cute!

“Yes.” I smile. “I think you are.”

“I love you Coral Stevens...my beautiful wife,” he slurs,
gazing lovingly at me.

“Not yet,” I say.

“In here...” He says, trying to hold his hand against his
heart. “You are...” My heart swells with love for this drunken man before me.

“Hungry?” I ask, trying not to get overwhelmed. Honestly,
one minute I’m mad as hell, the next I’m almost blubbering –
What are you
doing to me Tristan?

“Hmm...” He lunges forward again.

“Hey!” I push him back. “Not that kind of hungry!”

“I want...you,” he says, his stomach rumbling.
He needs
food!

“Later, let’s eat first, ok?” I say, trying to placate him.
“Don't you dare move!” I warn.

He grins a sweet - I’m drunk but so in love with you -
smile. I dash over to the kitchen.

There’s several slices of pizza on the floor, next to the
broken plate – What was he trying to do? Shaking my head. I pick up the pizza
box from the floor, open the lid and find that half of the pizza is still
intact. I grab some kitchen towels and dash back over to him. I grab the throw
off the sofa, lay it across his legs and place the pizza box on top, opening
the lid, I take a slice out and hand it to him. “Here Tristan, eat this.”

“Thanks...” He grins at me then demolishes the slice. I walk
back over to the kitchen, fill a glass with water and find some Nurofen – he’s
definitely going to need it – and head back over to him. Tristan picks up
another pizza slice, although how he’s managing it I don't know. I watch it
sway in the air as he tries to guide it towards his mouth, I almost reach out
to help, but he finally manages it. He demolishes the second slice then smiles
apologetically at me.

“You...” he whispers. “Always you...forever...” He breathes,
his eyes barely open now.

“Tristan?” I tap his cheek, he sleepily opens one eye. “Take
these,” I say, he smiles goofily at me and tries to sit up, but it doesn’t
happen.
Wow, he really is drunk!

I climb onto the sofa, and kneel next to him. “Tristan! Open
your mouth.” He pops his mouth open then smiles drunkenly at me –
This is
funny! –
But not working!

“Tristan, push out your tongue,” I say, trying not to laugh.
He pops his tongue out so I pop the tablets on. “Here, take a sip.” I put the
glass to his lips, he takes a good couple of gulps, his head swaying, his eyes
barely open. “Ok?” I ask, taking the glass off him.

“The room is spinning!” He says, trying to focus on me.

“I know baby it’s ok. I'm here, sleep now,” I soothe,
stroking his hair. And just like that, his head hits the back of the sofa and
he’s out cold.
Oh boy!

I get to my feet and silently tip-toe up the stairs.
Grabbing the quilt from the spare bedroom, I carefully head back down the
stairs, so I don't fall over – that would not help! Reaching Tristan, I throw
the quilt on the floor and step over to him. I lift up his legs, swinging him
round as I do, and prop them up on the sofa. His upper body has moved in the
process, but it doesn’t look very comfortable, so I take his inner arm and
pull, so that he’s lying in the recovery position. Placing a pillow under his
head, I lean down, stroke his hair, softly kiss his temple, and place the quilt
on top of him.

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” I whisper to him. Then
shaking my head at him, I head into the kitchen to clean up the mess...

IT’S
EARLY, 8AM TO BE PRECISE.
Rob is going to be here in two hours with Carlos
and his team of people. The house is being decorated today for the wedding –
what Rob has in mind I do not know – Tristan and I have strict instructions not
to be here when it all starts this afternoon. Apparently, I am only allowed
back in the house later tonight as long as I’m downstairs on the ground floor,
or up in our bedroom. The same applies to tomorrow morning. I have to stay
upstairs all morning until it is time. If I want anything, I have to use my
mobile and call down to Edith.
Ridiculous!

Tristan is not staying with me tonight. Rob’s one condition
for doing this, he said ‘
break all other traditions, but the groom does not
spend the night before with you, or see you until you walk down the aisle’
.
I rolled my eyes at him, but agreed.

Apparently, Tristan’s staying at Joyce’s, and Rob and Carlos
are staying here with me, or at their place, whichever I decide. As per Rob’s
instructions, this morning will be my pre-wedding try out. Once I’ve tried the
dress and shoes on, and Carlos has styled my hair, and done my make-up, Tristan
and I are practically being frogmarched out of our own home! Rob has given his
spare keys to me though, so at least Tristan and I have somewhere to hang out
today –
That’s if he wants to see me?

I sigh inwardly and take a sip of coffee.
Will he still
be mad with me?
I’m mad with him, he has a lot of explaining to do. I just
don't get why he blew up like that? Maybe he has wedding nerves? It’s supposed
to affect men more than women, or maybe not! I just don't know. I stare at his
beautiful face and take another sip of coffee. He’s going to have a very sore
head today. I wonder if Stuart can get him up to our room without waking him? I
really don't want anyone to see him like this, and I know Rob will ask
questions, which in all honesty, I won't have the answers to.

Is the wedding still on?
I have no idea.

Did Tristan stay out all night deciding our fate?
Again I have no idea.

Does he really feel as though I don't trust him?
Because I do, with my life.

Is he really doubting us?
I take another sip of
coffee. I know he said a lot of lovey-dovey stuff last night – and I’m pleased
as punch that he’s a happy drunk – but that doesn’t mean he’s changed his mind,
people say all kinds of crap when they’re drunk. I guess I’m not going to get
any answers until he’s awake, and if we both decide to end it, there’s no point
in any wedding preparations because there won't be any wedding to go to!

I feel really pissed with myself again. I should have just
told him I was going to see Susannah. If I had, we wouldn’t be in this
situation. I shudder slightly remembering what she did. Then I sigh inwardly.
If Rob thinks I’m having seconds thoughts, he’ll call the whole thing off – I
know he will!
Damn it!

I walk over to Stuart. He’s sat at the breakfast bar, quietly
reading a newspaper and sipping his coffee. He turns and smiles at me. “Stuart,
would you be able to carry Tristan up to our bedroom?” I ask. “I don't want
anyone seeing him like this,” I add my eyes downcast, my fingers twisting
against one another – I am so anxious!

“It’s no problem,” Stuart says. He gets to his feet, then
taking me by surprise he squeezes my left arm. “You alright?” I glance up at
him, nod once then look down at the floor, trying to hide how I’m really
feeling. “Ok, let’s get him upstairs.”

I head up the stairs, Stuart following with Tristan. When I
reach our bedroom, I yank the door open as wide as it will go so Stuart can get
through. Walking over to the bed, he places Tristan down, nods once to me then
leaves. With a heavy heart, I place his glass of water on the side, along with
some Nurofen, and my cup of coffee. Then I pull the curtains across, leaving
just a small gap so it’s not pitch black, then I get Tristan into a comfortable
position, and scribble a simple note for him.

I’m sorry X

I leave it next to the water, and
stare down at his face while he sleeps, drinking him in. This maybe the last
time I ever get to do this. I want to kiss him, kiss his warm cheek, but that
just feels like I’m prolonging the agony of what may come – No, better to cut
myself off now, than make it any worse. I take one last look at him, pick up my
cup, then turn away.

I decide I can't let anyone know what’s going on, I am going
to have to be brave, suck it up and be like I used to be, act as though nothing
bothers me, but the fear of us ending grips me again, and I choke back the
tears. Someone taps on the bedroom door, making me jump –
Shit!

I dash the tears away and quietly open the door, so as not
to wake Tristan.

“Coral,” Edith whispers. “Your mobile’s been ringing,” she
adds, her tone soft as she takes in my pitiful expression.

“Thanks.” I take it off her.

“Can I get you some breakfast lass?” I shake my head at her.
“Ok.” She reaches up, squeezes my arm then heads down the stairs. I un-lock my
mobile and see I have two missed calls from Joyce, one from Malcolm and a text
from Debs.

I open the text first –
Are
you ok?

Why would Deb’s text me that? I send her one back –
Yes I’m fine
– It’s
all I can muster.

Then I take one more look at Tristan, feeling torn in two.
Part of me is still pissed at him, but the other part is terrified that he may
wake up and say that everything he said last night was true, that he does feel
that way. I know there’s nothing I can do about that, if that’s his decision, but
the thought of not having him in my life is making me feel that empty, hollow
ache I used to have – And I don't ever want to feel like that again!

I take deep steadying breath and head out the bedroom,
softly closing the door behind me.

Back downstairs, I head over to the kitchen and pour myself
another coffee. I didn’t sleep a wink last night, I literally watched the
sunrise as I sat next to Tristan, wondering the whole time what today will
bring – I choke back tears again.

Oh God, please don't leave me Tristan!

Trying to get myself together I pick up my coffee, head down
the stairs and walk out into the garden. It is yet, another beautiful, blue
skied, sunshiny day. It is not reflecting my melancholy, slightly pissed mood
at all. Sitting, cross legged, in the middle of the lawn, I put on my
sunglasses and return Joyce’s call first.

“Hello sweetheart.”

“Hey Joyce.” I go for upbeat, but sound morose.

“I thought I would give you the heads up,” Joyce says,
sounding worried. My heart instantly plummets to the bottom of my stomach, my
cup of coffee starts shaking so badly in my hand that I have to put it down.
“Coral?”

“Heads up?” I croak.

“Gladys is on the warpath!” Joyce says.
Huh?
I
instantly feel brighter as this isn’t about Tristan.