Destined to Feel (7 page)

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Authors: Indigo Bloome

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Contemporary, #Fiction

BOOK: Destined to Feel
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‘So what are you going to do about it?’

We are basking in the sun on a warm rock by the warm waters of the Aegean Sea and I’m doing my duty, rubbing sunscreen on Alexa’s back. It’s a tough life!

‘I’m thinking of going back to psychology full-time.’

‘Wow. That’s a big move. Are you ready for it?’

‘Yeah, I am. But it’s more than that. I think I’m ready to settle down.’ I keep up the sensuous strokes along her smooth back.

‘Settle down. What do you mean?’ A small wave of apprehension shudders through me.

Settle down, shit…not my Alexa!

‘You know, start a family, maybe return to Australia. I don’t want to raise a family in central London.’

‘You’re serious?’ I inadvertently splat more sunscreen than necessary on her shoulders and quickly start rubbing it in to distract from my shock at her words.

‘Of course I’m serious, Jeremy. Why wouldn’t I be? My maternal clock’s ticking, and I’m over the club scene and the frantic pace of London.’

‘But you’re not even close to thirty, you have heaps of time.’ God, I need to come up with something, she’s slipping away from me, from beneath my very fingers. I know I’m not ready for a family or to ‘settle down’. I’ve just started to make headway in my career. My research at Harvard is only serving to make me more certain I am on the right path. I’ve never been closer to a significant breakthrough in managing chemical imbalances in the brain. After all these years, I know I’m finally on the right path, on the cusp of finally doing something real and tangible to help prevent families going through the pain and hell we went through with Michael. I can’t stop now and I can’t split my focus between work and a family. My hours of study, my research, it would be a disaster. And there is no way Alexa would tolerate a partner who isn’t around for their kids, there’s just no way.

‘I know,’ she replies calmly, while my mind reels, ‘but it’s only just around the corner and you never know how long these things can take. One of my friends who just turned thirty has been trying for two years without success. I don’t know how I’d survive if that happened to me. I can’t ignore it much longer, Jeremy. Every baby I pass in the street is…well, it’s as if my heart spasms and contracts. The yearning to nurture my own biological child is like nothing I’ve felt.

Each time I see a pregnant belly I smile at the mother and then tears well up in my eyes. And I can’t deny it, the feeling gets stronger each day. It’s as if everything else has faded into insignificance for me.’

I drag my brain back from morbid thoughts on how depression can devastate the happiest of families to concentrate fully on Alexa’s words. My lover…my best friend…clock ticking…

Jeez, does she expect me to be the father? What if she’s already pregnant? Bloody hell. I’m so not ready for this. She sits up from her lying position and looks directly into my eyes, as if sensing my fear, my rising anxiety as to where this discussion is leading.

‘It’s okay, Jeremy.’ She laughs her delightful laugh. ‘You don’t need to look so scared! I know your career is everything to you, it always has been — and it’s not like we have ever had a monogamous relationship. We just have incredibly great sex when we’re together. You’ve made your views on marriage very clear over the years.’

‘Oh, yeah, sure, I suppose I have.’ She looks at me with a gorgeous twinkle in her eye and her dimple appears next to her smile. I breathe a sigh of relief and relax but surely she must know she means more to me than incredibly great sex…doesn’t she? And as for my anti-marriage views…well, we’ve been on opposite sides of the world for the past few years and I haven’t had the chance to explain to her that such views only ever pertained to every other woman in the world until I was ready for her.

‘I’ve met someone.’ Fuck. That’s a bombshell. My thoughts come to an abrupt halt. My heart pounds deeply within my chest at her words. ‘And it’s getting serious, I think.’

My breathing temporarily stops before I realise she is waiting for me to respond.

‘Really, what’s his name?’ I have to pretend I’m coughing as I choke out the words.

‘Robert. He’s English but seems quite keen on moving to Australia with me and he just loves kids. I met him a few months ago at a friend’s christening and….’ I see her lips forming words but I don’t hear her voice thanks to the loud thrumming in my ears and the pumping pain in my chest. This is it. I’m losing my Alexa. Doesn’t she realise she is mine, has been since we first met? Now she wants to settle down, have babies, move back to Australia. All three things are impossible for me at this juncture of my life. I love her, surely she must know that. If she doesn’t, how can I possibly tell her now? She looks so happy and animated talking about ‘Robert’ and their potential new life together. Fuck! How did this conversation end up like this? I shake my head as her voice cuts through my daze.

‘Anyway, I just wanted to let you know, because if Robert and I move in together, like we’re planning, you know, as a couple, well, I won’t be able to have any more weekends away with you, like this. It just…wouldn’t be right, would it?’

She looks up at me, both resignation and longing in her puppy dog eyes. This is it. My playful, experimental Alexa is closing herself off from me because I can’t give her what she wants at this point in time. And she’s right. I can’t — or won’t. I don’t know which it is, but it’s too soon, we’re still too young. And besides, it really sounds like she loves him so how can I, in all fairness, deny her this happiness just because I’m not ready to commit? Shit, I feel sick to the pit of my gut. Too much for me to dwell on right now. I force my voice to sound calm.

‘No, sweetheart, it wouldn’t. I’m pleased you’re happy and thanks for letting me know. But know this, if he hurts you, upsets you, lays a finger on you that you’re not happy with, or doesn’t treat you like the goddess you are, he’ll have me to contend with and you know what I’m like.’

She smiles her gorgeous smile and I can’t help but try to grin back. ‘Very theatrical Jeremy but yeah, I do know what you’re like.’ She gives me a fun, playful, loving thump on my upper arm. ‘Always my protector.’

‘I will always be there for you, Alexandra. It’s very important to me that you know that.’ I seem to be drowning in solemnity which I’m sure must be freaking her out, particularly if she loves him and not me. I must try to get my head around supporting the choice she’s making and I need to lighten things up — urgently. ‘In the meantime, he doesn’t have you this weekend, I do, so if this is our last weekend together before you “settle down”’ — I can’t keep the bitter undertone from catching in my voice — ‘then rest assured, we will be making the most of it.’

I can’t bear to look at her face as I experience the unusual sensation of hot tears pooling in the corners my eyes so I pick her up instead and she squeals as I carry her to the edge of the rock shelf and leisurely throw her into the warm, aquamarine water. I wait till she rises to the surface, then promptly jump in to retrieve what’s mine, at least for now. I desperately need the diversion of the water against my skin, which helps to wash away my turbulent emotions and lighten my heavy heart.

I will
not
let her slip through my fingers again! I slam my fist hard on the wooden bench of the bar, my skin burning with determination.

‘Jeremy, are you okay?’

‘Oh, Sam, hi, I didn’t see you come in.’

His usually jovial face is lined with worry and concern. I quickly wipe any sign of moisture away from the corner of my eye; he shouldn’t have to see me like this. Fuck it, we shouldn’t be in this situation at all.

‘Yeah, I’ve been a million miles away. Any update?’ I raise my hand to the barman to indicate we need service and order more whisky which momentarily takes the edge off my pain but it will be the last one. I can’t afford to be playing anything but my A game when it comes to Alexa.

‘Actually, I do have some news. The signal from Alexandra’s bracelet has been traced to St Pancras station, they believe she boarded a train to Paris. The tracking device on the bracelet is not as effective on high-speed trains but we have been able to correlate the timing of the train departures and the bracelet and we are 90% sure. Unless —’

‘What?’ I say harshly, frustrated by his seemingly longwinded explanation. ‘Unless what, Samuel?’ Shit, I really do need to control my temper.

‘Well, they could have tampered with the bracelet to throw us off the trail. Do you think they could know about it?’ Samuel asked.

‘There was nothing about the security of the bracelet on my system at work, that was kept in another department. What about yours?’

‘Same. So we should be all right for a while, or at least until they try to remove it — and realise they can’t.’

‘Well, we need to get going. If they think she’s in Paris then that’s where I’m heading.’

Finally, something to focus on rather than drowning in sorrow. I start to rise but Sam puts his hand on my arm to stop me.

‘That was a few hours ago, Jeremy. She could be anywhere in continental Europe by now. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of speaking to Martin directly, knowing how upset you —’

The look on my face stops him in his tracks and I take a deep breath to calm my anger.

Control it, Quinn. ‘Sorry , Sam, of course, yes, please continue.’

He visibly relaxes, I must look scary. Sam is not easily unnerved. ‘Anyway, we detected the signal at Gare du Nord for a short time and lost it again. The security guys are assuming she must be on another train travelling southeast from Paris towards the Swiss border but we won’t be 100% sure until she is stationary. We should have an exact location in the morning. Martin is hoping to finalise the team in the next twenty-four hours.’

‘What?’ I am shouting. ‘We can’t wait that long, Sam, they’ve fucking abducted Alex!’

‘These things take a while, Jeremy, and they don’t want to get the authorities involved just yet…’ Sam’s tone is placatory but I don’t want to hear it. Why the hell haven’t Martin and Moira been calling me and instead talking to Sam? I grab my phone out of my jacket pocket and see that I’ve had five missed calls and that it’s been on silent. Shit! How the hell did that happen? I slam it down on the bench top in complete frustration; absolutely nothing is going my way.

I shake his hand off and stand up.

‘You have to be kidding me?’ Blood pounds through my head. Samuel’s calmness inflames my anger and I’m teetering on the edge of civility. I pick up the phone again, my fingers fumbling in my attempt to make the call to sort this mess out. Sam interjects quickly.

‘Apparently, they’re trying to avoid any red tape if we are forced to act quickly, if you know what I mean.’ He looks flustered at these words and adds hastily: ‘Anyway, we’ll take the first flight to Paris in the morning, and hopefully have a more comprehensive picture of where she has been taken.’

I reluctantly consider his words and try to temper my fury. ‘Oh, right, I see where you’re coming from. Yes, if we need to act quickly, we don’t want to be asking permission from anyone, for anything.’ I take the last swig of my whisky in an attempt to take the edge off my nerves and my fear for AB’s wellbeing. If only she were in the safety of my arms right now. A burst of rage fires in my belly that is so strong, I feel like I could kill the bastards who have taken her captive. Not an appropriate emotion for a medical professional but I don’t give a fuck at this point.

‘I need to be on the first flight out, Sam, as soon as we have a location. Let Martin know.’ I need some fresh air quickly, I’m feeling so claustrophobic.

‘Will do.’

I’m becoming a rude arrogant bastard and it’s not fair to take it out on Sam when he’s doing everything to help. I take a deep breath and make a determined effort to control my threatening emotions. I soften my voice and place my hand on his shoulder. ‘Thanks, Sam. I appreciate it.

It’s just killing me, not knowing if she’s okay. I need to get her back.’

‘I know, Jeremy, and we will.’

PART THREE

While the doctor is reflecting, the patient dies.

— Italian proverb

Alexa

After scrubbing my skin to remove the filth, jetlag and tears, I allow the steaming water to cascade over my tired and exhausted muscles, my emotions numb. My heart feels frozen. I don’t know how long I have been under this scorching rain of water and I don’t care. My brain seems incapable of making even the simplest of decisions. It isn’t until I realise I am in a crumpled heap on the floor of the shower and the water temperature is cooling over my limbs that I shudder and consider getting out. To what? I wonder. Where am I? Who has done this to me?

Who could do this to me? There are no tears left to shed. I have more than used my quota.

Even the plush towel I absentmindedly wrap around my shoulders feels raw and harsh against my skin. I glance in the direction of the mirror and am grateful it is steamed over. If I saw my face it might make this nightmare more real, more tangible and I don’t have the nerves to deal with that. I hesitate as I open the bathroom door, not completely sure what I have seen on the other side. I briefly remember glimpsing classical, almost antique-style furniture, a cupboard, bedside tables, a higher than normal double bed and a floral chaise longue as I emerged like an unidentified creature hatching from the case that held me prisoner for so long. I think I was in shock when light finally infiltrated my eyes and I realised I was breathing free of the mask. My binds had been discarded just as efficiently as they had been applied. No one was in the empty room when I cautiously peered about, stretching each of my agonised limbs slowly and carefully to allow the blood to flow back into my extremities after being confined for so long. The light of the bathroom had attracted my immediate attention as I crawled over to haul myself up onto the toilet. The shower quickly became my next point of call as I hastily removed the clothes I had been in for however many days or hours since I departed Melbourne. It seems like a lifetime ago.

The curtains are open, nothing is shrouded in darkness and I marvel at being able to see out into the world. My eyes take a few minutes to adjust to the view before me. The countryside is beautiful: rolling hills and pastures with the sun sinking rapidly behind them, the sky being teased with the colours of dusk. Majestic mountains provide a picture-perfect backdrop — only if you were on holidays, I reprimand myself, which I most certainly am not! I place both hands on the window ledge to steady my balance as I continue to gaze, taking long deep breaths to fill my lungs and attempt to calm my returning panic. I notice how high above everything I am situated, the view all-encompassing.
Too high to escape
…the thought flitters through my head, although I do try the window but it cannot be opened.

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