The Problem With Heartache (31 page)

W
HEN SOMEONE
you had feelings for rejected you, it made you do stupid things. It made you ignore the big, important things in your life, such as
what am I going to do in one week when tour ends
and easier to focus on the trivial, day-to-day stuff, such as
why the hell wouldn’t he keep kissing me when it was clear his mouth was the tequila to my salt and lemon?

Then it made you feel guilty. It made you feel as if you’d betrayed the guy you loved, because pushing down my feelings, pretending Lachlan didn’t exist anymore wasn’t a solution, and I’d cheated his memory by attempting to find something more with another guy.

It made you drink a bottle of wine, and then down a tub of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Because, der.

“Stace … I’m a bad person.” I sighed. I didn’t even have the energy to cry anymore. All I had was a whole heap of sadness weighing on me, pressing down on my soul.

“You’re not, sweetie, you’re not.” She smiled through my screen, and I hugged the couch cushion closer to my chest. “I know the grief can be tough sometimes like that, but I know you’ll be okay. It’s like they say at work.”

“The pet psychic place?”

“Hush, good advice is good advice. The point is, they always say that when someone is gone, their memory lives on in the spirit of others. You’re just … ah, forget it. This isn’t helping, is it?” Stacey asked, and I couldn’t help but give a small smile. It wasn’t, really, at all.

“I just … the feeling of loss. It’s overwhelming. Some days, I’m totally fine, and I just go about life as per usual. It’s those times when I can be attracted to Lee, when I can just … just be normal,” I said, trying to put my feelings into words. “And then other times, other days, bam! It’s like the world is a really horrid place and I become crippled with guilt and just this hurt, this hurt that rips at my insides and eats me alive. It’s like today, when Lee …
rejected
me.” I shuddered. “Sadness breeds sadness. And now all I can think about is pain.”

Stacey worried her lip as something flashed across her face, a fleeting strange expression.

“I sound like a crazy person, huh?” I gave a single laugh.

“No, it’s not that …” Stacey trailed off, and glanced around her room, as if she were checking no one was in it. “Kate … I get it. I know exactly what you mean; those feelings … God, the way you said it just sums it up so perfectly.”

“Stace?” I frowned. As far as I knew, Stacey hadn’t experienced any death in her family, or from any of her friends.

“I … I didn’t tell you this …” A tear dropped from Stacey’s eye and crashed on her cheek.

“Babe, are you okay?”

She shook her head and continued. “When you were going through everything with your dad … I was pregnant.”

My jaw dropped. I saw it on the little Skype window. “Pregnant? To who?”

“Some guy … my sister’s boss, apparently.” She waved the comment off. “I … I thought the baby was everything. It was going to fix me. Save me from a life of nothing.”

“But you drank at schoolies!” I protested.

“Took the shots, spat them in the water bottle.”

“Ha!” I laughed. Wow. That was seriously good planning. “What about at dinner that night, with Dave and …”

“Didn’t actually drink or feel like I had to fake it. Our night was cut short, remember?” she asked. And how could I forget? That night had been a total disaster.

“I was careful, Kate. I did all the right things. That’s why I took the job with the psychics; I wanted to earn some cash, so I could make sure my baby had a place in the world. That I could treat it right.” She sucked in a deep breath and looked down. When she looked back up at me, tears had already fallen down both cheeks, and her bottom lip wavered. It was all I could do to stop myself lunging for the computer and holding it close to my chest. I wished I could comfort her in person. “I lost the baby, Kate. And it was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Oh, hon.” I reached out and touched the computer screen, as if that could somehow translate to a physical touch.

“Sto-op touching the scre-een,” Stacey sobbed through a small laugh. “Your hand looks we-eird.”

I giggled, and we both smiled at each other, Stacey still wiping away her tears. When we’d finally calmed down, I spoke again. “Why didn’t you tell me? I get why at the start, but what about when you lost it? Didn’t you need someone to talk to?”

“It was the day after Lachlan …”

Stab.

There goes that pain again.

“My point is I get it, Kate. It’s so silly, my baby was never born, but I had our lives all planned out. I even knew what kind of pram I’d be getting. And now, some days, I’m fine. Everything is sunshine and lollipops, all freaking good, and then others?” Stacey shuddered. “Other times, each breath I take is laced with shards of painful memories. Of missing thoughts. And even though you want to stop, you have to keep breathing.”

Even when breathing was hard. Even when air clogged your throat, made each inhale a struggle.

“But it doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t do a bad thing, sweetie,” Stacey said. “Kissing Lee is good for you; it’ll help. Maybe not right now, but soon.”

“Thanks,” I whispered. Maybe one day …

Stacey and I said our goodbyes, and just as we were about to disconnect the call, she left me with some words of Stacey wisdom.

“Just because you move on doesn’t mean you have to forget.”

Four years, five months ago …

W
E FINALLY
got into the hotel room and I broke open the Veuve, foam spilling over the carpet. Carly giggled and pretended to lick the spill up, which only made me want her even more.

“How was your day?” she asked, propping herself up on her knees on the floor of my room.

“Good.” I nodded. “Real good. I’m … a bit drunk.” I moved till I was kneeling directly in front of her. She was so alluring, so irresistible.

Tonight was the night.

I was going to make my move.

“Yours?” I asked casually, as if I hadn’t just pictured her naked, imagined how good it would finally feel to be inside of her.

“Well …” Carly looked from side to side, as if the bed might be listening. “Don’t tell anyone, but me too! Me and-a-friend drunk a bottle of wine
each
at lunch, and now …” She swayed and looked at the carpet. “Now I’m licking expensive champagne off the floor.”

Carly cracked up laughing and I joined her, till we were both holding our sides in mirth. I handed her the bottle from the table above us and she took a swig, then passed it to me. I took a swig and handed it back, and soon the bottle was near empty.

I shook my head. Carly was still sitting opposite me on the floor, hands on her knees. The sun streamed through the window, glinting off her golden hair, her green eyes shining, and I wondered if maybe drinking during the day was not the best idea.

“You’re a rock star,” Carly said.
I guess I said that aloud.
“You can do what you want.”

I smiled and passed the bottle to her again, a tiny amount of liquid still pooled in the bottom. “Last drink is yours, Carly.”

She took it and tipped the bottle up, swallowing the liquid down, her throat bobbing with the movement. When she put the bottle down, rivers of sparkling dripped from either side of her lips.

And that was when I couldn’t take it any more.

I gently edged my way forward, licking the champagne from her chin up to her lips. Her skin was soft, and she smelt like this delicious combination of daisies and wine, and God, I wanted to drink her up.

When my tongue met the corner of her lips she stilled, and I stilled, and for one interminable moment I sat on the edge of not knowing. Of not knowing if Carly, the girl of my dreams, felt about me just the same way that I felt about her.

All in.

I ran my tongue along her lower lip, tracing her plump, delicious mouth. She shuddered under my touch. I placed my hand along her jawline, cupping her face, looking her in the eye, but she didn’t meet my gaze.

“Lee …” She trailed off.

My heart burned. I knew just how hard this was. She was right. There were no words. No words except—“I love you.”

I pressed my lips to hers and kissed them, those sweet, delectable lips, and after a moment she met my kiss, parted her mouth and allowed my tongue entry. She tasted like candy and champagne, and as I ran my hand up her back, pulling her close against me, as close as two people could possibly be, I knew one thing.