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“I’d really like it if you would help me move in…” Samantha carries on talking, though I no longer listen. They say things happen in threes. So far I’ve lost my childhood home, I’ve lost my girl, what next?
“Lucian.” She pauses. “There is something important I need to tell you, something that will change everything.”
I drum my fingers on my thigh. “I’m waiting,”
“This is something I need to tell you in person. Alone.”
“You had plenty of time to talk to me yesterday when I was showing you around Freesdon Hall.”
“I tried, but you kept talking over me and walking at a pace I had to run to keep up with.”
I can’t deal with this, not tonight. “Good night, Samantha.” I cut the call and, switching on my playlist, close my eyes.
I wake the following morning when Tim opens the stable door to let Jupiter out into the paddock.
“Rough night?” Tim asks and holds out his hand to help me up.
I take his hand. Once standing, I dust myself down. “Something like that.” I make my way out of the stables and en route pull wayward strands of hay from my hair.
“Your phone, sir,” Tim calls after me, to which I turn and he passes me the device. It’s cold as it rests in the palm of my hand. The screen is blank, indicating my battery has died.
“Thanks, Tim.” I push the phone into my trouser pocket and head outside. It’s a dull day, and thick dark clouds hang in the sky. My shoes slip on the grass—still damp from last night’s storm—as I make my way to the house. Although I’ve not long woken up, I feel in need of a proper sleep. My head throbs, my eyes are heavy, but more specifically I’m hungover.
I make my way through a side door, passing staff members as I enter the hallway. With my head hanging, I make my way to my bedroom and once inside I stand and look at the bed. A bed in which hours ago lay the woman I love. A woman who doesn’t love me. I won’t sleep in this room again until the bed and the mattress have been replaced.
I make my way to the walk-in wardrobe for a change of clothes. My eyes are hit with rail after rail of the dresses I bought for Chelsea. I pace forward and back, the hangers creaking against the rail as I run my fingers along the garments. Her scent explodes in the small space around me, causing anger to pool in the pit of my stomach.
Stupid, stupid Lucian, thinking I could buy my way into her affection. Stupid me for thinking that my love for her could be enough. My fingers fist a Dolce and Gabbana dress and I yank the soft material. Hangers and gowns fall to the floor as I pull each one from the railing and make a not-so-neat pile in my wake. I don’t stop until the rails are free of every dress, every dress except for one. The white gown my mother designed, the same gown Chelsea wore to the Pink Ribbon Breast Cancer Charity Gala.
My mind takes an unexpected turn, and I wonder what my mother would think if she were here now. I look to the drawer that I always keep locked, because what’s inside is too painful. And yet, in the face of true anguish and sorrow, I find myself growing closer. I locate the key hidden in the drawer below, push it into the small brass lock and turn.
The drawer is full of unopened cards and presents I received over the years on my birthday. My brothers stopped giving me gifts when I turned twenty-one, though Josh, the stubborn sod he is, refused to give up. The gift he bought me for my thirtieth lies amongst the pile.
I scan the many different shades of blue wrapping paper, some matt, others gloss, some with ribbons and some without. But the gift I am looking for is very specific.
I make a small pile to one side of the drawer as I move gifts aside until I find what I am looking for.
The gift wrapped in gold.
The last gift from my mother that she planned to give me on my fifteenth birthday. I lift the small box, so light in my hand, and yet it weighs heavily on my heart.
This gift represents years of keeping memories of my mother tucked away, years of me trying to forget because the pain of losing her was too hard to deal with. The box represents a grief I never faced head-on. Finally after fifteen years I feel ready, after fifteen years I need closure. For me to face the future, I need to first face the past. I have no idea what is inside and never wanted to know, until now. I take a long breath and slowly lift the corner flap.
Chelsea
Yesterday evening
Istand peering out of the lounge window and watch Lucian walk away from me and out of my life. My heart hammers loudly in my chest with each step he takes toward the car. He could look back at any second. I should move away from the window, but I can’t. Part of me wants to run after him and take it all back, but I can’t. I’m doing this for him, so that Josh doesn’t destroy his reputation. Not only that, but Lucian wants children, and that is something I am unsure if I’ll ever be able to give him. But instead of picturing a little girl sitting at the top of the stairs whilst her father leaves, I see something else. I see a girl with striking blonde hair watch as her mother kisses her father as he leaves for work. I see a boy with emerald-green eyes running down the stairs as his father returns home from a long day in the office.
What if he leaves,the question that has forever plagued my mind, is replaced byWhat if he stays?
Image after image plays in a loop in my mind, a motion picture of the life and children we could have had. Tears wash away my imaginings and pull me back to reality because a dream is all it can be, all it’ll ever be.
My legs shake and my body trembles with emotion that I can’t quash. When I think I couldn’t feel any worse than I do, Lucian turns around and looks straight at me and it feels as though my whole world implodes in on itself.
This is too much. I can’t end things like this. I hurry away from the window and head for the front door. I turn the key in the lock and run barefoot down the narrow flight of stairs. My feet are met with the icy chill from puddles and water splashes up my calves as I run out onto the street. Fat raindrops fall down around me and become one with my sorrow. Through a haze of tears burning in my eyes I watch as the Mercedes drives away, taking Lucian with it.
With shaky hands I pull my phone from my pocket and frantically search for his number. I’m seconds from calling him when the sound of someone clapping has me spinning around.
