FATED (29 page)

They had said other words to each other. None of which had trickled through to my brain. I was on shut down. I knew it and I’m sure Alex did, too.

I turned fast to see Alex behind me. What I really wanted to do was to fly into his arms and plead with him to tell me this wasn’t true. I didn’t need to; his huge body was racked with guilt, I could see by the way he held himself. One hand was running through his beautiful hair, his eyes were glazed over. It reminded me of his office at the rugby club all over again. Except I knew this wouldn’t have the same outcome. His shoulders were hunched over and he was fidgeting his feet slightly.

‘Congratulations, Mr. Blackmore, I hear you got engaged last weekend.’ My eyes met his as I sucked my bottom lip in to stop myself from crying out to him, to plead with him. To ask him to tell me it wasn’t true. His beautiful emerald pools came to meet my eyes. I fisted my hands to my sides, just wanting to touch the man in front of me. He was no longer mine to touch, I would never touch him again and he would never touch me.

‘Thank you... it would seem that way,’ his normally strong commanding voice was quiet. I couldn’t listen to anything else that came out of his lying mouth.

I moved past him hurriedly and made my way to my apartment. I said no more to anyone, I simply couldn’t trust myself.

Sod the pleasantries. I owed no one my manners now.

The weighty door slammed shut behind me and I locked it, probably for the first time in weeks.

I ran to Bella’s room. I couldn’t chance going to mine. His dirty clothes were still on my floor. His T-shirt was tucked into my bedside drawer. I knew I wouldn’t cope with seeing any of it.

A recognisable sense of completely overwhelming grief brewed up inside me. I threw myself down on the same quilt that Bella had fallen apart on only a few days ago and screamed. I screamed until my voice was hoarse. My phone rang and rang until it finally stopped. I could only assume it had run out of battery. I had no concept of time, or anything other than the deep rooted pain inside me, and the audible sound of my heart breaking into a million pieces.

Forty

New York at night was a hard place to tell the time. It really was the city that never slept,
as once it got dark outside it was still busy. I woke up in a wet patch of my own tears; my cheek was stuck to the cotton. At first I couldn’t comprehend where I was or what day it was. My throat was killing me and I felt dehydrated. My head was pounding with an oncoming migraine. But it was the empty cavernous feeling inside me that immediately brought to the forefront of my mind the memory and pain of what had happened earlier, or was it yesterday?

I made myself get up off the bed. It was like I imagined cold turkey would feel, my whole body shook and ached with the sheer want to leave this place and to go and find him. Such was my addiction.

My mother’s words rang around my head.

Was it all just pretend?

Was it all a perfect plan on his part to make sure we never brought civil charges against him? Is that what had happened between us? I couldn’t believe it had all been a ruse. Maybe that’s how it had started and then it had become something more for him?

I had made it slowly into our living area. Deliberately I forced my eyes not to look at the latest bouquet of flowers he had sent me. I moved carefully to the kitchen and found the light switch. To get the pain killers in the kitchen I needed to see, but this had meant turning on the bright white light out there. The noticeable increase in pain from my head caused me to cry out. I fell to the hard wood floor and gripped my knees to my chest tightly.

The phone in the lounge area started to ring. I knew who it was and didn’t even consider getting up from the comforting position I had made myself fall to, the hard floor was a distraction, and it was an almost welcome pain. It took away very slightly from the pieces of my heart pouring painfully out through every pore and orifice of my body. Slowly I began to rock. I was bracing myself.

‘Frankie... Frankie, I know you’re in there. Please, baby, we need to talk...This isn’t what it seems. I’ve been calling your phone, you’ve not answered. Please, baby... I need to know you’re OK... Pick up, Frankie, I just need to talk to you... This wasn’t meant...........’ BEEP

I had put my hands up and over my ears; I couldn’t listen to his voice anymore. Jumping up I charged into the lounge and ripped the bloody phone out of the wall and threw it with all my might against the wooden front door. It smashed instantly and fell into several pieces on the floor. Moving quickly, I ran as fast as my body would carry me, just managing to place my head over the toilet bowl before I threw up.

I spent the rest of the night there, either being sick or drinking water from the sink. The only good thing about having a migraine was the fact it took all my attention. I had no spare capacity to think about him.

The days went by slowly. I didn’t leave the apartment. I went nowhere. I saw no one. Finally, on Wednesday, I decided I couldn’t bear the smell of myself anymore. I needed to get up and move on. I showered and dried my hair, and for the first time in days I looked at myself in the mirror. My reflection showed pale, ill looking skin and sunken eyes.

So this is what heartbreak looked like?

I formulated a plan in my head and started to put it into action. I needed to go home. I recharged my iPhone now as I had to book a flight. While it charged I kept it on silent and forced myself into my bedroom for the first time since we had both left it on Saturday.

I carried all my things out of the room and packed my clothes up in the lounge; I couldn’t cope with the strength of his cologne in my bedroom. I was taking with me only what I had arrived with and the letters and cards he had sent me. I knew at some point in time I was going to need to look at them again, even if it was only to get some closure on the whole situation.

I don’t know who I thought I was kidding, but it certainly wasn’t me.

In a couple of hours I was ready. I had booked a flight back to Heathrow in London. I only had a couple of things left to do.

A sigh left my lips as I sat on the settee and grasped the iPhone in my hands. He had sent me forty-two messages. I opened none of them. My phone log showed a lot of missed calls. I closed my eyes and ran my finger over the wallpaper picture of us, which I had taken the other day, as it came into view.

Surely a man that was pretending, a man that was engaged to someone else, couldn’t look at another woman that way?

I was almost unrecognisable in the picture on the phone, compared to the pale insignificant thing I was now.

I copied Nathan’s mobile number into my old phone from home. I contacted George downstairs asking him to call a cab for me and my last job was to send Alex a text.

You ruin me- The Veronicas

I placed the iPhone face down on the table and took a deep breath. Slowly I moved my suitcases towards the front door. I knew he was outside, I could sense it. George was probably like everyone else in this building, on instruction from the control freak to let him know any information possible. This was the last thing I had to do; I just had to get past him and to the lift. I placed my eye to the security hole, he was there. His hand with his ring on was covering the hole to block my view. My heart was beating so fast, I needed to stop myself going into panic mode. This needed to be dealt with quickly before I lost my strength and determination.

After releasing the lock on the door I stood back, grasping the handles of my cases. The door flung open as I knew it would. I couldn’t have prepared myself for the way I felt at that very moment. It was as though my whole body needed to see him, almost as if he was a fix, a fix that I had to have a part of. He looked like a complete wreck. My intake of breath, at the sight of him leaning heavily onto my door frame, made his eyes shoot up to mine.

‘Please... I just need to talk to you, Frankie... please don’t leave until you’ve listened to me.’

I said nothing as I moved towards him and the lift. I had nothing to say. He moved and I stepped past him making sure I touched no part of him. I couldn’t touch him, it would kill me.

What should I say? Have a nice life... let me know when you become a dad?

It was best I just kept my mouth closed. The lift had begun to ascend up to us.

‘I can’t believe you can just walk away from us... you’re really going to leave me aren’t you?’

Finally the lift pinged and the door opened. I moved quickly into the box like space and I turned to see a broken Alex standing in the hallway, tears streaming down his face. The doors closed and a loud sob left my mouth.

I heard him shout out ‘DO NOT EXPECT ME TO LET YOU GO.’ A loud bang vibrated on the lift shaft, presumably after meeting his fist.

The lift descended as fast as normal. I always knew I had hated the bloody thing and I realised I finally knew why. It wasn’t my stomach it left behind, it was my heart.

Forty-One

ALEX

My fist was still fucking vibrating and although my nails were kept short, I was applyi
ng that much pressure clenching my fist, I could feel them cutting into my palm. The elevator whined its descent, taking with it the only woman I had ever loved. I couldn’t help the anger that was firing around my body like fucking gun shots and I brought back my boot several times, kicking the closed doors in front of me. It served no purpose apart from creating a dent in the doors, but for a split second it had made me feel some sense of release.

Her face had been so pale and drawn; she had obviously lost weight. I could see how she had to concentrate in order to get around me to reach the elevator. Never once did her eyes meet mine, although I was so fucking willing her to, I knew if she had looked at me properly I would have stood a chance, a small one but still a chance. If only she had allowed our eyes to meet.  Stopping her now would have proved to be no fucking good in the long run, but letting her go had taken every part of what little self-restraint I had.

Incredible how everything can come crashing down around your ears like a fucking house of cards, in the space of a few short hours. I was a stupid fucker to ever think I could keep all of my lives in separate places, away from each other.

So fucking stupid, and so tired of all the shit in my life
.

I rubbed my face with both palms to wipe away my tears and went striding into the now empty apartment.  I had kicked away the broken telephone, in order to walk further in. The orange blossom she used hung in the air, I inhaled it deep down to my soul, knowing it would be a while at the least before I smelt it properly again, if ever.

I walked around in a haze, room to room, not looking for anything in particular but looking for any sign of her I could take to memory. Fucking goddamn woman she had me taking pictures now. My eyes went upwards. She had left the canvas on the wall. The one she had bought when she had first got here. I knew it was a cheap canvas, but it had meant a lot to her. She loved the significance of the heart being on the beach. JJ had told me that she always drove down to the sea when she was upset or hurt. He called it her flight place.

On her bedroom floor I saw my dirty clothes. It felt like a million years ago we had undressed each other in here. I closed my eyelids to try to stop the memories overwhelming me.

My eyes fell upon the bed we had last shared together. You know you have it really fucking bad when you inhale the smell from someone else’s pillow, who the hell was I kidding, I knew I had it really bad, so I might as well just get on with it. Picking it up, I lifted the pillow to my face. It smelt so fucking good, but it did nothing to stop the burning anger inside; the anger was burning so fiercely I could almost smell it singeing my skin.

‘FUCK!’

‘FUCKING LOAD OF BULLSHIT!’ 

The bedding was coming apart in my hands and it felt so good. The rip of the expensive fabric eased my pain if only for a short time. Thrusting one hand into my pocket I pulled out a small square box, I lovingly rubbed over it with my thumb and then threw it as hard as I could against the window; it made a small, trivial noise and fell to the floor.

Weak little cunt, just like your father.
As always I shook the bastard free from my head.

I hung my head low onto my chest, just trying to control my breathing and sense of utter fucking misery. I wasn’t proud looking at the mess I had created, in more ways than one. I clenched my fists to my side and stared out to the city.

‘I think you had better tell me what is going on Alex, don’t you?’

Slowly I turned my head and lifted my eyes to the side. Standing in the doorway was my stepsister, Ruby. Her arms were folded and her foot was tapping on the floor. It would have been a comical sight with her arms crossed in front of her, in between her tits and her baby bump, if I had felt like laughing.