Damaged Hearts Read online

  When I was dressed, I turned to her and ran a hand through my hair. “Right. Well, um…”

  She got to feet and then we both walked awkwardly out to the front room. It was such a different mood to how we’d stumbled through the house tangled together earlier. The atmosphere was just as tense, but there was no mad, desperate need to touch each other, to sink into the other’s skin. This time there was a wariness, and edge of uncertainty filling the air.

  “Gillian…”

  “Alex…”

  We both began at the same time and then shared an awkward laugh. But it worked to break the tension of the moment.

  “I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” I said eventually.

  “I guess you will.”

  “And that’s okay?” I prompted.

  She sighed. “It’s okay, Alex.”

  “Joe.”

  “Joe,” she said and then smiled.

  Pulling her to me, I pressed my mouth to her forehead and inhaled deeply, drawing the scent of her deep into my senses and filing it away for later memories. Not that I needed more memories of Gillian, I had enough to last me a lifetime.

  Chapter Nine

  Gillian

  I never worried about what to wear to work. We didn’t have a work uniform, and it didn’t really matter what we wore, but today I struggled to choose something from my very unexciting wardrobe.

  Staring at the rows of jeans and t-shirts, nothing seemed quite right. Then there were the few dresses and skirts and the workout gear, none of which were suitable. Grabbing a pair of jeans and a pale-blue shirt, I shook my head at my silly behavior. It wasn’t lost on me why I was having a hard time choosing what to wear and why I had a swirl of butterflies in my stomach that meant I hadn’t been able to eat breakfast that morning. It was Alex. Alex, who’d spent the night with me. Alex, who’d slept curled around me. Alex, who’d touched, kissed, and made love to me. Alex.

  I still couldn’t believe he was back in my life. I still couldn’t believe he was real. It was like a dream, one I wasn’t sure I wanted to indulge in. There was so much there, in the past, so much hurt, so much resentment, so much anger and guilt. How did we even move past it? How did we ever forget what had happened? How my father was responsible for our daughter’s death? How I shut him out as I grieved, how he walked away when it all became too much for him?

  I wasn’t sure it was even possible. Not without causing us both an awful lot of fresh pain.

  Stopping off on the way to work, I grabbed two coffees. Miranda always started early and worked until late into the evenings. By the time I arrived she’d have been there for at least an hour, if not more. And Jacob didn’t start until after school drop off. Not that we had an awful lot of clientele first thing in the morning, but there was always something to do.

  When I walked into the studio, I was surprised to see Alex already there. He and Miranda were at the front counter and were laughing when I pushed open the doors. My heart paused in my chest on seeing Alex and my mouth went dry. Dressed in faded, ripped denims and a white t-shirt that hugged his hard body, he looked carefree and relaxed. He smiled when he spied me, hovering in the doorway with my tray of coffees, his green eyes warming as they washed over me appreciatively.

  “Gillian,” Miranda said in greeting, “good morning.”

  “Morning,” I replied, holding up the two coffees. “Sorry, I thought there was just the two of us…”

  “Seems Joe is an early bird too,” she replied. “We’ll have to add him to our coffee run.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, addressing Alex—Joe. “I didn’t think…” I cursed inwardly at my thoughtless behavior. I should have bought him a coffee. He probably took it black. How could I not have thought to when I’d pretty much been thinking about him all morning?

  “It’s fine. I’ve already had a couple.”

  I nodded and took a sip of my coffee, feeling awkward and nervous. Jesus, I was like a fifteen-year-old girl again, all flustered and nervous around him. He’d always had that effect on me, from the moment I started joining in the art classes. He was gorgeous, dangerously gorgeous, and I was immediately attracted to him even though I knew he was too old for me, came from a bad family, and was surrounded by beautiful girls—meaning he wouldn’t be interested in a shy, freckly goody-goody girl like me. That was what I’d believed, all those years ago, and even now, I guessed I still believed it. Alex walking out on me hadn’t really come as a huge shock, I realized, because I’d always expected him to.

  “Well,” Miranda said now, getting to her feet, her eyes flashing between the two of us. “I have some errands to run. You two okay here for a bit?”

  “Um yeah, sure,” I assured her.

  She nodded, a frown appearing between her eyes as she continued to shoot us quizzical looks. Yesterday I might have been able to fool her into thinking I had a case of food poisoning, but I knew that later on Miranda would be asking questions. Questions I wasn’t sure how or if I could answer.

  After she was gone, I meandered out back to set up my station. Alex followed, pulling a stool over and straddling it as he considered me.

  “Gillian…”

  I glanced up. “Hmm?”

  “About last night.”

  I nodded. Last night was wonderful, everything I’d dreamed of and more. Last night was the first time in years when I’d felt even slightly human. My heart had been repaired a little.

  “Last night shouldn’t have happened.”

  I stilled, my whole body frozen as his words washed over. “What?”

  “I mean don’t get me wrong,” he said quickly, “last night was wonderful. I mean you were … great.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “I was great? Gee, thanks for the recommendation.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean, well, it’s been a long time, Gillie.”

  “I’m aware of how long it’s been.”

  “Yeah. Well. I guess, what I want to say is that I’m fucked up. Fucked up big time.”

  I paused what I was doing.

  “I meant what I said earlier,” he said. “I never stopped.”

  I nodded. “I know.”

  “We have a lot to talk about,” he continued, “a lot we need to say.”

  I swallowed hard, forcing myself to nod but not trusting myself to speak.

  “Maybe tonight…” he began and then paused. I looked up at him to see a look of hesitation flash over his face. “I mean, we could go to dinner and maybe talk…”

  “That—” I was just about to tell him that would be great, the tiniest spark of hope stirring in my chest, when the door to the studio open, the tinkle of the bell signaling a customer interrupting us. I smiled at Alex. “That would be great. I better get that.”

  ****

  Jacob came in later that afternoon and Miranda introduced him to Alex—Joe—and the day passed in a noneventful manner. When I say noneventful, I mean I was constantly aware of Joe working nearby, I heard every word he said to either Jacob, Miranda, or the customers, and when Shelley, one of the beauty therapists down the road, popped in for a piercing, I burned with jealousy as I heard her flirting with him.

  “So Joe,” she was saying, “since you’re new in town, perhaps you’d like someone to show you around.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek.

  “I actually have someone who’s promised to do that,” he replied easily.

  “Oh really? Who?” Shelley asked, the disappointment evident in her voice. My ears strained to hear his reply too.

  “Gillian.”

  I smiled at his reply and ducked my head, focusing on the sketch I was creating for a client. My cheeks burned and I felt my heart turn over in my chest. I was sixteen years old again and crushing on Alex Sayers, listening to everything he said and analyzing every word that came out of his mouth.

  When at last, the day was over and we’d packed out, walking out of the studio together leaving Miranda behind to complete paperwork, I suddenly f
elt incredibly awkward. There was so much to say and so much I didn’t want to say.

  “So,” Alex said, “do you want to go home first? Or…”

  “I’m hungry now,” I said quickly, not wanting to delay my time with him any longer. Even though we’d been together all day, I craved the intimacy we’d shared last night and wanted more of it.

  He nodded and we walked down the road a little bit before we both agreed on a small Italian restaurant. It was only after I’d made a start on my glass of wine that I began to relax a little.

  “I missed you, Gillie.”

  I looked up. “We’ve been together all day.”

  “No. I missed you for the last few years. While I was away, in the army. I missed you every second of every day.”

  “Alex…”

  “Wait,” he interrupted, “please, let me speak before you say anything.”

  I nodded.

  “I missed you and I’ve known for the longest time that I fucked up. That walking away and giving up on us was the worst mistake of my life. I should never have let them—your father—win. I should have stayed and fought. I should have pressed charges and made it known that he tried to kill me. I know that it would have been hard on you, but it has been fucking hard on me these last few years being away from you.”

  I reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

  “But I did what I thought was right at the time. I thought with me out of the picture you would have the life you were meant to have. You’d marry someone your parents approved of. But I was wrong. I loved you, I loved you so fucking much. I loved you from the minute you walked in to the art class as a freckly, cute teenager, and I never stopped loving you.”

  “Alex…”

  “I’m not done, Gillie,” he said and inhaled sharply.

  This was hard for him, I got that, so I fell quiet again, encouraging him with a squeeze of his hand to continue.

  “I wasn’t lying when I said before that I’m fucked up. I don’t sleep. I barely eat. I drink. I have nightmares. No family. I have nothing to my name, and other than drawing ink on skin, I have no skills. I was never good enough for you. I knew that then and I know that now, but I swear to God I still love you, Gillie.”

  My heart lurched so high in my chest that my throat tightened. My eyes burned and I blinked rapidly to keep my emotions in check. Was I dreaming this? Was I completely lost in a dream or was this real?

  “I should have never walked away when things got bad the first time, and I should never have abandoned you to them. And I’m sorry. I will spend the rest of my life regretting it. But I’ll also spend the rest of my life regretting this moment now too, if I didn’t tell you how I feel, if I didn’t beg for another chance, if I didn’t tell you that last night was everything I’d dreamed of for so long and more.”

  I stared at Alex, unable to find any words to express how I was feeling. He loved me. He still loved me. He was sorry and he was damaged and he still loved me. Images of the little girl we’d both loved flooded my mind, as well other moments, the tender moments that we’d shared, the way he curled himself around me in bed, the way he smiled at me as if his smile was just for me. The patient way he’d taught me his craft all those years ago, the words of encouragement and praise he used to genuinely inspire my creative talents. I’d never found that with anyone since, and I knew I never would. Alex was it for me, he always would be, and if I let him walk away from me now, again, I would live my life with regret and heartache, which was what I was already doing.

  “Gillie?”

  I blinked, realizing that he was waiting for me to say something. “Alex…”

  “Just so you know, I can leave,” he continued. “I have no attachments to this place or to anyone here. If you want me to go I can. I can drive out of here tomorrow and promise to never bother you again. I can—”

  “No,” I interrupted quickly. “No. I don’t want that. I don’t want that at all.”

  “You don’t?”

  I shook my head. “Definitely not. No. I want you to stay. I want you to stay with me. Everything you’ve said is everything I’ve felt. I haven’t been living, I’ve been simply staying afloat these last few years. You say you shouldn’t have left, well I shouldn’t have let you. I should have fought tooth and nail for you, argued and clung to you and begged you not to leave me. But I didn’t. I was so caught up in my own grief that I didn’t. And I’ve regretted it every day since. So you can’t leave town, Alex. I won’t let you walk out on me again.”

  At the end of my statement, Alex smiled, his eyes warming to mine. “This won’t be easy. I meant when I said I’m fucked up…”

  “And I still speak to mother…”

  “I have no money to my name…”

  “And I have a serious addiction to reality television.”

  “I don’t even own a television. I don’t own anything.”

  “I have a cat.”

  “I hate cats.”

  “I know.” I smiled and then giggled. “I don’t really have a cat.”

  Alex laughed. “Thank God, ’cause you know, that might’ve been a deal breaker.”

  “Is that right?” I cocked an eyebrow.

  “That’s right.” And then he grew serious once more. “So, we gonna do this, Gillie? We gonna try this again?”

  I nodded. “I think we are.”

  Alex smiled and the teenage girl inside me who fell in love all those years ago did a fist pump in the air.

  Only this time, I wasn’t a teenage girl anymore, and I was never going to let him go again.

  The End

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