FIVE
Belle
A sick sense of déjà vu washes over me as I tap my fingers on my knees and search the crowd for Kate. I couldn’t deny her request to catch up over coffee. After all, if I’ve changed as much as I have over the past three years, then who’s to say that she’s stayed the same? We kept in touch via social media, but there’s a certain level of disconnect when you don’t physically speak to someone. It’s easy to slap a like on a post, or make a casual comment on a picture, when you can do it without having to touch on the sore subject of your past.
I pull my phone out to check the time: twenty minutes later than she said she’d be. We decided to meet up on Kate’s rostered day off: Wednesday. I slept most of Monday after finally crashing somewhere in the early hours, and then spent yesterday unpacking my bags, sorting my laundry, and making sure all the equipment I brought back with me was undamaged. In a way I could go for a session with the gun in my hand. The concentration, the focus that inking somebody’s skin requires, has always been a great way to settle my nerves. A kind of zen. I unlock the screen and check my messages to make sure I haven’t missed anything from Kate. Nothing new.
An old couple sit on the bench behind mine, chatting about what the grandkids got for Christmas. I stare down at the simple gold bracelet on my right wrist, unsure how I feel about Damien’s gift. He said he didn’t want to buy anything too big because I’d have to get it home with me—which is fair enough—but I also can’t shake the feeling that the plain band was an afterthought. I bought him a new GoPro after his last one got lost in transit on his way back from a festival in California. At least he should be putting it to good use this week.
I open Facebook and scroll my newsfeed, killing time until Kate arrives. I swipe my thumb up in a smooth rhythm, scrolling past pictures, memes, and random status updates. Nothing catches my attention until a familiar face makes me slam my thumb down to stop the roll and move back up.
No way. My pulse hammers as I stare at the screen. He’s unblocked me. Right there, in my suggested friends bar, is Zeus. Three years in the dark, and today he decides to let me in, even if only the tiniest bit.
This can’t be coincidence; he must know I’m home.
“Sorry I’m late. Parking is chaos.”
I smack the button on the side and black my screen as Kate stops before me. “I bet.” I give her a broad smile as I slip my phone in my bag and stand.
She pulls me in for a hug, crushing me in her embrace. It’s strange, but welcome all at the same time.
“I missed you.”
“Really?” I chuckle, disbelieving that she’d have time to miss me with her busy study schedule and the new guy she seems to post pictures of every damn day.
“Of course.” Her honey blonde hair flicks over her shoulder as she twists her head left and then right. “Where do you want to go for a coffee? I think most of the places in here are packed.”
“Wherever.” I pick up my purse and sling it over my shoulder. “We’ll just try them until we find one with a table, huh?”
“Sure thing.” Her eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiles. “So?”
“So, what?” We begin to walk, our shoulders pressed together in order to navigate the crowds.
“When do I get to meet him?”
Oh. I press my fingertips into the strap of my purse and frown. “Not for a few weeks.”
“Why not?” Her tone is light and playful. “You going to hide him away and keep him for yourself a bit longer?”
I catch her eye as I answer. “He’s still in the States.”
Kate pauses, a mother with a buggy splitting us up temporarily. “Why?”
“He’s doing a last trek before he comes back.”
I catch the bob of Kate’s throat as she swallows in my periphery. “You’re okay with that?”
I shrug. I was, but after our phone call last night it’s left me questioning where I stand with Damien. He talked for all of nine minutes before the lingering silences forced us to cede that we had nothing left to say to each other and he ended the call.
No sentiments. Just a “We’ll talk later, okay?” and then the signal to say he’d disconnected.
“I guess that nomadic bug is hard to shake, huh?” Her laugh comes off as forced.
“Yeah. It must be.” I link my arm through hers as we near the first café inside the mall. “Tell me all about your man.”
“Are you sure you want me to start, because I could chew your ear off for hours about him.”
I smile, certain that she can tell it’s equally as forced as her laugh was, and give her arm a squeeze. “I’m sure. I need the distraction.” Because if it’s not Damien on my mind, it’s another man that I can’t lock down my feelings for.
Each as out of reach as the other.
Kate recounts how she met her current guy in her first year training to be a nurse, chatting my ear off the whole time we order our drinks and find a table amidst the chaos. I narrowly avoid tripping over a stack of shopping bags as we pull out our seats, and squeeze myself in the narrow gap afforded by how close the café have their tables.
“How does placement work after you’ve completed your training?” I ask, spinning our table number between my fingers.
“They have a 75 percent success rate for local placements, so hopefully I won’t have to move too far away from here.”
I smile as she answers, piquing her interest.
“What?”
“I never picked you as one to stay here in Longdale, is all.” When we were young, escaping our small town was all she’d talk about.
“I didn’t think I would either, but while you were away things changed.”
This time it’s my interest that’s piqued. “How?”
Her gaze drops to the table and she fusses with the advertising card slipped between the salt and pepper shakers. “Mum got sick. She had some pretty serious treatment, and I’d rather stick around to help Dad take care of her.”
“Sick how?” Why the fuck didn’t she message me?
“She had a tumour. Out of the blue. Like, there’s no family history of cancer or anything.”
“Shit. I’m sorry, babe.”
Kate slices a hand through the air. “No. Don’t be. She’s as tough as old boots, and although it’s slowed her down a hell of a lot, it’s nothing we can’t handle.”
I reach across the table, humbled by the sheer realisation that we all had our personal battles to fight. “Well, I’m back now. So if I can help your parents at all, let me know.”
“Thanks, babe. That means a lot.” She sighs, eyes distant for a moment before she comes around. “Anyway. Tell me all about Damien while he’s not here to get embarrassed. I can’t believe you literally walked on the plane and that was the start of it.”
“It wasn’t really.”
We’d talked the whole flight, finding comfort in a kindred spirit. He confessed that he had no real plans once he reached the US, intending on travelling around and seeing as much as he could. So when he found me at the San Francisco layover and showed me the tickets he’d just bought to join me on my final leg, it blew me away.
We started out as friends, sharing a small two-bedroom place before the dynamics of our relationship became something more. Looking back, I wonder if given the time to breathe, if I had gone on to Colorado alone, whether I would have been so accepting of him? A part of me knows that to some extent we fell together out of necessity—allies in uncharted territory.
“He’s great, he really is.” I recite my usual answer with my normal lack of enthusiasm.
“But?” she asks, sensing my hesitation.
“It’s nothing.” I pull my hand from hers as our coffees, and her cake, arrive. “I’m sure it’s just mixed emotions being home.”
“Tell me anyway.” Kate gives the server a smile as the guy takes our number and leaves. “Hash it out, babe.”
“It’s normal to wonder what he’s up to, right?” I empty a sugar sachet into my drink and dunk the spoon.
“Of course.” She mirrors my movement. “You miss him.”
“I don’t. I don’t miss him, I just want to know what he’s doing because I don’t trust him.”
“Ooo.” She pulls her chin back, lips pursed. “Why do you feel like that? What did he do?”
“That’s just it: nothing. He’s done nothing. Every decision we’ve made while together has been too easy. We never really had any good fights; we never got into it about anything. He was always so keen to keep me happy, and I kind of wonder why.”
Kate sighs out her nose as she stirs her drink, shoulders dropping. “Without meeting him, it’s hard for me to say anything on the subject, babe. Give it time. Like you say, it’s probably just the adjustment to being home.” She shrugs. “Maybe he’s acting strange because he’s insecure too?”
“About what?”
“Well. Maybe he’s worried about what you’ll get up to all the way over here.”
I snort at the idea, swirling my spoon around the mug. “Hardly. What has he got to worry about?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. It was just a thought. Not as though you’ve got any exes he has to be jealous of or anything.”
She sips her coffee, and then slices her fork into her cake while the realisation hits me like a ton of bricks. Zeus. He could be envious of Zeus. Kate wouldn’t know that, because I never told her the extent of the relationship we had. But she’s figured out the problem between Damien and me without even realising it.
“Belle?”
“Huh?”
“You’ve gone white as a ghost.” She frowns, cake poised halfway to her mouth. “Does Damien have something to worry about?”
I stare at her, well aware I can’t bullshit my way out of this one. She might not know what exactly happened between Zeus and me, but she does know that the only other person I hooked up with was Scott, and he can’t really be classed as an ex anyway—not when it was a one-night stand.
Shit.
“Belle, baby. What exactly happened between you and that guy your dad knows?”