Dear Heart, You Screwed Me

Oh.

My.

God.

Slapping my hand around for my phone, I couldn’t bear to open my eyes.

Now I get why they call them Champagne headaches. I have never had a headache like this.

After I finished my stranger’s bottle, I ordered another one. I was in good company. Me, my credit card and my champagne.

Ugh.

Rolling on my back, I clutched my phone in my fingers. I lifted my arm slowly, one of my eyes just about open as I looked at the screen. It was eleven am. I don’t think I came to bed until at least four. Who keeps a cocktail bar open all night? This hotel. That’s who.

I had no plans today, and to be honest, that’s the way I wanted to keep it. If I can get my hungover arse out of bed, I may go for a walk through Central Park, get a coffee and just sit for a while. Sometimes it’s nice to disconnect yourself from the world for a while and listen to the birds singing, the children laughing, the trees softly dancing in the light breeze as the leaves rustle together. Sighing I dropped my phone into the duvet. I lay for a moment, my eyes pinned to the ceiling as I replayed the evening over and over in my head.

First off, Colt. What was I thinking?

Alcohol. That’s what I was thinking.

First one night stand and it was awful. Maybe it’s because I didn’t have a connection with him? Because isn’t sex meant to be between two people that love each other?

I was disgusted with myself.

Even thinking about last night was making my stomach roll with nausea.

Those thoughts were soon replaced with the mysterious K.

He was so beautifully and tragically handsome. His sharp and chiselled jaw line. The light brushing of dark stubble that surrounded his plump, bow lips. His hazel brown eyes that seemed so deep I wanted to dive into them and lose myself. The sun kissed glow of his skin that looked flawless. The thought of running my fingers across his skin, just to see if it felt as good as it looked.

My lips parted as my mind wandered away. I didn’t even know who he was. Just knew that his name began with a K, or did it?

But it didn’t matter how he looked or how I got the tingles all over my skin at just the thought of him. He was clearly with someone.

And I was no home wrecker.

He was just being kind. He no doubt took one look at me and thought what a poor unfortunate girl. Clearly out of her depth in a stunning hotel that was being loaded onto an already heavy credit card.

He was just being nice.

That’s all.

Nice and friendly.

Throwing the duvet back I walked into the stunning, large and light bathroom and turned the tap on for the tub.

I needed a nice bath. Sinking deep into the bubbles and laying there with a clear mind while blasting Taylor Swift from my phone.

It sounded just like heaven.

A pang of pain shot through my heart.

Heaven.

If it was heaven at least I would see my beautiful Elijah again, even if it was just one last time. If I knew the last time, I saw him would be the day he passed, I would have never let him go. I would have made him stay in bed, kissing me, me kissing him. Loving him for as long as I could. My fingers would have traced over his pale skin, drawing a map that only my fingers knew, that only my heart could remember the way to.

The thought of never getting him back again was a heavy weight in my heart, an ache that would never leave. It may ease, but it would never leave. He was imprinted in my heart. I may fall in love again, but his heart would always belong to mine. And mine would always be tied to his.

At least we both got to say I love you one last time.

He died knowing how much I loved him, our love had no limits, it was infinite.

Shutting the tap off, I pulled my clothes from last night away from my body and dropped them to the floor. Dipping my toe in, my skin spreading in approving goosebumps as the heat warmed me.

Slipping into the bath and submerging myself, I reached for my phone and pressed play on All Too Well – Taylor Swift.

And then I cried.

It had just gone two pm. I needed to eat, my stomach growling reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.

I walked through the hotel lobby, wearing a lemon summer dressed and tanned wedges, my cross-body bag hugging my body.

I saw Connie come bounding towards me like an excited puppy dog.

“Hey girl,” she called out, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. “On a scale of one to ten, how rough are you?”

“A solid eight.” I said, the alcohol still lingering on her breath making my stomach roll.

“Damn! I’m about a six. I had the munchies once I kicked Kieran out. He was a rocket in bed.” She nudged into me, dropping her arm from me and slipping it through my arm instead.

“Lucky you.” I groaned as we stopped before the revolving doors, her arm pulling out of mine.

“Oh no…” her eyes widened, her fingers tucking her hair behind her ears.

“Was it a crap lay?”

“Proper crap.” I flushed with embarrassment. It could have been me? Maybe I was the shit lay.

“Oh girl, I’m sorry.” She winced before pulling me into a tight embrace. “I’ll make it up to you, we will go out on the town and actually make it past the hotel doors tonight.” She winked before laughing.

“To be honest, I feel dead on my feet. Can we take a rain check?” I gave her my best puppy dog eyes, my hands pressed together as I pleaded with her.

I watched as she rolled her eyes so far back into her head, I was worried they would get stuck.

“Fine!” she crossed her arms across her chest, “I suppose I can let you chill.” She shook her head side to side, “but, next weekend… we’re out.”

I smiled at her, “I pinkie promise.” Holding my little finger out and waiting for her to wrap her little finger round mine.

“And you never break a pinkie.”

“Absolutely not.” I nodded before we broke away. “Enjoy the rest of your shift, I’m going for a walk.” I sighed a blissful sigh.

“Lucky bitch,” she groaned, “I still have five hours left.”

“I hope it goes quick!” I beamed, holding my hand up to say bye before disappearing through the revolving doors, the sun beating down on my skin.

Sitting at a small table with a cup of soda and a shake shack burger and crinkly chips drizzled in a cheese sauce. This was just what the doctor ordered for my hangover.

It was delicious.

Central Park was heaving and buzzing, and I loved the energy I felt from the park. I had always dreamt of coming here and now here I was.

Sitting here and soaking up every single moment of it.

Once I was finished, I cleared my mess and started walking. I had no clue where I was going, but I didn’t care. I just needed to walk and clear my mind. It felt too heavy with everything that had happened over the last few hours, plus it was always filled of what ifs and grief with Elijah. I never wanted to lose him from my thoughts, his memories and the heaviness I felt at his loss were in a safe vault. He was never being cleared, even if I met someone new, he would never be replaced. His memories were too far etched into me to ever be erased.

Eating an ice-cream as I wandered through the winding paths, I approached a large lake. Smiling at the kids standing and feeding the ducks. The little things that make you smile.

I used to love feeding the ducks. Something so small, but so enjoyable. Perching myself on the edge of a bench I just sat and watched while I finished my ice cream. I wish I had some bread myself so I could feed them, but now I know, next time I come I can be more prepared.

I was lost in thought when someone sat next to me. My head slowly turned before my heart hammered in my chest.

It was him.

“I hope you didn’t have too much of a headache this morning.” He smirked as he turned to face me. I felt my heart skip a beat, the breath catching in the back of my throat. Dripping from head to toe in an Armani suit and Louboutin Oxford shoes.

He looked delicious. He smelt even better. A weird combination of bitter and sweet… I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

My tongue darted out as I licked my lips.

“No,” I shook my head, snapping my head back around and focusing on the ducks, wagging their little tails as they lapped up the bread, their quacks echoing round the park.

“Do you like ducks?” he asked, his leg crossing over the other one, his hands resting on his knee.

“Erm,” I blinked for a moment, “they’re okay I guess?” what a strange fucking question.

Do I like ducks?!

“You’re British?” I saw a small smile cross his lips.

“Yup.” I breathed out.

Why was this so awkward?

“Where in England?”

“Near London,” I smiled softly, my mind flashing to back home in Ongar.

“I have offices in London, I normally head over there two to three times a year.” His eyes were still fixed ahead, he was also now watching the ducks.

“Oh” I mustered; I felt the crackle in the air.

“I’m Killian,” he turned to face me, holding his hand out for me to take.

Killian. The K.

It made sense now.

“Reese.” I smiled, wrapping my fingers round his hands as we firmly shook, I felt my skin smother in goosebumps before it tingled from my fingertips right through to my toes, my heart humming before a strong spark coursed through me.

Pulling my hand out of his quickly as if his touch hurt, I patted it on my dress.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Reese.” He stood slowly as he pushed the button through his navy suit.

“You too and thank you for the Champagne.” I swallowed, my mouth dry. Could he see my vein in my neck throbbing, my chest heaving as my heart thumped beneath my skin?

“You’re most welcome, hopefully I’ll see you again soon.” He winked before turning and walking away into the distance.

I watched until he was gone. My eyes fell to my hands, studying the small blue ring that sat on my middle finger. I had it made from Elijah’s ashes, so he was always with me. The rest of his ashes were given to his parents who scattered them at his favourite cove in Cornwall.

I didn’t agree, I thought they should have kept some of them but who was I to decide? He was their son. I didn’t have any rights in their choices.

Losing my Elijah benefited four people, so he was a superhero.

Someone got his heart, his kidneys, his liver and his lungs. It makes my heart swell momentarily thinking four people got to live because of him, but it took me a while to get to this point. First came grief, then anger… unbelievable anger. I mean how dare those four people get to live, and my Elijah didn’t. It didn’t seem fair.

His heart was so strong, but not strong enough to keep him with me.

The burn in my throat apparent, the sting behind my eyes almost unbearable. Swallowing the lump that was lodged in my throat back down, I stood quickly and walked back towards the hotel. That was enough sight-seeing for today.

I dragged my heavy legs along with my heavy heart to the hotel, my head down the whole way. I had fallen back into my black hole and that’s where I wanted to stay for the evening.

I needed a sad film, chocolate, and wine.

Then I would cry and cry some more.

It’s a process.

A coping mechanism.

Even two years on.

Climbing into the bed, sitting in my comfy pyjamas, I flicked through the pay to rent movie channel.

Smiling softly, I saw The Notebook on there.

This was perfect.

Heartbreakingly perfect.

I reached across for the chocolate and the cheap bottle of wine I bought on my way home. This was my evening sorted.