CORAL - Fallen (A Romance Trilogy, Book 2) (19 page)

He sniffs again then leans down and kisses
me; his lips are so soft from his tears. “Still wanna marry me?” he croaks
against my lips.

“Yes,” I answer smiling up at him,
wondering what I did to deserve this angel, this magnificent man in my life.

He gazes down at me, his face haunted with
some unnamed emotion. “Good,” he whispers. “But I have a condition.” He adds…

THE PHONE RINGS
pulling me
from my musing, I pick up the handset in a daze.

“
Garland and Associates, Coral speaking.
”
My voice doesn
’
t sound like me.
I frown deeply at the handset. The line is free. There
’
s no one there. Realization
dawns that it
’
s my mobile
buzzing in my bag, not the landline –
Not a good sign!

Replacing the handset and taking my mobile
out of my bag, I look at the screen but it doesn’t say who it is. I hate
answering anonymous calls.

“Hello?” I say, my voice low, unfriendly.

“Darling it’s Gladys.” She shrieks.

“Oh hi, I didn’t recognise the number?” I
softly say.

“I'm on Malcolm’s mobile.” She tells me.

I roll my eyes. “Gladys, where’s your
mobile?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Lost it.”
How many is that now?
It’s a good job she only has cheap pay as you go mobiles. “Can you talk
darling? Are you at work?” She asks.

“Of course I’m at work!” I snipe. I’m
trying not to get mad with her even though I know she’s hiding something.

“Well, I’ll be quick. What are your plans
for this Wednesday?”
Great there goes my evening to myself.

“Well’ – “
Marvellous
darling,” she interrupts then continues excitedly. “Malcolm and I
have something for you, so we’ll see you for tea. It will be just you darling?”
she questions.

I frown deeply. “Why?” I question suspiciously.

“Because, well…what we have for you...Oh I
can’t tell you over the phone. Malcolm made me promise,” she says sounding
giddy.

“Yes,” I sigh. “It will be just me.” I
sound sad.

“Oh good,” I hear Malcolm shout something
in the background. “Oh yes, Saturday darling are you free?” Hmm…let me think?
I’ll more than likely be shagging Tristan’s brains out!

“I’m not sure, why?” Why do I feel nervous?

“Well now you have plans,” she chuckles.

“I do?” I balk.

“Yes, Malcolm and I are getting everybody
together for a barbeque to meet before the wedding.” She tells me.

“Everybody?” I squeak.

“Yes dear, let’s see…there’ll be you,
Debbie, Scott & Lily. Malcolm’s daughters Ellie and Erin and their families,
Joyce and…oh you’ll never guess – “Gladys,” I interrupt, she sounds excited
which is great, but I know what she gets like when she’s got her jabbery head
on, she’ll talk me to death. “Count me in,” I tell her a little
sombrely
.
What about Tristan?

Hmm, I don’t want to go on my own, but I'm
not ready for everyone to meet him yet. I’m not ready for the third degree
treatment that I know we’ll get –
Fuck, what do I do?

“Oh lovely darling, we’ll see you lunchtime,
at the house.” She says.

“Ok,” I mumble.
Great a day without Tristan
while he’s here in Brighton!

“Darling are you alright?” Gladys asks
sounding concerned. No, I'm not!
Fuck it, he has to come!
“Yeah sure...I
can bring a friend right?”

Gladys sniggers down the phone. “That
wouldn’t be Tristan by any chance?” I cringe at the gleeful tone her voice has
taken on.

I sigh heavily. “Gladys please don’t make a
big deal out of it, we’re just friends. I don't want him being made to feel
uncomfortable’ – “Oh hush, he’ll be fine!”

“Gladys!” I scold. “You and Debs are
terrible when you get together. Please, I don't want Tristan to be embarrassed
or me,” I add.

“I embarrass you?” she asks her voice a
little high pitched.

“Yes, no, I mean...just...” I sigh inwardly.
Gladys is sniggering again. “Never mind, see you Wednesday,” I say hanging up
to even more laughter. So now we have a day full of Gladys and Debs and happy
families, meeting more new people –
Great!
God help me!

God help Tristan, I hope he can handle it.

Shaking my head I stare blankly at my half
eaten bowl of muesli, picking up my spoon I take a mouthful and start chewing,
it tastes like cardboard –
Yuck!

I put the bowl down
and try to work out
what they have planned for me on Wednesday, but nothing comes to mind. I'm
still mad at Gladys,
and
Debs. I know they are both keeping something
from me, but maybe I can use this opportunity to talk to them about it, that
was
my plan for this weekend gone. I guess I kind of got side tracked.

I get an image flash up of Tristan going
down on me – everything south of my waistline contracts. My soul feels as
though it’s trying to leave me to go find him, my heart feels like it’s going
to burst out my chest – I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t help, I can’t
breathe!

Ok. Coral deep breaths, yes you have the
sexiest man on the face of the planet, but come on, get a grip. You’re at work
for god’s sake!

Once my breathing calms down I take another
mouthful of muesli. I must make sure I eat, if I lose more weight Tristan’s
going to know I’ve not been eating, and he won’t be best pleased, just like the
comment he made last night about not eating all my evening meal – Not that I
should worry about what Tristan thinks. It’s not like I can help it, I'm in
love, I’ve lost my appetite – if I don't eat, I don't eat, if I lose weight
it’s just tough, there’s not much I can do about it.

Wiggling the mouse on my desk I take a look
at my in-box, there’s some letters with a red flag next to them which means
Joyce needs them urgently, I go to open the first one up but no matter how hard
I try, I just can’t stop thinking about Tristan’s condition…

I LOOK UP AT TRISTAN
with
wide, worried eyes. “What’s the condition?” I whisper, not really wanting to
know the answer.

“I want to know what happened to you,” he
gazes down at me his eyes deep and intense.

I frown back at him, I have a sinking
feeling I know what he means –
Being raped, he wants all the gory details!
– I wish he would drop it!

“Tristan,” I try to move, to pull away from
him.

“Don’t run,” he whispers, gently holding me
against him.

“I'm not running I just...” I stare up at
the ceiling. “Why? Why do you want to know?”

He leans down and kisses my cheek. “I just
do.”

I sigh heavily. “Fine!” I grumble. I decide
the best way to go about it is to let Tristan ask the questions. “Ask away,” I
gripe waving my hand.

Tristan shakes his head in frustration.
“I'm just trying to get my head around it Coral, why you’re the way you are.” I
stare back at him. I don't think we are actually talking about the same thing?

“What do you mean?” I ask my voice
trembling slightly.

“All men make me nervous? All men are creepy?
You’ve always felt alone, you don’t like to be tickled, you find it really hard
to let people in, you don’t trust anyone. Shall I go on?”
Fuck – He’s not
talking about what I thought he was.

“You know about my past,” I bite.

“Not all of it,” he says, shaking his head.
Shit!
My
heart starts pounding against my chest, my breathing erratic.

“Tristan...please,” I breathe.

“Does George know?” I ignore that one. “Why can't you just
answer the question?” He adds. I can tell he’s getting annoyed with me.

“Tristan,” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Please don't do this,” I
whisper, my mouth dry, my throat getting tighter.

“Baby, look at me,” he demands. I open my eyes and gaze up
at him. “I'm right here baby, nothing and no-one is going to hurt you,” he
tells me softly stroking my cheek, but I feel frozen. “Why do you look so
scared?” he adds.

“Because I feel trapped,” I shout.

“Trapped?” He says his voice low.

“Yes, now move Tristan, get off me...please,” I whimper,
choking back unwelcome tears.
I don't want him to know about
that part of my life!
Christ, he’s just got enough out of me!

His eyes narrow, but he rolls onto his side, freeing me.
I stand up and pull my knickers on, then yank Tristan’s t-shirt over
my head. I stomp into the kitchen – I need a drink. I hear Tristan footsteps
following me.

“Why can’t you answer the question?” He
repeats in a soft tone, moving around the breakfast bar to reach me. I glance
across at him and see he’s put his boxers on. My heart starts pounding even
harder, just looking at his body makes it happen. I turn away from him and pour
myself a Brandy. I gulp it back in one go, wincing as it burns my lungs and
hits my empty stomach.

“Baby…” I see Tristan in my peripheral
vision taking a step towards me.

I turn to him and put my hand up to stop
him. “You’re not my god damn therapist Tristan!” I snipe. Turning away from
him, I start to pour another large Brandy.

“That’s not the answer,” he softly says,
his long fingers enclosing around mine. He takes the brandy off me and places
it on the side, takes my other hand away from the glass and turns me gently to
face him. “I want to know Coral, all the good and the bad. I want to start my
life with you and I want everything laid out on the table,” he softly says,
gazing down at me with those big, loving, soulful eyes.

I begin to feel very nauseous and
lightheaded. “Tristan,” I whisper and squeeze my eyes shut. “Believe me when I
say there are some things you’d rather not know.”

“I very much doubt that, please tell me,”
he softly says.

“Tristan,” I mumble. It’s a warning; a plea
for him to stop.

“Come on baby, it can't be that bad,
surely?”

“Tristan,” I choke and bring my hands to my
face, trying to hide the tears that are cascading down my cheeks. “Please, I'm
begging you…” I sniff.

“Please tell me baby, open your heart to
me,” he breathes.

I look up at him through blurry eyes. “Why,
it’s not like you can do anything about it? It happened, that’s it. It’s the
past!” I shout running my hand through my hair. I feel like I’ve got thousands
of ants crawling under my skin.

“Please baby,” Tristan holds his hand out
to me. “Talk to me, let me in,” he begs.

“No!” I scream in outrage, my hands clenched
into fists at my sides. “Why can't you just let this fucking go!” I storm out
of the kitchen.

Reaching the stairs, I take them two at a
time, desperate to get away from him, from his questioning – I feel like
screaming I’m so fucking angry. When I reach the master suite, I come to a stop
in front of the king size bed. It’s happening again, just like it did with Justin,
they get too close, start to mean too much to me and I pull away, start to
self-destruct it.

I pace the floor, my hands gripping my hair
in frustration, I hate being like this! Why can’t I be like other people? Why,
for just one fucking second can’t I feel normal, whole…

***

I hear Tristan call
me from the bottom of the stairs. I don’t want him here right now I’m too full
of rage to have any kind of coherent conversation. I just need some space, some
time to think things through.

“Tristan, don’t come up here,” I shout,
warning him. “I need to calm down ok, just give me some time.”

“Ok,” he answers, he doesn’t sound too
happy. I fall to the floor, the rage finally turning to tears. I curl myself
into a ball and rock myself. Why can't he understand that I can't talk about
the past? It’s too horrifying to remember, and I don’t want to remember, I
don’t want to go back, I just want to get better. I squeeze my eyes shut and
rest my head on my knees, trying my best to push the horror of my past away,
but what seems like moments later, I hear Tristan again.

“May I come up?”
God damn his good
manners
– I just can’t say no!

“Ok,” I croak, then heave myself up off the
floor and sit on the edge of the bed. Tristan walks in, I keep my eyes to the
floor so all I can see are his naked feet. Crouching down in front of me he
hands me another Brandy, then takes a sip of his own.

“Baby, I’m so sorry I pushed, I didn’t mean
to upset you. But you’ve kind of answered my question, whatever it was that
happened to you…must have been really bad,” he whispers.

I finally look at him. “Do you like seeing
me like this?” He solemnly shakes his head. “Then stop asking,” I whisper.

“I can't do that baby. You don’t have to
tell me now, I know it scares you.” Reaching up he swipes a tear from my cheek
with his thumb. “But we can’t start a life together with the past hanging over
our heads baby.”