Page 22 of Hurt to Love
“Good morning. I hope you’re hungry.” The boyish grin on his face was endearing. I guessed most girls would’ve loved to wake up to a man like him, cooking them breakfast in his girlie apron whilst he danced about. I wasn’t most girls though.
I took a seat at the island and looked at the mountain of pancakes and toppings he had spread out over the counter. I didn’t even know where to start.
“I went out earlier, did a bit of food shopping. I figured you’d be starving after… you know.” He looked down at his frying pan, suddenly overcome with what I imagined was embarrassment. Then he took a deep breath and painted that killer smile back on. “It’s a new day, Wednesday. A fresh start for you.” He held his spatula up and pointed it at me as he spoke. “Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Now, eat up. You need feeding. Then we’ll have a chat about what the doctor said last night.”
I sighed, really not wanting to rehash what had transpired. I definitely didn’t want to tear open those wounds. It was hard enough keeping them closed so I could function each day.
“She’s gonna help you, Wends.” He slid the next pancake off his frying pan and onto a plate and then pushed it across the counter towards me. “You’ve gotta take every bit of help that’s offered to you. We both do.”
There it was again.We.
I wasn’t his problem, but he seemed to think I was.
“Eat up. There’s plenty more where that came from.” He winked in that flirty manner that came naturally to him.
I turned my attention from his ever-hopeful handsome face to the light streaming in through the open patio doors. The view was breath-taking. I knew it would be after getting a short glimpse of it last night. There was a stunning pool and sun lounging area outside, but it was the golden beach and crystal blue waves that called to me. It’d been years since I’d been to the beach, and I didn’t think I’d ever been to one as idyllic as this. There wasn’t a soul in sight on the sand. The waves that gently lapped and rolled over the beach were calling out to me, beckoning me on to explore. All feelings of hunger took second place to the overwhelming urge I had to go and feel that sand through my toes. To smell the salt of the sea and feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. I needed it to feel alive.
I left the fork where it was, not touching the pancake, and stood from my stool. Cillian stopped what he was doing to watch me, but he didn’t say a word, just stood rooted to the spot.
I walked over to the doors and stepped through, ignoring the pool and heading straight for the gate that led to the steps down to the beach. Each step I took, I felt a little lighter. I glanced up and down the compact, private stretch of sand, but it was deserted. There were no other houses. The only indication of life I could see was a boat or yacht of some kind sitting at the end of a jetty, positioned just to the left of this little haven.
“That’s Luca’s yacht. You know, the one who’s letting us stay here?” I turned to see Cill standing at the gate, but he wasn’t coming to join me. I guessed he was keeping an eye on me. His protective streak was unwavering, that was for sure. It did settle my nerves to know it wasn’t a stranger’s yacht, or worse still, the brothers watching us, waiting for a chance to strike.
I bent down and grabbed a handful of the silky smooth grains of sand, letting them drizzle through my fingers as I strode forward towards the shimmery waves. Everything, the sounds, the smells, the whole feel of the place, was nirvana. I never wanted to leave.
I strode into the waves, not giving any thought to the clothes I wore. The sea was cold and made my skin prickle and goosebump, but I didn’t care. It made me feel alive. I was used to the cold. I waded in farther, letting the water seep into my tracksuit bottoms, then into my hoodie. The coldness became bearable and the weight of the water against my body felt reassuring, like the sea was holding me. It had me cocooned, safe. It would never let me go. Like a gentle embrace from nature; this was a new beginning.I drifted my hands over the surface of the water, feeling the gritty, bubbly waves, and reminded myself ‘today is the first day of the rest of your life’.I dropped down, letting the water take me under. Revelling in the chance to hide, to disappear. This was my own baptism, my rebirth. The water that washed over me wanted to take the sins away, wash away all the evil that’d drowned my soul for so long, and I wanted it to. I welcomed it.
I stayed under the cool darkness, absorbing the inner peace it gave me, until my body screamed in protest at the lack of oxygen. Then I lifted myself up and drew in a haggard desperate breath. I was a fighter. I could be a warrior. Wasn’t that what I’d been these past few months? Sure, I despised being touched and I wasn’t ready to talk yet, but that was my choice. I could work on that. I could work on me, and getting myself back to a place that I felt at peace. That had to be my goal, otherwise, why had I held on for so long? No more pity parties. The nightmares would still come, they always did, but I’d work hard to combat those. Like Cill said, I needed to accept all the help I could get.
To anyone else looking on, I probably seemed like a crazy woman. Walking into the sea fully clothed and immersing herself in the waves. But for me, it was an epiphany. I was me, and I was free.
* * *
When I headed back upto the house, Cill was standing at the gate waiting for me, with a big fluffy towel in his hands.
“Good swim?” he joked, draping the towel around my soaking wet shoulders and trying to rub me dry.
As was my natural instinct, I shrugged him off and grasped the corners of the towel tightly under my chin. I’d exchanged the comforting sea for the comfort of the towel. It was another cloak I could wear to hide myself. I preferred to stay hidden; it had always helped me in the past. I’d become adept at being invisible when needed, and I needed it a lot lately.
We walked back inside and our heads shot up as a thump from the hallway echoed through the house. Cill darted forward and went to grab something from the kitchen. A knife for protection, probably. But when a petite blonde lady sauntered in, he stopped dead in his tracks.
“I take it you’re the annoying guest Luca warned me about.” She smiled, looking Cill up and down.
He frowned, but his shoulders relaxed slightly. He didn’t see the woman as a threat.
“That would be me,” he replied, bowing like a prince. Anyone would think she’d given him a compliment, not an insult. “He didn’t tell me about you though. Who are you exactly?”
She smirked. “I’m the owner of the apron you’re wearing. I must say, it does look better on you though.”
Cill winked, as he always seemed to do when he was in a playful mood. “I do think pink is my colour. It brings out the green in my eyes.”
“Indeed it does,” she purred back.
I stood against the wall, watching their exchange, but praying I could fade into the background. I wasn’t comfortable as it was, living here with Cill, so I certainly wasn’t ready to accept another stranger into my life just yet. Definitely not one as bright, vivacious, and utterly captivating as this girl was. All bouncing long blonde hair, sparkling eyes, and curves for days. She was everything I wasn’t. Everything I used to be and wanted to be again one day. What I didn’t want was to be reminded of how lacking I was on a daily basis. And being around this girl kinda brought that emotional tug of unworthiness to the forefront of my mind. I hoped she wasn’t a live-in employee.
She turned to me, grimacing as she took in my wet clothes and straggly, sea-soaked hair sticking to my face. “So, are you two…?” She pointed between Cill and me, and was about to say, ‘an item’, but Cill soon put her straight.
“Oh no. We’re just friends. Good friends. We’re having a well-earned rest from… stuff.”
