Page 27 of Love Beyond Repair
Love, Kelsey xoxo
A note. A short goodbye after nearly ten years. I read it. Stared. Then read it again. It was then the panic set in.
I called her phone over and over, but she didn’t pick up. I left voicemails begging her to call me back. My mind went straight to the worst-case scenarios. What if she hurt herself?
After no success in tracking her down, I called her father, the man who had been to hell and back with the death of his wife. It was only in recent months that his mood had improved. I’m sure it’s because of his new friend. Once, when I had dropped some homemade biscuits round from Kelsey, I’d seen her. He asked me not to say anything as he wanted to keep things private. I respected his wishes.
“Ben,” his calm, cool voice answered on the first ring, “she’s here.”
My heart rate immediately slowed. Relief came, followed by a flood of anger. She knew damn well how her exit would affect me. That the lack of information would drive me insane.
“What’s going on? All she will tell me is there is a problem at home, and she needed to leave.” His voice was confused. I considered my words carefully, though I was as lost as him.
“I’m not sure. Things have been a bit strained recently, but I had no idea she felt like this. I came home to a note and her keys.” He sighed.
“She’s safe. Give her a few days, and I’ll get her to call you.”
She never did.
Her father said she was refusing to speak to me. She wouldn’t answer my calls. He told me she was crying one minute and declaring freedom the next. Her job transfer was already in progress. She wasn’t coming back. So, I packed up the last few bits she left and sent them by courier.
That was it. We were done.
And here’s the part I hate to admit. The truth that keeps me up at night. Beyond the ache, the heartbreak, and the loss was an emotion stronger than any other.Relief.An unburdening that can only be felt when pressure eases. Kelsey leaving me gave me a freedom I hadn’t experienced since being a teenage boy, and I liked it.
***
With Kelsey gone these past weeks, my mind is doing the one thing I wish it wouldn’t. It keeps drifting to Bex. Something’s shifted between us, and I don’t know what to do with it. I thought I was doing a good job of ignoringit. Clearly not. I’ve never looked at Bex like that. Not until now. And maybe not even now. It’s not lust, it’s awareness.
She’s bold. Alive. Like finally, she sees herself, never mind everyone else noticing her. She’s always been Bex. Slightly awkward. Messy buns. Witty comments she doesn’t realize she’s making. Just a pleasant person to be around. I’ve never thought of her in any other way. Not seriously.
Until now, sitting here, surrounded by Kelsey’s absence and wondering what the hell it all means. These past weeks made me notice her. That’s all. But perhaps that’s dangerous enough.
I’m sitting on the sofa watching the soccer match. The TV’s on, but I’m not really watching. There’s been no sign of Bex today. Maybe she’s sleeping off a hangover. She went out with Amy last night. Bex dressed in that damn nurse's outfit again. A belated fancy dress party. Or maybe they’re avoiding the tension that hangs around like fog since Kelsey’s departure.
Part of me wonders if she stayed out. The idea bothers me more than it should. I push away the image that forms. It’s none of my business. This is ridiculous. A complete overreaction. My mind is fried with Kelsey leaving. I’m distracting myself with this nonsense.
I blame the silence. The abundance of time to overthink. I’ve never had these thoughts about Bex before. Notintentionally, anyway. And I’m not starting now. I sit and stew for a while, caught between obsession and guilt.
Feet padding softly down the hall tell me that someone has woken up. There is a slight cough and then, “Ouch! Fuck, that bloody hurts.” I stifle a giggle as Bex appears in the living room. “Bloody door. Stubbed my toe,” she smarts.
I smile. She looks like chaos—hair everywhere, makeup smudged, drowning in an oversized t-shirt. But somehow, it suits her. She drops onto the arm of the sofa with a groan and rubs at her toe, completely unfazed by her dishevelment. There’s something strangely endearing about that. Tired eyes meet mine, and she smiles.
“Morning,” I say quietly.
“Is it still morning? I haven’t had as much fun as I did last night in a long time. I need to wear a nurse's costume more often. Two outings, and they’ve been the best.” She laughs, and it is completely infectious. I can’t help but chuckle along with her.
“What?” she questions, catching me off guard. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
She frowns slightly as she searches my face for clues. She’ll be automatically jumping to the wrong conclusions. Looking to smooth a surface or bridge a gap before an issue arises. I look her square in the eye, trying to make sense of the new version of her I keep seeing. One caughtsomewhere between the Bex before, and this more confident one.
“I’m just enjoying seeing you so happy. It’s nice to see you smiling the morning after a night out. Normally, you’re quite down and brooding.”
Her eyes pop wide. I realize my comment was deep. I didn’t even realize I’d noticed. But I had. Somewhere along the line, I started paying attention. She’s looking at me curiously, obviously thinking the same thing. A few minutes later, I’m just sitting there gawking.
There’s a pull I don’t understand. A weight in the air that didn’t used to be there. She looks at me uneasily, completely at sea with my bizarre behavior. Dragging my focus away, I pretend to go back to watching the game, needing to steady myself. No one has ever affected me like this. And I’ve not even touched her, not that I plan to. This isn’t the time to consider anything beyond what’s happening now.
She wanders round to the other sofa and sits down, curling her legs up underneath her. “Who’s playing?” she asks.
