Page 53 of A Kiss under the Stars
I hurry to the back of the bus, but the driver seems to becleaning his glasses before starting off again.Come on, come on! Let’s go,please!
At last, we’re moving off, achingly slowly, and I catchsight of Liam’s frustrated face as we drive past him. He missed the bus by justa few seconds. I know my action was extreme, but when you’re attempting toavoid getting your heart broken yet again, ‘extreme’ is sometimes justified.
I glance out of the window. We’re already a few stops out ofSunnybrook and I’ll have to walk back to the car. I ping the button and the busslows, pulling into the stop just beyond the lay-by where Mum and I parked theother day for our meeting.
I thank the driver and hop off, preparing to hike back toSunnybrook.
But before I set off, I decide to walk through the woods tothe hide again. My feelings about Liam are in such a tangle and I need a bit ofcalm. Some time to think. And where better than the peace of the hide? Maybe...just maybe I’ve been too hasty in giving him a wide berth, assuming the worstinstead of finding out what he was doing the other night? It’s just that myinstinct told me to be wary of him, and I’ve ignored my instinct far too oftenin the past and ended up coming a cropper because of it.
It’s a bright day of blue skies but with a definite autumnalnip in the air, and I pull my light jacket tightly around me as I walk to thehide. Once there, I slip inside and sit down on the end of the bench, leaningforward on the narrow counter and plunging my hands into my hair in despair.
Why is life so bloody complicated?
And then I hear a rustle in the bushes and the sound ofsomeone walking towards me.
I groan to myself, refusing to look up because I know he’llbe there... Liam... wanting to know whyI’ve been avoiding him and not replying to his texts. I don’t know how he canhave got here so quickly. He must have hitched a lift and asked them to followthe bus. I guess that shows a certain desperation to see me, but I’m still notgoing to risk my heart...
He crunches over the fallen leaves until he’s standing rightthere, at the entrance to the hide.
‘Lottie?’
I’m about to raise my head and say a weary hello.
But something isn’t right. My throat is suddenly as dry as abone.
That voice...
I look up, and my heart gives the biggest lurch ever andstarts banging chaotically against my ribcage.
‘Dylan?’
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
‘Lottie.’
Dylan is standing in the doorway to the hide, and for anelectrifying moment, we simply stare at one another, as my heart gallops alonglike a Grand National winner.
My big brother looks just the same.
Same lanky frame, his shirt seeming to hang off him. Samemop of dark blond hair looking as if it hasn’t seen a brush or comb in ages.Same kind, intelligent blue eyes. And the same frown line above his nose whenhe’s feeling unsure.
But the familiar generous smile – the one I used to say lithim up from within – is missing. There’s a weariness and a vulnerability in hisface that – despite all the bitter despair and the sense of abandonment I’vebeen feeling since he left – still manages to tug at my heartstrings.
‘How are you, Lottie?’
I open my eyes wide and accusingly. I’m not sure what Iwanted from him exactly, but it certainly wasn’tthis...this gratingly unoriginal greeting!
‘Never mind howIam, Dylan!’ I snap. ‘How areyou?And more importantly, where the hell have youbeenall this time? Youcould have at least sent me a bloodypostcardfrom wherever you were,telling me you were okay. Instead of just buggering off and leaving me all bymyself to pick up the pieces of our life? Did you even bother tothinkabouthow I’d feel, not having you around anymore? You were there all my life,supporting me, and then you were gone! Do you know how that felt? I thought you’dcome back for my graduation ceremony, at least. You knew how much it meant tome. But you didn’t even bother to show your face!’ I’m so angry at him, I’m actuallyshaking. ‘So whydidyou leave? I mean,really? Because itobviously wasn’t just to go travelling. Was it that you’d had enough of menagging you about your drinking?’ My eyes flash with fury at him. ‘Howisthe drinking these days?Been to any good AA meetings latelyor haveyou abandoned them like you abandoned me?’
This last accusation is accompanied by a huge dry sob rushingup from my chest and precipitating the arrival of the tears.
Dylan makes a move to comfort me but I hold up my hand tostop him, shaking my head as the tears roll down, and he stands right where heis, rubbing his temple and looking as guilty as it’s possible for anyone tolook.
I’m aware I need answers and I’m not allowing him to speak,but white-hot anger at him is still raging inside me, and as I carry onranting, off-loading every single pent-up emotion, harsh words are spilling outof my mouth – the harshest words I’ve ever spoken to him, even at the height ofhis alcohol addiction when things were frankly desperate.
He takes it all, hanging his head in shame.
‘I’m sorry, Lottie,’ he murmurs, when all my screechingemotion is spent and I’m sagging, exhausted, over the wooden bench, juststaring at him. ‘You might find this hard to believe, but when I left, I trulybelieved it was long overdue and it was for the best.’
