Cut (14 page)

Worry?

"I carried you into the room, I didn’t know what the fuck was going on."

I allow myself to watch him, intently, even though I was terrified of breaking all over again to the point of no return; but I was unable to look away. It’s a conflicting emotion when I’m around him that I don’t have the energy to assess or to fight. I can only obey.

"You carried me in?"

He doesn’t answer my question.

“The guy you called to, who you thought I was... this,
Evan
guy," he starts carefully. I gulp. Images of those puppy dog eyes appear in my mind at the mere sound of his name and my tortured chest erupts in agony.

OUCH!

It is excruciating. All I can manage is a shake of my head, my jaw tense and eyes firmly shut. I suddenly feel his delicate touch again on my skin, this time, cupped around my neck with fragility before running his fingers all the way down to my elbow and back up again.

"Penelope, did he hurt you?" he whispers.

Trying to keep it together all I can manage is another shake of my head; still keeping my eyes closed, I drop my chin to my chest.

Hurt me?

Not physically anyway.

"Is he a part of the story you don’t want to talk about?" he continues, his eyes burning through me, searching for answers. I feel his fingers move to my chin never once removing their contact from my bare skin, before finding their resting place on its very tip. He angles my head gently upwards so my face is forced in his direction and automatically my eyes open to make that connection. Even in the completely messy state that I am currently in, I
see
him. He is mesmerising.

Oh my….

As we focus only on each other and moments from a fatal accident, the throb inside my chest is felt heavy in my throat. The pain in my mind, my lungs, and now pounding heart, are all singing along to their own fierce tune. Before I can manage a word, or he can, I hear a buzzing sound accompanied by a vibration coming from his jeans.

His phone.

He doesn’t respond to it straight away, but after a couple of persistent hums his free hand answers it; never once moving his body or delicate grasp from me. I hear the muffled voice on the other end unable to make out the words and never once tearing our eyes away from each other. After a few moments, he sighs.

"I know, I’m on my way."

He puts his phone back into his pocket, still gazing at me intensely. I can’t fully put into words the way he makes me feel when he is looking at me. It’s a tightly bound parcel of confusion with a bow on top. All I really know, is that when he is with me, despite his coldness, his seemingly disinterested attitude, the danger in the air and all of the drama that comes along with him; I don’t want him to
not
be with me. He’s making me feel alive again. Almost making me feel like I can have an actual life.

This is going to kill me.

"Penelope, I have to go."

In a daze I just keep staring, not moving an inch, barely even blinking.

"I want you to tell me that you are alright, before I will leave you," he pleads. Still not really putting coherent thoughts together, I force a smile to my mouth automatically in response and soften my gaze upon his.

"I’ll be fine."

His expression is torn, but my words seem to be enough for him to rationalise that he is fine to go. He forces a tiny smile, mimicking mine.

"I will call you," he replies as his breath blows sensually out over my mouth - the scent beyond exhilarating to inhale. His face dips towards mine, still grasping my chin and places a firm yet intricate kiss on the very corner of my mouth. It lingers for a moment before he hastily pulls away, dropping his secure hold and standing all at the same time. Before I can manage a thought or response, he abruptly heads out of the lounge room and into the lobby. Mere seconds later, I hear the faint click of the entrance door.

He was gone.

The next day, I managed to stumble into the kitchen in one piece after spending most of the night and half of today, tossing and turning. Feeling like I had survived some kind of brawl I felt physically and mentally weak. I needed actual food in my stomach, more than just the scrambled brain I had already. I can’t get a handle of what has happened over the past few days, let alone the last twenty four hours. Finding Evan at the front door as he had been only months prior, brought everything back within that single moment. It has brought up the same torturous questions that exploded the day the bomb had been dropped. Recounting the many hours I had spent endlessly going over every word and every memory with a fine toothcomb, until eventually, I couldn’t process anything at all. Now similar questions have risen from their grave and I know I need to uncover those answers.

Why has he come to see me after so long?

What does he want?

Why now....?!

Has he been secretly dating the girl he cheated on me with and maybe that’s ended so he’s come running back?

It’s all so peculiar, so strange.

The timing?

I meet a guy, who I think I like. Well I’m not sure how I really feel yet and besides it’s not going anywhere now as he’s out of the country...

I shake my head to try and steer my thoughts back on track.

But why now?

The image of Evans familiar, loving dark eyes haunting me, flash to the intoxicating intensity of Jays. Flicking from each memory seamlessly. Jay had called like he said he would to let me know he had landed in Los Angeles, which I’m not sure why exactly, but it surprised me. I know he said he would call, but I really didn't expect him to. Surely he has seen enough of my emotional state over the past few days to know how much of a mess I am.

Why would he want to persist with me?

How can I be of any interest to him?

The memory of him telling me that he would call to see if I was alright, quickly rushes to mind. Those sweet swift words exiting his mouth as he no sooner exited my life... forever! I contemplate the fact that I may never see him again and instantly feel ill. I am bruised and battered to a pulp from events that have transpired but for some reason when I was around him, he somehow made me feel like 'me' again.

Of course there was his intensity, the danger and adrenalin I felt in his presence.

The pap drama!

His un-emotive manner.

His un-predictability!

The way I feel about him….

How do I feel about him?

It doesn't really matter! He's gone anyway...

I realise that given the choice, I would want to see him again. I want to feel his foreign touch and the accompanying sensations it brings, as those shivers ripple furiously across my skin. I want to welcome his intense gaze through my soul that strikes me so precisely. He cuts me open and makes me bleed, beautifully.

If that's even possible?

The memories from Rosie's gossip columns, and the news reader - all of it.

He is probably screwing another girl right now Penny.

As if I was any different to him.

Something… more.

Not to mention my emotional state. It wouldn't be fair to even contemplate a new relationship.

Relationship?

Is that what I could even have with him?

No, don't be stupid!

The amount of perplexity buzzing around is too overwhelming that I can't work out any rational answers. I sullenly skulk back to my room, and continue my previous pattern of sleeping away the pain and anguish.

-----------------------------------

After spending a few days in and out of my bed wasting away the entire week almost, I finally find the strength to get up again. Finally, its déjà-vu as I find myself sitting at the kitchen bench, eating a bowl of muesli which fills my stomach all too quickly. It feels like it's been far longer than a week since my day of disaster, yet my body still reels from the aftermath like it was only yesterday. Rosie hasn't left me any notes today so I assume she will be home after work. A thought that immediately has me rolling my eyes at how motherly she will be when she spies me breaking my torturous routine. After finishing my late, very late breakfast, I wander curiously to the foyer table and pick up my phone to see whether she has tried to reach me.

Shit!

Six missed calls.

Jay's number!

Three messages.

Jay:
Finally at home & back in my bed. All alone. I cant wait to hear ur voice

Jay:
Busy day of recording. Will be a long day :( Im thinking of u

Jay:
Have u forgotten about me already? ;) I cant forget about u

My breath hitches. Reading the messages of his kind words has my usual nauseas stomach doing somersaults, but I'm still clouded by self-doubt and uncertainty. I haven't really dealt with the feelings I have for him and I don't even know if I want to keep talking to him. A long distance famous musician / normal suburbanite relationship is complicated in the least.

Extremely complicated!

I just don't think I could deal with that kind of obstacle in my life right now. Despite any feelings I may or may not have for him, I can't go through something less than simple. I need to deal with everything here and then move forward with something far
less
complex. Everything is still so surreal and the fact that Evan has shown up out of the blue just makes everything that much more uncertain.

Evan.

I hadn't thought of him for days. I have been far too occupied trying to sort out my feelings for Jay. I don’t
think
I would ever go back to Evan, not after what he did, but the intrigue surrounding his timed visit is eating me. It raises the original questions I had when he confessed to the affair and what actually took place. So much uncertainty still whizzing around in my mind which has kept me locked away in my tower.

I’m so confused. So… lost.

Picking up my phone I robotically call my mum. I never got the chance to call her after my day out with Jay, and I needed to stop putting it off. It's been ages since I have spoken with her and I really needed to let her know that I was alright. To reassure her.

Or maybe reassure myself?

"Hello?"

"Mum?!" I almost cry out, as the sound of her washes over me.

"Penny! It’s so lovely to hear your voice!"

The cosy sound of mum is comforting in more ways than one. A comfort that’s been lost these past few months. Rosie had kept her in the loop a few times basically letting her know I was still alive; still coping. As long as she heard my voice, even for a moment in its smallest measurement, was enough for her peace of mind.

Our conversation flowed freely and easily. We talked for hours about her work and how dad is doing after his back surgery; an old cricket injury that he had put up with throughout his thirties and forties, until he finally agreed to get it fixed. She made some dirty joke about him being on his back in the bedroom, which made me laugh with horror. But the mere fact I could manage a laugh after everything, was fulfilling in so many ways that the freedom I had noticed a few days ago, was suddenly reappearing.

Despite the length of time on the phone, she not once mentions Evan. I know inside she would be dying to know what happened, especially since Rosie and I were always so limited with details surrounding our ending. After a decade together he was so entwined in my life. My family was his family and my parents simply adored him; I could never bring myself to fill them entirely in on our demise. With my father being a keen sports fan and Evan being the natural athlete, they were honestly a match made in heaven. For a guy that on the outside would have most teenage parents nervous about him spending time with their daughter – they never once faulted. Like me, they always loved him. They trusted him, so wholly, that I never wanted them to feel the death of our loved one to the painful extent that I had. I swallow away the memories and before I even know it, I slip out his name.

"Evan came over a few days ago mum."

There is a silence on the other end before she continues delicately.

"What did he have to say?"

"Nothing really,” I shrug. “I mean, I didn't really let him speak. I didn't want to talk to him," I explain, more easily than I would have thought.

"Penny, maybe he wanted to provide some answers for you," my mum reasons with me.

Did he?

"I don't know..." I trail off before adding, "He said he misses me."

She pauses momentarily.

"Penny, maybe you need to talk things through with him. You need to hear what he has to say if you have any chance of letting it all go. Of finally moving on in whatever direction you want to go."

"Maybe you’re right," I begin to rationalise, but I can’t help but feel caught up in my thoughts.

"But why now Mum? I just don't get it!"

"Ah Penny men are complicated creatures," she laughs softly, chuckling away at a private joke or her years of experience with the opposite sex.

"Besides," she continues. "Does it really matter why it’s now? Evan was a part of your life for so long honey. You both grew together and fell in love from such an early age. That kind of attachment needs some kind of reasoning, some kind of closure. It’s the only way you are going to be able to put everything to rest dear."

She’s right.

A light bulb pops up almost cartoon-like inside my brain. I need to know what he wants to disclose in order to put it all behind me. To try understand, and perhaps, to finally forgive him. I haven't seen him since we broke up and after so many years together I need some kind of explanation. I can't break down every time I think of him or another man. I will always be right
here
if I don't try.

"Mum, it was really, really nice to talk to you!" I exclaim with meaning, an intricate tear forming in my eye.

"Oh Penny, my sweet, please call me again soon! I miss you."

"Me too Mum."

The relief I feel after speaking with mum is obvious. Another weight has been lifted off my heavily burdened and guilty shoulders. The words coming from my mother's mouth, so reassuring and understanding, I finally feel like I have bearing and purpose.

I stifle my hands through the masses of paperwork on the foyer table, searching for something that has Evans number on it. Anything. I was more motivated than ever to talk to him and to hear what he had to say. Still too fragile to face him in person, over the phone seemed do-able. Sifting through the mountains of papers I am interrupted by my phone ringing and as I peek down at the screen, I see it’s a familiar number.

Jay.

I roll my eyes.

Just as I am focused on Evan, Jay calls!

Why is this happening?

Is the universe trying to send me crazy?

Taking a deep breath I anxiously answer the call.

"Hello?"

"Penelope," he sighs with relief. "Are you okay?"

His voice sounds concerned and far more open than I remember, although it's been almost a week since I've spoken to him.

"Sorry, I have, umm, been a little preoccupied. I'm fine," I answer honestly.

He is silent for a moment.

"So you
are
alright?" he asks tentatively.

I force a smile across my lips.

"Yes, I'm okay," I lie, although after speaking to mum it’s almost true. "How's LA?" I ask, blatantly changing the topic.

"It’s fine. I've been pretty busy in and out of the studio this past week," he starts. "I've tried calling you."

Shit!

How am I going to explain this?

I'm not telling him I've been in my depressive state all week sleeping. He’ll think I need to be shipped off to the white coat people.

"Sorry, I ah, misplaced my phone."

LIAR!

"I got your messages," I quickly add, hoping he would buy my lame attempt at an explanation; as I couldn't explain further without sounding like a complete fool.

"You read my messages?" 

My thoughts flash to the sweet honesty I had read only a few hours ago before I called mum. Words about how he was thinking of me loop over and over, stumping me with what to say in response.

"Umm, yes I read them," I start cautiously, not knowing where to end the sentence. "I was just about to reply," I scramble.

Oh my God. Is he buying it?

I feel like I hear a smile come over his usual stony expression - if that’s even possible.

"Well I apologise for interrupting you then," he answers, still with that hint of a grin across him and making the little gymnast in my belly continue her excited tumbles.

Playful Jay is kind of cute.

"So what are your plans this weekend?" I ask desperate to change the subject from anything uneasy.