Fighting to be Free by Kirsty Moseley (52 page)

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The hoodie didn’t help much. I still felt empty inside, tears were just making my eyes prickle the whole time I waited and spent the last of the time with my family. Stacey came over too, she was crying all over me which didn’t help my jangled nerves in the slightest. I still hadn’t told anyone which was a feat in itself. The truth was bursting to come out of me, I wanted to confide in Stacey and have her tell me it was okay, but I couldn’t do that because I was still waiting to hear from Jamie.

My cellphone went off a couple of times, each time my heart would leap into my throat as I immediately thought it was him, only to be disappointed when it was friends calling or texting to wish me a good time.

When it was finally time to leave and the cab driver had loaded all of my cases into the trunk, I stood on my front lawn bidding a teary farewell to my family and Stacey. I’d told them that something had come up with Jamie’s family and that he was meeting me at the airport instead of picking me up. Again they bought the lie - they obviously had no reason to doubt me or him. As we hugged, my mom lost her battle against the dust that was in her eye, and all out sobbed, begging me to write often and call. I swallowed, trying to remain in control, trying not to think about the fact that if Jamie didn’t turn up at the airport I’d be hailing a cab home again in a couple of hours. My goodbyes were shadowed with grief as in the back of my mind all I could think about was him and the last words he’d said to me on the phone.

After I’d hugged everyone a billion times and made watery promises to call as soon as we landed, I finally got to climb into the solitude of the cab. As the driver sped us away from the house I didn’t look back, instead I pulled out the tickets that I had in my hand luggage and looked at the names that were printed on them. I smiled weakly at Jamie’s one silently praying that we got our happy ending.

“So where you off to?” the driver asked.

I looked up to see he was smiling at me politely in the rear-view mirror. “Um…. All over really.

Rome first, but my boyfriend and I are planning on backpacking around for a bit,” I replied. I noticed how my voice trembled on the word boyfriend and I prayed he didn’t notice.

He raised one eyebrow and nodded. “Sounds great. I went to Rome once….” I tuned out as he started telling me about all the sights that I needed to see when we got there. I nodded along, pretending to listen as he drove. Thankfully he was one of those cabbies that rambled on and on with no real interaction needed from me, so I’d gotten away with not really listening to him.

When we pulled up outside the airport I dug in my purse and paid the fare before pushing open the door and stepping out. Dread washed over me as I looked at the bustle of the busy airport. People were walking in and out in a constant stream but I couldn’t really see their faces as I looked.

Nothing seemed to matter to me apart from the fact that none of them were Jamie. Something bumped my leg so I snapped out of my daydream and looked around to see that the cab driver had got me a cart and had already loaded my luggage on for me.

I smiled gratefully as a wave of loneliness washed over me. I’d never been to this kind of place alone before, I had no idea where to go or what I had to do. “Thanks.”

He nodded. “No problem. Have a great time, and remember what I said about the Colosseum,” he called as he headed back around to his side of the cab. I nodded in agreement but actually had no idea what he’d said about it at all.

After standing on the curb for a couple of seconds plucking up the courage, I lifted my chin, gripped the handles and pushed the luggage cart into the airport. Jamie would turn up, I knew he would. He was an incredible person and he’d give me a second shot, I was sure of it.

As I walked in I was a little taken aback by the shear vastness of the airport. The place was huge and I had no idea how Jamie would even find me when he did come in. I decided to stay fairly close to the entrance just in case. I manoeuvred myself over to the side, taking a seat on one of the hard metal chairs, discreetly checking the monitors to see that our flight was still on time and that we had to check in at gate C. My eyes scanned everywhere. Every time I saw a guy walk past that had brown hair my heart took off in overdrive, only to be disappointed over and over again. I chewed on my lip as a middle-aged couple sat down in the empty seats next to me; both of them were grinning and laughing, obviously happy to be going on vacation. Their happy smiled made me die a little inside while I was waiting there for a guy who might not even turn up.

I could imagine the look on my parents faces when I turned up home again today, I could practically hear the sympathetic words of support that would mean nothing because of the heartbreak I’d be feeling.

After twenty minutes my heart sank when they appealed over the loudspeaker for people on our flight to go to the check in desks. Realisation suddenly washed over me, it was like someone dumped a bucket of cold water in my face. He wasn’t coming. I’d built my hopes up, planned my life with him, I’d sat here totally expecting him to turn up…. and he wasn’t going to. I was a fool, a complete heartbroken fool.

I put my head in my hands, bent forward and sobbed like I had never sobbed before. It was over, just like he said. I was alone. I’d blown it, my one chance with the adorable, beautiful boy and I’d completely blown it because I hadn’t trusted him. I deserved this, I deserved to be alone.

Everything else seemed to fade away as I cried and cried. No one offered me support - or if they did I didn’t hear them through the sound of my grief that was crashing in my ears. I gripped my hands in my hair welcoming the sharp pain in my scalp so that I could try and focus. I needed my mom, I’d never had that thought before in my life, but I needed her now.

I sniffed loudly, swiping roughly at my face, drying my tears. I gulped as people around me looked at me with a mixture of sympathy and nervousness. I guess my sudden outpouring of tears scared them or something; I couldn’t bring myself to care. His words on the phone earlier were replaying over and over in my head,
“I don’t love you enough to give up my life for you.”
Why had I let myself hope that he would come? Why had I pretended to everyone this morning and carried this pain around on my own? Why had I fallen so in love with him that it felt like my world was crashing down around me right now? It was like I’d fallen into darkness, a dark ugly place that I didn’t want to be in but had no way of escaping. It felt like a weight pushed down on my chest making it hard to draw breath as the devastation and hurt just kept building and building the more I thought about it.

Home. I needed to go home. Just as I gripped the handles of the cart, ready to stand and go hail a cab so I could cry to my mom, a hand touched my shoulder.

“Ellie?”

I whimpered and closed my eyes as the smile tugged at the corner of my mouth because he’d turned up after all. Relief washed over me making me sag in my seat and my skin to prickle as my heart fluttered erratically. I took a deep breath and turned in my seat, the stress and tension leaving my body because him being here obviously meant that I got another shot. A second chance, and there was no way I was wasting it. Jamie and I were meant to be together, and I’d prove that to him. I silently vowed to never doubt him again.

The sun was streaming through the windows as I slowly started to drift into consciousness. I squeezed my eyes shut at the brightness of it, moaning as I rolled over and buried my face into the pillows. I felt sweaty and sticky all over because of the humidity in the room last night. Even though I was only wearing panties and a tank top, I was still uncomfortably hot. Luckily I’d been drunk when I fell into bed last night; otherwise I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t have been able to get to sleep because the air con in the room was broken. The balcony doors were open where I was trying to let out some of the stuffiness and let in some of the fresh morning air, but nothing really helped. This place was a dive and not somewhere where I pictured staying more than a couple of nights. We were only staying here one more night before moving on to Venice tomorrow.

I huffed out a big breath and pushed myself up, already hearing the sounds of the shower running which explained the empty bed and the lack of soft snoring in my ear. My mouth felt a little fuzzy because of the alcohol I’d ingested last night - damn these Italian bars and their happy hour shots!

My head wasn’t hurting though which I was seriously grateful for. When my feet touched the cool tiles of the floor and closed my eyes and sighed before grabbing the bottle of water from the side and forcing myself to get out of the bed and start the day.

My gaze settled on the open doors and the little balcony with the white plastic chairs that were set out there. Needing fresh air I stalked out there taking in lungful’s of it, trying to stave off the hangover that was fighting to take over. Closing my eyes I basked in the sun’s rays as instantly started warming my skin. Even though the hotel we booked was cheap and nasty, I really liked this city so it wasn’t my idea to leave yet, but I guess I had to go with it and move on to somewhere else. Maybe I’d get to come back here one day. I opened my eyes and leant on the metal rails, squinting and looking over Florence as it started to wake up and get a little busier.

I smiled as I watched a boat row up the river and a lady hung out her washing on the line, shouting at her kids in Italian. Florence was much nicer than Rome in my opinion; it was calmer, more chilled and not as busy. Suddenly the smell of coffee wafted over from one of the quaint little cafés that were hidden in the back streets. My mouth was instantly watering at the thought of tall latte with extra foam. The water that I’d already chugged wasn’t really relieving my thirst, so I decided I’d just nip out and get one. I headed back into the room, still hearing sounds of the shower as I threw on a pair of denim shorts and a pink fitted t-shirt. I scribbled a note that I was down in the square and left it on the bedside unit as I grabbed my purse and left the room on a coffee hunt.

The last three weeks of travelling had made me a little grungy. I didn’t think twice about the fact that I hadn’t showered or brushed my teeth yet; I’d just do it later on when I went back to the room.

No one would know anyway so why should I care? If my mom could see me now, she’d probably have a heart attack. I pulled my hair back into a messy bun, securing it with the band that I had wrapped around my wrist next to the bracelet that Jamie had given me for my birthday.

I weaved the familiar path to get to my desired destination, the Piazza della Signoria. The square was fairly busy even though a quick glance at the clock on the expansive building told me it wasn’t even ten a.m. I smiled to myself and walked across the huge square, letting my eyes rake over the statues that they had dotted around. I stopped next to the copy of Michelangelo’s David and cocked my head to the side as my eyes wandered over it. I had seen this lots of times already because we’d come to this square everyday of the last week for coffee, but still, the beauty of this statue never ceased to amaze me.

My stomach gave a little squeeze as I could hear people chattering and laughing off to one side in the café that I just loved to death because they did the most incredible pastries. Taking one last look at the statue I turned and headed to my desired destination, it was fairly busy already but I managed to grab the last outside table. I smiled as I sat down under the shade of the umbrella; it still had a perfect view of the square. Why people would choose to sit inside when they had this beautiful view was beyond me.

The waitress came over immediately taking my coffee and pastry order, then I sat back in my chair and relaxed as I watched the people walk past going to work, or the tourists as they cooed over everything and took pictures.

“Mi scusi.” I turned to see a kind faced older lady smiling warmly at me. “É libero questo posto?”

I winced, smiling apologetically because I had no idea what she said. “I’m sorry, I don’t…. um…. Non parlo italiano?” I prayed that was right because as beautiful as the Italian language sounded to me, all I knew how to say was no thank you, where are the bathrooms and how much. That was as far as my knowledge went.

She laughed and nodded. “Ah, you are American, si?”

I grinned. “Si,” I confirmed.

She motioned towards the chair opposite me. “May I sit with you?” she asked in English, her voice thick with accent.

“Oh! Of course!” I agreed, blushing because of course that’s what she was asking me. Now I felt stupid for not understanding.

She smiled gratefully and pulled out the chair, sitting down. “It is too hot to sit inside, no?”

I nodded in agreement, leaning back as the waitress brought my coffee and cake and set them on the table in front of me. The lady at my table smiled and placed her order as I stirred in my sugar already wishing it would cool so I could drink it.

“So, you are alone in Florence?”

My head snapped up at her question. How do I answer that? I shrugged, trying not to think about it.

“Sort of.” Was the only thing I could think of to say. She looked at me curiously, obviously waiting for me to continue and explain, but I didn’t want to, it was too hard to say out loud, it was too painful to even think about it so I tried my hardest to block it out altogether.

“A bella ragazza like you should not be alone,” she stated, smiling at me curiously.

I smiled weakly but turned my attention back to people watching in the square so that she wouldn’t continue to talk to me. I no longer wanted the cake, and even the coffee had lost its appeal. My mind wandered to Jamie even though I had forbidden myself to even think of his name. I gulped as my chest tightened and my breathing came out a little shallow as raw emotion started to build up inside me. I tried not to think about him. That day was still so fresh in my mind that the pain of having my hopes dashed time and time again made my heart ache, even after three weeks.