I Belong With . . . (Book 2)

Chapter Three / Blast From The Past

Chris didn’t make much small talk as he drove. His eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, narrowed in the darkness, but with a passing street light illuminating his tanned features, I was sure I noticed a shiny glint to them. 

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked, cutting the silence, unable to take it anymore. This wasn’t like him; it wasn’t like us. 

“What?” He mumbled, confused for a moment, his eyes widening as he shook his head. 

“What’s the plan for damage control?” I asked again, my eyes focusing on the windshield, bracing myself for the humiliating suggestions of action plans. But instead, his hand tightened around the steering wheel while the other rubbed nervously on his thigh as that same weak smile from the plane crept across his lips. 

“There isn’t one.” He said a little too quickly. “But you don’t need to worry about that anyway.” 

“Really?” I don’t know why it came out, but before I knew it, the uncertain whisper left my lips as my eyes rested on Chris. He took another glance at me from the corner of his eyes before clearing his throat again.

“Really. Jose’s handling the media, and I- ‘ll address it when he thinks it’s time. Right now, we’d just be adding fuel to the fire.” He added, taking a turn into mountains. Out of all the places we’d travelled to, this was my favourite. It was so isolated yet so open. The trees hid us just right in their shadows, and the mountain peaks gave us enough of a viewpoint to make the world below us feel like it was ours. There really wasn’t another place like it; it was the only house for miles. 

Chris bought the vila as soon as I agreed to marry him, or more so the land. We never really got to finish the place before everything happened. I know he never finished the work. Construction stopped and never resumed mainly because we never thought this place, in the end, would become a safe haven, not after it became a nightmare.

“We should probably finish the house now that. . .that we’ll be spending more time here,” I whispered, changing the topic. He didn’t reply at first. Instead, he gave a tight, slight nod. “Are the rooms fini-“

“One of the master bedrooms, kitchen and outside areas are completed, the gym half done, and the garage is too, just without the doors.” huh, I thought we’d gotten further. 

Another twenty minutes and Chris finally pulled out from the narrow winding roads into the open air, following the gravelled ground towards the sizeable white fence that automatically swung open as we approached. 

Sat in the middle on the peak of the mountain was what was supposed to be our home.

It was apparent which part of the house was done. The left side stood glistening under the lights shinning around the patio, and the ceiling left flat as construction was meant to continue to the second and third floors. The right side of the house was enclosed in scaffolding, with the garage just peering out behind. Yet the front yard was decorated with fruit trees, and neatly placed benches around the extravagant angel carved out of stone in the fountain waiting to be turned on. 

We stepped out, and I took slow steps towards the white pebbles leading the way towards the unpainted blank door. The wood creaked slightly as I stepped up the porch and stood outside the double windows giving a hint of the brand new marble kitchen. The air smelt like crisp wood, yet the smell of cement and paint did an excellent job at pushing it away.

The last time I imagined walking up here was supposed to be after we said I do. It was supposed to be me wrapped up in Chris’s arms as we stumbled drunk from our honeymoon up these steps and fumbled around in our pockets trying to find the keys. We were supposed to step in and not give a crap about what it looked like cause all we cared about was making it to the bedroom without losing a limb. We were supposed to be so wrapped up in us that this house would be enough to contain it. 

But that’s not how it happened. Hell, it was the complete opposite. 

This house represented the worst in us, and I guess it would continue to do so.

Once I used to think this place represented the strength in us. Now. . . I prayed it would hide the weakness in us. 

“Are you okay?” Chris asked a little wearily, and honestly, it was the furthest thing away from what I was feeling. Sometimes it felt like I would never be okay, yet that fleeting memory of that warm white smile and tanned olive skin greeting us here before sent a small smile to my lips. 

I nodded and waited as Chris opened the door. The minute we stepped into the dark marble house was when that voice I tried so hard to quiet down that year came marching back into my head. 

He was right. Julian was right. 

No. 

No, he wasn’t. 

We were here, and we’re together. This? This is just a rough patch. . . We’ll make it through . . .

Slowly the lights flickered on, illuminating the half-built stairs in front of us and the dust speckled white marble floors. The narrow hallway leading to the back past the stairs led to our bedroom, and the gaping archway to the right was the kitchen. I barely remember what any of it looked like, and somehow this time, all those erratic happy moments from before that I felt when this place held the promise of our future seemed to have transformed into something I wasn’t too sure I understood. All I know was that my skin seemed to turn three degrees colder, and my stomach tightened as my throat went dry. I could feel my heart trash against my chest as my palms clamped up. 

No. 

This would fix us. Jose would deal with the media, and we’d deal with us. 

“I have to make a call; I’ll be right back.” He mumbled as he placed our bags by the large king-sized mattress. We didn’t even have sheets. 

“Oh. . . Okay. . .” I managed to breathe, a little confused as he rushed our closing the door behind him. I can’t remember the last time he had to leave the room to make a call. Not that anything was wrong with wanting some privacy just that well. . . It wasn’t like him. 

Then again, nothing that was happening was anything like us. 

I reached for the bag and began piling our clothes away in the draws and walk-in wardrobe. The large towering windows opposite the side of the bed were letting the moonlight spilling into the room, exposing the modern light wooden decor. Chris had designed it all; it turns out he had a fantastic eye for interior design! 

Almost forty minutes had passed, and I’d already taken a shower, dried off and slipped into my red checkered shorts and a baggy blacktop that had seen better days. The neckline was ripped, forcing the top to hang from one shoulder and droop down the other, exposing a little of my bra. 

What the hell was he talking about that was taking this long?!

My stomach had begun to churn, and surprisingly I found myself hungry. I didn’t think I’d find appetite again after those photos, but I wasn’t about to let the opportunity go. So I took it as my cue to go grab Chris or at least find out what he wanted to order. 

I ducked my head into the kitchen only to be met with complete darkness. The gym, maybe? That was usually his favourite place, but as the yellow flickered on, I was met with nothing but a couple of equipment gears still in their packing and mirrors that had brown dirt all over them. Even the ground hadn’t been properly cemented yet. 

That would leave the garage, and the garden, and the chances of him being outside eaten alive by mosquitos were slim to none. Hurrying out towards the garden, I could hear his muffled voice already. I probably should have picked the gym considering the garage had no doors. 

I edged up towards the wall and stood by the side just off from the entrance as my fingers pressed against the dust cement walls. “I just don’t understand how that is the last resort.”

I pressed my chest harder against the wall, not caring that dust would be an obvious giveaway. 

“No. I’ll do it. Just give us a few weeks -“ whoever was taking on the other end didn’t give him the time to finish before Chris was sudden exploding down the phone. “I’ve said I’ll do it! Back the f**k off, it’s not your place to tell her! I’ll do it, but I’ll do it on my terms and the right way.” 

Do what?

“Well, if my career is over by then, guess I won’t have to do shit.” Again silence as he listened before replying again, this time far calmer. “It is what it is, Jose. You just focus on silencing those photos, and I’ll concentrate on b-“

The loud sound of the doorbell caught us both off guard as Chris’s voice instantly came to a stop, and my body had seemed to do a complete 360 against the wall until my back was pressed so hard up against it, it looked like I was trying to climb the goddamn thing!

Who the f**k would be knocking at this time of night?! Who even knew we were here?!

Without wasting another second, I pushed myself from the wall and practically ran around to the front coming to a slow walk as I noticed the shadow figure on our porch. 

“Excuse me?” I mumbled, stepping up onto the first wooden step. 

He spun around, and I felt the air rush from my lungs. His brown eyes throwing me completely. His hair had darkened a little over the years, the roots almost down with the tips of a sun-bleached blonde hovering over his eyes and his skin a perfect brown crisp from all the Spanish sun. It took me maybe a moment to recognise who the hell was standing at our door until he gave me that sheepish smile as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair. 

“Hey, Fay,” 

“Jed? What the hell are you doing here?!” I almost yelled, finally feeling the colour come back to my face as I hurried up the past couple of steps. I hadn’t seen him since I left his house the night it went all wrong at my parents after our first trip to Spain. Hell, Chris hadn’t exactly gotten along with him with all the jealously but . . . It had been so long! I didn’t even think he remembers me. 

That was until the next heart attack hit. 

Jed opened his mouth, ready to reply before a car door silenced him. I turned again and squinted at the light as the person walked over to the front of their car and took a few steady steps forwards. 

His black cow boots created a light jingle in the air with his dark blue jeans tucked into them and his white shirt half-open. It was when those pearly whites came into view, and those glistening green eyes smiled up at me, that I felt my heart thrash harder. Except for this time, I backed away, feeling my skin burn with embarrassment. They know. 

There’s no way they wouldn’t. I was plastered everywhere and attached to Chris’s name . . . It would be insane if they didn’t. 

I couldn’t help the red starting to stain my skin as I swallowed the bile slowly forming on my throat down. 

“It’s been a long time, princesa.” His thick Spanish accent was almost enough to beg me to have the ground open up and eat me whole. Somehow it felt different being called a princess by him. Anyone else, and it pissed me off but him? He had the pass. “I heard you landed in a bit of mierda; everyone is worried.”

“H-how did you find us?” How the f**k do you two know each other?! 

“It was easy-“

“Julian.” Chris’s tight voice sounded off the side as he came towards us, pausing in the middle of us. Slowly his eyes fled to me and to my top with an eyebrow arched before falling on Jed.

Instantly his face broke into a frown, and the annoyance was evident. “I told you to come tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, well, Zara’s a little impatient.”

“Zara?” I asked, looking back at Jed. That’s what I get for ignoring her calls. “Wait, you invited them?!”

“You weren’t answering your family’s calls, and your sister was at the point of drowning herself; that one was the easiest solution considering he lives nearby. But that one,” Chris muttered, nodding his head towards Julian. “I did not invite. Really, dude, you had to bring him?”

“There was no way I was getting past the security guards without someone rolling in dough. How the hell was I supposed to know you-“

“Wait!” I snapped again, this time with my hands up and my eyes closed. “How do you even know him?”

“Nicky. Does my cousin remember? Put us in touch.” Julian answered as my eyes fell back to him and my lips fell shut. 

I could feel the way his eyes drank me in but not in the way that made me feel dirty. His eyes never left mine, he never smirked like he’d seen something he hadn’t, he just stood there grinning up at me like he never thought he’d see me again, and I could feel the tension radiating from Chris at both of them standing there. 

“They just wanna know you’re okay,” Jed whispered, pressing his hand against my shoulder. The way his voice dipped with sympathy had me shivering away from him as my arms wrapped around my chest and my eyes fell for the floor. 

“Fine. I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem so, Princesa,” Julian added, but I couldn’t look at them, not now I know why they’re here. When would this stop? When will I be able to feel like I can f*****g look at people?!

When will the self-hatred f*****g die? 

 “The names Fay, not Princesa,” Chris muttered, but it went over our heads. Just his voice alone was enough to send an electric surge of anger down my spine. 

I couldn’t look at Chris now, but it wasn’t for the same reason. How could he bring them here and not tell me? All these decisions, all these secrets, it was too much. How could he do that? He must know what all of this is doing to me. . . He must, and yet he didn’t give a rats ass about my feelings.

I needed time, and he took that from me. He threw me headfirst into a watery bucket of embarrassment and shame and having to face the two people I didn’t think I’d ever had to. 

“It was your choice to bring Jed here, don’t complain about who he brings with him. You shouldn’t have done any of it without telling me. But I guess that’s the way it is now, doing everything behind my back. Nice to know.”

With that, I walked off back inside, leaving all three of them outside as I hurried towards the bedroom, throwing myself under the covers and feeling the tears burn their way down my cheek. 

Authors note: Writing here because the note limit is too short. Okie dokie - So I’m back and with a little routine that hopefully will keep uploads consistent. Basically, I have about three stories on the go which means I will be uploading three times a week. Coveted is almost done with only four chapters to go. So within a month, that story will be completed, and this story will be bumped up to two uploads a week. I know, more is better, but I don’t want to A. be throwing crap out there just for the sake of flooding with uploads and B. I want actually to improve the consistency of these uploads, and this seems like the most manageable way at the moment. I completely understand if this is a tad annoying, but its the best way for now, at least it means there will be reading material weekly xx