57
The bed is empty when I wake next, and sunlight is streaming through a small gap in the curtains. Dragging my tired body out of bed, I pee, brush my teeth, and take a quick shower before changing into a purple, pink, and white full-length summer dress. Slipping my feet into my low-heeled silver sandals, I grab a light, white cardigan and head downstairs.
Ro, Conor, and their girlfriends are in the kitchen, and Ash is standing over the stove flipping bacon. “Where’s everyone else?” I ask.
“Jay is sleeping off his hangover,” Ash supplies, looking at me over her shoulder.
“Cat and the dick left, thank fuck.” Ro’s eyes roam quickly over my dress. “You look pretty today.” Hurt flickers across his girlfriend’s face, and I don’t blame her. I don’t think Ro meant it intentionally, but he should think before he speaks. If Dillon were here, he’d probably punch him for that comment.
“Um, thanks.” I shuffle awkwardly on my feet. “Where’s Dillon?”
“He’s outside.” Conor jerks his head at the sliding double doors.
“I just made a fresh pot of tea if you want some?” Ash says, as I move to the kettle to make some coffee.
“You know me, girl. I need my caffeine fix first.” I make two mugs of coffee and wander outside to find my boyfriend.
Dillon is out on the deck sitting on one of the wicker lounge chairs, leaning forward with his shoulders stooped and head cradled in his hands.
“Hey.” I take the seat alongside him, setting the mugs on the ground. Gently, I place my hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Slowly, he lifts his head. “I’m fine,” he says without looking at me, staring straight ahead.
“Dillon. Please look at me.”
He turns his head, and my heart aches at the tormented look on his face. His eyes are bloodshot, the layer of stubble on his face is thicker than normal, and he looks pale.
“What is it? What’s troubling you?”
“I’d have thought that was obvious, Viv,” he softly says.
I nod, wetting my dry lips. Handing him a coffee, I take a sip of mine. “Are we going to talk about it?”
“What’s the point?” He cups his large hands around the mug, and I rest my head on his shoulder.
“I hate this.”
“Me too.” He threads his fingers in mine, and we drink our coffee in silence, staring out at the ocean in the distance.
“You said some stuff last night,” I say, when we put our mugs down. Panic skips across his face, and his back stiffens. “You don’t remember?”
He shakes his head. “What did I say?”
“That you had something to tell me but you were scared.”
“That’s all I said?” he asks, staring me straight in the eye.
“You mumbled some other stuff that didn’t make sense.” I want to tell him he told me he loved me twice, but I know he won’t want to hear that, and I can’t have that conversation. Yet I am curious as to what secret he was going to divulge.
“It’s nothing.” Pulling his hand from mine, he stands. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I just need a little space right now.”
It’s hard not to feel hurt by that, but I nod.
“I’m going for a walk. I’ll talk to you later.”
I watch him walk off until his form is just a speck in the distance. My heart throbs painfully the entire time.
* * *