In a Heartbeat (Heartbeat #1) (27 page)

Gia was looking at her with pure horror written on her face, but she pursed her lips and, without saying another word, slipped her arm under Stella’s shoulders and helped her to her feet.

Stella was thankful, not only because Gia didn’t ask any more questions but also because she brought her home, tucked her into bed and left. It wasn’t long before she fell asleep and forgot all about the real world.

*

Max’s phone rang as he was heading for the bar.

“Yeah,” he said as he picked up, seeing his sister’s name on the screen.

“What the hell did you do to her, Max?” She sounded really pissed off. Not that it was hard to make her mad – Gia’s fuse was only about an inch long – but still, she rarely shouted at
him
anymore.

I guess guilt does that to people.

“Who’s ‘her’?”

“Stella!” Immediately, he tensed.

“I haven’t seen her in a week; I haven’t done anything to her. Is she OK?”

“No! I found her sitting on the street behind the restaurant, confused, her face all puffy and her eyes red from crying.”

Max was clutching the phone so hard his knuckles went white. He didn’t know what to think. Was he the reason Stella was crying in the middle of the street? Even if he wasn’t, that didn’t make it any better.

Why? She was very good at maintaining her composure and control; what could have happened to make her lose it?

“Max? Still there?” Gia’s voice brought him back to the call.

“Yeah. Where are you now?”

“I took her to Lisa’s and tucked her into bed. I’m going home now.”

“Why did you assume I had something to do with this?”

“Oh come on, Max. We’ve all seen how you look at each other and wished you’d get a hotel room for the weekend and get it over with already. This is getting ridiculous. I can’t deal with your shit right now – I’ve got a ton of my own.”

She hung up on him and he felt like slamming the phone into the pavement. This was so typical of Gia – caring about her own problems without looking around and even considering helping someone else with theirs. As much as he loved her, Max had to admit that his sister was a selfish bitch.

What was he supposed to do now? Stella was safely at home, so he didn’t need to worry about her – right? It had almost killed him to keep his distance all week and if he gave in now and went to her, there would be no going back. He had reached the point of no return.

He hadn’t slept properly all week. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her kissing Rico. Max buried himself in work, taking overlapping shifts at the beach and at the bar. At this point he was so exhausted he was functioning on autopilot – and still he couldn’t sleep.

That girl had ruined his life. He had fallen in love with her fast and hard. Stella had stormed into his perfectly normal life and scrambled it until he didn’t know what was worth fighting for anymore. All his dreams and ambitions featured her now. Every time he imagined his future life, he saw her in it, and every time that happened he had to remind himself that she didn’t want to be imagined there. She didn’t want
him
, not for the long run.

When in fact, Stella was
all
he wanted.

*

Lisa knocked on her door when she came back from the gallery. Stella didn’t want to tell her about what had happened today, so she just pretended she was feeling very tired and wanted to get an early night. In fact, she hadn’t left the bed since Gia brought her home and she didn’t feel like getting up at least until morning.

Lisa understood and left her alone.

It was Saturday. Eight days since Stella had last seen or talked to Max. If eight days felt like an eternity, how was she supposed to survive the next six weeks?

Determination flooded her veins and mixed with her blood. Swinging her legs off the bed, Stella took a shower, blow-dried her hair, put on some make-up to cover the effects of yesterday’s melt-down, got dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that had a bat on it saying: ‘I’m not a morning person’ and went downstairs to the kitchen. Niki must have left for work because it was 10 a.m., and Lisa was alone, making coffee.

“Oh, hey, you feeling better?” she asked, noticing Stella coming into the kitchen.

“Yeah. I haven’t been sleeping well recently. I just needed to catch up on sleep.”

They drank coffee and had breakfast before Stella gathered the courage to ask Lisa about Max.

“So, Max is strangely absent this week. You know why?” she asked as casually as possible.

“I texted him a couple of days ago; he said he was busy working double shifts, because he wanted to take some days off next month.”

That sounded plausible, yet unconvincing. Was he hiding the true reason from Lisa?

“I’m surprised you didn’t know. Are you guys OK?” Lisa asked, her expression carefully concealed.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. So, what are we doing today?” Stella asked, desperate to lead the conversation in another direction. Lisa wasn’t so easily fooled, but she decided to let it go and didn’t ask any more questions.

“There’s this exhibition at
Masala Stefania
art gallery that I really wanted to see. Wanna come?”

“Sure.”

They went to the exhibition, but Stella couldn’t concentrate on any of the paintings. She followed Lisa around, half listening to her comments, half deep in thought.

Had Gia told Max how she’d found her yesterday? If she had, why hadn’t he called to check on her? Why was he suddenly so disinterested in her? What was she missing?

And most importantly, how could she get him back?

*

It took a lot of effort not to call Stella after what Gia had told him. Not just because he was in love with her and she woke all his protective instincts, but also because it would have been the decent thing to do, even if they were just friends.

He was sick and tired of thinking about her. It had to stop, at least for the night.

Max dialled Beppe’s number.

“Hey, man, any plans for tonight?” he asked.

“No, not yet. Why? Are you proposing something?” Beppe’s voice immediately took a devilish edge.

“Yeah: let’s get wasted and hook up with some girls.”

“I like how that sounds. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

Chapter Twenty Two

Lisa wanted to go out on Saturday night, but Stella claimed to be exhausted from their walk around town all day and declined. Her cousin asked if she minded if she went out without her, and of course Stella said she didn’t.

Gia came to pick her up about an hour later. She looked at Stella, sizing her up, checking whether she’d recovered from the crying-in-the-middle-of-the-street incident. Plastering a smile on her face, Stella gave the impression that she was absolutely fine, just a little tired. While they waited for Lisa to get ready, Stella told her all about the exhibition they’d seen that day, and her happy attitude towards life seemed to convince Gia that she was indeed fine.

After they had left, Stella’s carefully sustained facade crumbled. Tears sprang to her eyes and she didn’t know exactly why. Something inside her broke. It was as if she had been holding back for so long that she couldn’t support her artificial walls anymore.

She ran to her room and closed the door behind her, sliding onto the floor and crying until she had no tears left.

When she had calmed down, she took a shower and went to bed. Her eyes were dry, but her chest was still heavy. Usually she felt better after she’d let all the tears flow, but not this time. Digging deep inside her to discover the reason for her heavy heart, for the first time she was able to admit to herself something she’d known all along, but didn’t want to own up to.

She was in love with Max.

But she had lost him in her stubborn desire to protect both of their hearts. How could she love someone when she didn’t know if she’d live long enough to have a real life with them? What if when she got back to London the doctors told her that her cancer was back? Or that it had spread to other organs, to her blood? What would she tell Max?

Maybe it was better to let go now when it was still possible.

It was too damn hard, though.

In her desperation Stella did something she’d never done before, not even when she had found out about the cancer. Back then she’d had her mum and the doctors and had felt that someone was looking out for her, protecting her, praying for her. Now she had no one who could tell her what to do.

She closed her eyes and imagined Eric and her dad watching over her when she spoke,

“Dad, Eric ... I don’t know if you guys can hear me,” she began, her voice a whisper. “But I need you. I need your guidance. I feel so lost, so alone.” She closed her eyes as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I miss you both so much. I’m sorry that I’ve never talked to you before but ... it’s hard. You’re gone and I ... Mum and I, we were left behind and we got lost somewhere along the way. We existed but didn’t live. For the first time in my life since then, I feel like I want to live. I want to have a future, a family. And for the first time in my life I have a reason to live. I have someone who makes me happy and who makes me imagine a long life ahead of me. But I guess I should say ‘had’, not ‘have’, because I’ve pushed him away too many times and he doesn’t want me anymore.” Stella closed her eyes, because a giant lump had formed in her throat and she couldn’t speak any longer.

“Please,” she continued, the word barely audible. “Help me. Show me what to do. I want him but I’m scared and I feel it’s not fair to him to be with me, because of my illness. But if I’m not with him I feel completely empty. I don’t really care if I’m healthy or not, because without him I’ll go back to just existing and pretending to live.”

Sobs started escaping from her mouth instead of words, and Stella stopped talking. She thought she’d cried all her tears out, but apparently some were still left.

Next morning the house was awfully quiet. Stella guessed Lisa was still sleeping, although she hadn’t heard her come in the night before. Considering that Stella had passed out after crying for what seemed like hours, that wasn’t a real indication of whether she was home or not. Niki was nowhere to be seen either. Sighing, Stella made coffee and, taking her Kindle, went outside by the pool. She sat on one of the loungers, sipping from her cup and thinking what to do today. Last night she’d expected to have some dream full of revelations, but she hadn’t dreamed of anything.

She still didn’t know what to do about Max. What if he’d moved on? It had been too long; if he’d wanted to see her he would surely have come by now. Or at least texted. But he hadn’t, so she didn’t have a choice but to sit and wait. Sooner or later he’d resurface – he couldn’t avoid Lisa for the next six weeks, right? When she next saw him she’d know what to do.

*

“Man, that was epic. I feel like the old Max is back, only without the anger issues,” Beppe beamed as he drank his coffee. Every word he said pounded in Max’s brain like a Kango drill.

“Stop being so cheerful, please. I’m dying here. Why I let you drag me out of bed is beyond me.”

They were sitting at an outside table in Beppe’s favourite coffee shop. Max was hunched down over the table; his hair was a mess, he wore sunglasses to hide his bloodshot eyes and he felt like shit. When Beppe had stormed into his house this morning, Max couldn’t believe how good his friend had looked and how unaffected he’d been by a whole night full of partying, alcohol and sex.

“I’m never going out with you again,” Max stated, as he took a sip of his coffee.

“Are you kidding me? It was the most fun you’ve had in years. Should I remind you of the two gorgeous ladies you took home with you?” Beppe wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“No. I remember them well. And it wasn’t the most fun I’ve had in years.”

Max’s thoughts drifted to Stella, again, as he remembered their moments together. Any of those moments had been more fun than anything that had happened last night.

“You still thinking about her?” Beppe asked, his voice growing serious. Max nodded. “Last night didn’t help?” Max shook his head.

Beppe sighed and drank his coffee silently for a few minutes.

“OK. I’m sick of this shit. I’m sick of you moping around like a pussy, avoiding her and punishing her because she kissed some other guy. You really want her? Get her! I told you before, the first week she arrived – if you don’t claim her, someone else will. You’ve been tiptoeing around her for weeks and then someone else sweeps in and takes her. Grow a pair and make her yours – or else forget about her.”

“I’m trying to forget about her ...” Max began, but Beppe interrupted him.

“Bullshit. You think about her all the time; how is that forgetting? If you really want her so much that a threesome with two hot girls can’t get her out of your head, you’ve got a problem, bro. You’re in love with her.”

Tell me something I don’t know.

“What are you going to do? Feel sorry for yourself and get wasted every chance you get until she leaves, or go and talk to her and tell her how you really feel?”

“What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“That’s a chance you’ve got to take. If you think she’s worth it, take that chance.”