I have tried to cut Hugo out so many times, and every time he just fights his way back in. The only way to permanently damage this is for him to reject me, because I don’t have the will power to keep my distance from him.
My hand shakes as I reach for the call button. He doesn’t pick up, just releases the latch for the front door. I climb the single flight of stairs, coaxing Gary up every step. The poor bugger is knackered by the time he reaches the top. I don’t even get a chance to knock before the door swings open and he scoops me up into a hug. My body almost sighs as it moulds against his, preening at his warm touch, and inhaling the familiar scent of him. Everything about him reminds me of happiness, of earth shattering orgasms and hours of laughter. Why do our minds do that? Why can’t I remember what it felt like to walk in on him with a hooker? Why can’t I just see that however I may feel about him, he probably fucked every hooker in Vegas over the last four days?
I steel myself and push away from him, keeping my eyes fixed on Gary. He releases me, and pulls me into the flat.
“Did you miss me?” I’m about to say something, when I realise he’s talking to Gary who is wiggling around and grunting at my feet. He pats the big dog on the back, and he shuffles off into the flat, his lead trailing behind him.
“Do you want a drink?” He asks.
“Um, water please.” I’m not thirsty, but I just need the few seconds that it will take him to get me some water to compose myself. In the last twenty four hours I have gone backwards and forwards over this situation, and I still don’t know what I’m going to say to him.
He moves into the living room and I follow him as he goes into the kitchen. I watch as he reaches up and grabs a glass, his t-shirt lifting with the movement and exposing a strip of his toned stomach and the small tattoo on his hip bone. I swallow hard as my pulse picks up. Fuck. I need to get it together and stop looking at him like a fuck doll.
I back out of the kitchen and end up hovering in the doorway. Gary has made it onto the sofa and has now passed out.
“Here you go.” I turn around at the sound of his voice.
“I need to talk to you.” I say quickly.
He raises an eyebrow. “Okay.”
He leans against the door frame, crossing his arms over his muscular chest, and straining the sleeves of his t-shirt. He looks good. Too good.
I don’t know what to say to him. I know what I feel is stupid, and I know that this will change nothing, but I need him to know. We’ve done this dance before, I push him away, or he pushes me away, but we always seem to get pulled back to each other. I can’t keep getting sucked back in. It’s not fair. I need to hear him reject me once and for all. I want my stupid heart to catch up with my head and realise that Hugo will never change. I will never be anything more than a bit of fun to him. I need him to walk away from me, because I can’t walk away from him, and my feelings for him are jeopardizing any future I might have with Alex.
Alex. He deserves so much better. He deserves the world. I’m a horrible person.
“I need to talk to you.” I manage to stammer.
He nods. “You said that already.”
“Uh, yeah. Sorry.” God, why is this so fucking hard? Just say it already! “Okay, I’m going to tell you something. It doesn’t mean anything okay? Don’t break out in hives, or catch AIDS because you decided to go and fuck three hundred hookers in an attempt to purge this from your mind.” I start.
“Okay, now I’m scared.” He smiles.
“Okay…” Shit. Breathe! “I love you.” Oh fuck, I think I’m going to be sick.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
HUGO
“I love you.” She blurts it so quickly, I’m not sure I heard her right, but the look on her face tells me that’s exactly what she just said. She’s gone sheet white, and she looks how I feel.
“You love me?” I say slowly, playing the words over. She nods, pressing her hand against her stomach, as though she’s trying to hold herself together. She can’t love me. That’s ridiculous. Why the fuck would she love me? I don’t even know what love is. I feel like I’m right back in my living room six months ago, when she told me she liked me. Every thought I had then, I’m having now. She’s too good for me. Why the fuck have I allowed her to think that it’s okay to like me, and now to love me?
“But…we’re friends.” I say numbly.
“I know, and I wish I didn’t feel this way, because it complicates that.”
“But, Alex?”
She nods, flicking her eyes downward. “I love him too, it’s just different.”
“Molly, I can’t…” I start.
“I know.” She offers me a small smile. “I know. It’s selfish of me to tell you this, because I know you don’t feel the same way, and you never will. You aren’t programmed that way, and I’m…well, I just am. That just makes us different.” Her voice is soft and soothing. Whenever I’m away from her for long periods of time, I forget how much I miss it. I’m not programmed that way, and I don’t love her, but I care for her, too much.
“I can’t offer you anything.” I say. She nods her head, keeping her eyes trained on the floor as she swallows heavily.
“And I’m not asking for anything, but this changes things. I can’t hang around with you all the time. I can’t…I can’t be your friend.” My throat tightens as I take in what she just said. Over the last couple of months, Molly has become one of my best friends. I don’t want her to walk away from me. “It’s not fair to Alex.”
Alex, just the sound of his name has me clenching my fists. She’s walking away from me for him.
I fight back the anger and take a deep breath. “Alex is good, and we both know I’m not good enough.” I nod.
She shakes her head, and gently cups my cheek. “You’re wrong.” She whispers, a sad smile on her beautiful face. She drops her hand and steps back, putting distance between us again.
I shake my head. “You just want to see good that isn’t there.”
I do what needs to be done, and I set her free. Free from me, and free from her misplaced feelings.
“You’re one of my best friend’s sweetness, but I’ll never love you like that.” I say casually. I watch the hurt ripple across her face and it fucking kills me to put it there, but this is the only way. I fucked a hooker in front of her and she still forgave me, because that’s what Molly does, she looks past that shit and accepts it. This is different though, I can feel it. Love is a whole new ball game. She just held out her heart to me and I spat on it. I hate the thought of losing her, but it’s selfish to try and keep her, when she feels the way she does. Alex can offer her everything I can’t. “I’m so sorry Molly.”
She sniffs a little. “No, it’s okay. It’s okay. I knew that. You haven’t told me anything new.” She draws in a deep breath. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
I should let her walk away now, but I don’t. I pull her to me and hold her in a tight hug. “I’m so fucking sorry.” I whisper to her. Her body shakes as a small sob breaks free. If I have a heart, then it’s fucking bleeding for her right now. I’ve hurt the only woman, possibly the only person I have ever truly cared about. The only saving grace is that I do this to protect her, because I know that in a few months from now she will be happy in ways that I could never make her.
She pushes me away gently. “Goodbye, Hugo.” She whispers, before she turns away and walks out.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MOLLY
I stagger out of Hugo’s apartment, onto the street outside. My chest feels so tight, I can barely breathe. Pain ripples through my torso, and I choke on a sob, pressing my hand over my mouth to try and stop my imminent breakdown.
Don’t fall apart now, Molly.
I’ve experienced heartbreak before, but this is something else, something far worse. I’ve lost so much more than my mind can possibly comprehend. Hugo has become one of my best friends, and I just lost him because I was too selfish to just let it go. I wanted something from him he was never able to give. I knew he could never give me anything more than friendship and yet I told him I loved him anyway. Why? Because the stupid little girl in me couldn’t help but believe that maybe, just maybe he would change for her. He won’t, and now I know that¸ but at what cost?
Could we have continued on as friends, me always pining for him, and him continuing to fuck his way through half of London? I know we couldn’t, and I know I have more respect than to stand by and watch that, but right now, my heart hurts. Right now, I would endure and suffer just to keep him in my life.
This is what love does to people. This is what he does to me. He makes me want to suffer and bleed for him, because I love him. Fuck! How did I fuck this up so badly? Who the fuck falls in love with the biggest man whore on the face of the earth? Oh, that’s right, me.
I walk down the road, until I reach George’s red Jeep, which I parked here earlier. As soon as I close the door behind me, a tear streaks down my cheek. I swipe at it, and glance at my reflection in the rear view mirror. The dim interior light reflects off my watery eyes. I look as fragile as I feel, and I feel as if a giant gaping hole has been punched through my chest. I feel like something is missing and irreplaceable. I hurt for Hugo, because he will continue through life, and never know what it is to love someone. I hurt for myself, and my silly childish dreams. I also hurt for Alex, because he
does
love me, and yet here I am feeling utterly destroyed over another man.
If love were rational, then Hugo wouldn’t even be a factor. Alex would be more than enough. Unfortunately for me, love is far from rational. I have the splintered heart to prove it.
I look away, and turn the key in the ignition. The little car coughs to life, and I pull out into the steady traffic. The lights blur as my eyes water. I bite my lip and turn up the radio, blasting rock music into the car. I will not fucking fall apart. I’m better than this.
I manage to maintain that, until I step inside my flat and find Lilly waiting anxiously for me. She takes one look at my face and rushes toward me, wrapping me in her arms. I lose it and break down right there.
“Shh, it’s okay, Mole.” I literally cry on her shoulder. “It’s okay.” She repeats, holding me tight.
A couple of hours and three bottles of wine later, and it is okay. Sort of. At least I’m not crying any more.
“He does love you in his own way.” Lilly says, her big green eyes full of concern.
I take another gulp of my wine. “He said he will never love me. It’s okay though. I should have known better. You warned me Lill’s.” I laugh humourlessly. “How many times have I given you ‘sensible’ advice? Shame I can’t follow it myself.”
She smiles sympathetically. “No-one ever does. Hell, I didn’t. What is it with us and unsuitable men?”
“Hugo redefines unsuitable.”
“There isn’t even a word for Hugo.” She agrees.
“Just, why? Why him? I must either be fucking stupid, or completely masochistic.” I groan.
“You’re human Molly. And you’re good, too good. You see the best in people always. It’s what makes you so awesome.” She smiles, rubbing her hand over my arm.
“He said something similar. He said that I want to see good that isn’t there. God that’s so desperately bloody sad. I need another drink.” I huff.
“Okay, drink I can do.” She hops up off the sofa, and goes into the kitchen. When she comes back she’s holding a bottle of raspberry Belvedere. Good, I need something strong right now.
The next few days pass slowly. Time always seems to pass slowly when you’re miserable. It’s like life is just mocking you. Amongst all the feelings swirling around me right now, guilt is very much at the fore front.
I’ve been avoiding Alex for the past three nights, making up excuses as to why I can’t see him. The problem is that I can’t look at him and not compare him to Hugo. I should really talk to him. I should tell him that I love Hugo. I should tell him that he could do better, but I’m too selfish. I love him. It may not be the same as the way I love Hugo, but I do love him, a lot. I can’t bear to lose him right now. I know that makes me a horrible person. I can’t face him. I feel like he’ll take one look at me and see what a vile individual I really am. Heartbreak is hard enough to deal with, but paired with the guilt and the self-hatred…I’m drowning under the weight of it all. I just want everything to disappear.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
HUGO
I tilt the bottle of Grey Goose back and take three long swallows. I then take a long drag of the joint that I bought off some kid outside the club. I just need to be fucking wasted right now. I don’t want to think, I don’t want to feel. I just want to get fucked up. The intercom buzzes loudly. I groan and stagger to the door to get it.
“Hugo.” The husky female voice purrs. I buzz her in without saying a word, and stagger back to the sofa.
I hear her push the door open, and the clicking of her high heels across the wooden flooring. She saunters into view, all long legs and long blonde hair. Elaina. She’s one of the best hookers I’ve ever had, although I haven’t used her for a while. She’s so good, she’s a little addictive. At ten grand a night, she was costing me a fucking fortune.
I have absolutely no shame about using a hooker. Hookers are just quality assurance. Like anything in life, you get what you pay for.
“You look worse for wear.” She says in that sexy as fuck voice of hers. Elaina was made for sex, her body, her voice, everything about her makes a man hard in seconds.
“You look over-dressed.” I say, taking another drag of the joint.
She shrugs and reaches around to unzip her dress. It falls to the floor, revealing her flat stomach and perky tits. She’s wearing white lace underwear, and it just screams innocence, which is fucking irony at it’s very best. I hold out the joint to her and she takes it. She places it between her full lips and sucks on it in a way that is nothing short of fucking perfection. She doesn’t hand it back to me, but saunters forward, swaying those full hips with every stride, and cloud of smoke billowing around her.