Thirty-Eight Days (21 page)

“Good,” he replied as they headed back to the lobby. Clara disposed of the wine bottle in the lobby bin, smiled at Frank at the desk, and headed for the elevator. They rode the lift in silence until it reached Clara’s floor. Like last night, Liam walked her to her front door.

“Thank you for everything, Liam. The ride home and the whole on the bench thing.” The events of last night still played over in her mind.

“You’re welcome, I wouldn’t let you walk home or sit on that bench all night by yourself. But I have one question…”

Oh God, please don’t ask me about what happened last night!

“Why do you like toucans?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her. Clara registered the cuteness of his expression, and she let out a small laugh. At least she could give him that. Clara started to remember why she liked toucans, a memory she had forgotten years ago.

“I was three. My dad, brother, and our family friends went to the zoo. I was so excited to see the butterfly sanctuary that I let go of my dad’s hand. I didn’t know where to go. I kept wandering around the zoo and I realised I couldn’t find Alex or my dad. I did what any three-year-old would, I cried. And then my family friend’s son took my hand and told me not to cry, that we would find my brother and dad. He took me to the closest exhibit and said we’d watch the birds until they returned. The nearest one was the toucan exhibit, and we stood there by the glass, staring at the birds. He never let go of my hand once until my dad came about fifteen minutes later.” Sadness crept back into her heart.

Noel was that boy that held my hand while we watched the toucans.

“I can see why you like them. Remind me to thank that boy one day. Listen, when I finish up in Singapore, can I take you to that breakfast?” She didn’t have to think about her answer for a second.

“Of course. Thank you for everything.” Clara smiled before she kissed his cheek and took her keys out of her pocket. Opening her front door, she stole one last look at Liam with his blanket before she entered her apartment and closed the door behind her. His eyes held hope for them.

C
rimson hair fanned across his pillow, shimmering in the sunlight. It was wrong. He watched as she slept next to him. Noel ran a hand through his messy hair.

“What the fuck did I do?” he murmured so he wouldn’t wake her.

Last night’s events flashed before him. “Shit!” he growled, and punched the mattress of the bed. Valerie gasped as she woke from her sleep.

“Noel, honey, are you okay?” she asked as she sat up, covering her naked body with the blanket. She placed a hand on his shoulder. Her touch felt wrong on his skin.

Honey?
 

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled to her.

“If you’re sure. I’ll be back; I’m just going to get a glass of water,” she announced and rubbed her eyes. He watched as she moved out of bed and picked up the shirt he wore last night. Valerie rolled the long sleeves to her elbows and turned for the bedroom door; the hem of his shirt barely covered her ass. She walked out of the room and he laid his head back on the pillow, frustrated.

Why did I go to the bar? Why did I send Clara…

Noel leapt out of bed and ran to the dresser, putting on a pair of grey pyjama bottoms, ignoring the ties and letting them hang off his hips. He ran after Valerie, hoping to catch her in time. As Noel reached the kitchen, he spotted Clara, standing just by the bar stools, her eyes puffy and bloodshot, hair messy, and her mascara smudged.

She didn’t say anything. She stood there as Valerie spoke to her. When her face turned in his direction, her eyes showed the hurt her smile was trying to disguise.

“Umm, were you… err… here last night?” Valerie asked. His eyes searched Clara’s for the answer he was silently asking.

“No. I was at one the girls’ last night. You just saw me coming in.” Clara placed the box she was carrying on the counter. “Stay for breakfast, Valerie. I’m just about to cook an English breakfast,” Clara said. She walked into the kitchen and opened a bottom cupboard, taking out a fry pan.

“Will you be joining us, Nolan?” she asked without looking at him, placing the pan on the stove.

Nolan? She never calls me Nolan.

He was about to answer when Valerie spoke first.

“Thank you for the offer, Clara, but I’ve got lunch plans with my family. I better get back to my place and get ready.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay? It won’t take long.” Clara smiled at Valerie. The hurt in her eyes aimed for him.

“Positive. I better get my things. Thank you, Clara,” Valerie said, placing her glass in the sink and approaching him.

“You said we were going to Alex’s. You didn’t tell me Clara was going to be here first thing in the morning,” Valarie whispered, her annoyance directed at him.

“I live here; technically it’s Alex’s since he pays for the apartment, but I’m the one who lives here,” Clara said without a look in their direction. Her voice held no acid.

“Right, thank you for letting me crash here, Clara,” Valarie said, trying to save her pride.

“It’s okay,” Clara said sincerely, and walked to the fridge. Valerie smiled back and walked into the bedroom to gather her things. Minutes later, Noel walked her to the front door as Clara started to crack the eggs.

“Last night was great. It was good to see you,” Valarie said as she stood by the door.

“You too, Val.”

“It was weird, wasn’t it? I mean, we should have had dinner before we went straight to the sex, right?” Valarie asked as she stared at the floor, reminding him of when she was an uncertain teenager. “Don’t get me wrong, the sex was great. Better than I remember. Actually better than anything I’ve had in a long time. But we should have probably caught up properly before we leaped into things. I guess all the emotions from when we were dating just came back, and well, you—”

The sound of a tin falling stopped Valerie from continuing, and they both looked at the direction of the sound.

“Crap!” Clara cursed as she wiped up the spilt baked beans off the bench. He was sure he saw a tear in her eye, but she turned too quickly for the sink for him to be sure.

“Dinner next week?” Valerie asked, but Noel kept his eyes on Clara’s back.

“Noel?”

“Yeah, next week. I’ll call you,” he quickly said as he turned his attention back on Valerie. Her electric blue eyes were off. They should be brown, with golden flakes like…

Clara’s.

The air in his lungs fled; he shouldn’t have slept with Valerie, not when his heart was set on a pair of warm and unbelievably confusing brown eyes. Those eyes now held a form of pain and sadness he had never seen before. Valerie smiled as he opened the door for her. Before she left, she turned and her lips were on his. Her kiss too hard, it was almost painful.

When her lips left his, he mustered a smile and closed the front door, wondering if her kiss felt that way last night. He stood there for a moment. He had to summon the courage to face what he did. When he turned, he watched as Clara put two slices of bread into the toaster. He walked slowly towards her as she checked the eggs and put the bacon on another pan.

“I hope you don’t mind white bread. I haven’t been to the grocers to get the wholemeal stuff,” she said as she turned around and faced him. Those eyes pierced deep into him; the hurt in them was heartbreaking. He couldn’t summon the courage. Those eyes were disarming.

“That’s fine,” he said in a small, cowardly voice. He walked over to the kitchen and sat on a bar stool, watching her. Minutes passed with Clara not saying a word.

“Here you go,” she finally said to him as she placed a plate of English breakfast in front of him.

“Thank you… Clara, about last night,” he started to say, but she didn’t look at him, not even a glance.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

“Clara,
please…” he begged as the sound of beeps filled the apartment. He watched her face rise up and she walked towards her laptop on the small desk in the lounge. He looked over to see her answer a Skype call from Alex. A big square image of his best friend's face took up the screen of Clara’s MacBook Pro. She picked up the laptop and sat on the couch with it.

“Kiddo!” he greeted with a big smile.

"Hey, Alex."

“Are you okay? Your eyes are red.” Alex’s smile faded and concern replaced it.

“I’m fine. I think I’m allergic to the flowers in the gardens. I went there this morning, and my eyes started to water,” she said.

“Well, be careful. Remember your allergies when you touched Mrs. Folton's cat. Make sure you go get some allergy medicine today. So…”

“So what?” she asked. Alex frowned and squinted at her.

“How was
your birthday?”

Birthday? Oh…

“Fuck!” Noel muttered out loud, his hands forming tight fists.

Her birthday.

“Nolan Parker, don’t you dare swear in front of my little sister! Get your ass over here!” Alex mocked. Sighing, Noel got off the bar stool and walked around the cream couch, sitting next to Clara, her eyes staring at her laptop screen.

“So, how was the dinner?” Alex asked curiously.

“It was good. Thank you for the birthday cake.
We
both loved it. But like I said, don’t do the whole let the staff sing my sister happy birthday thing, again. I hated it!” Clara answered convincingly. He remembered last night. He heard the sounds of faint singing, the guilt in him building.

“Why wasn’t my credit card charged? I told you to charge it on my tab, Noel.” Alex’s eyes pierced through Noel’s chest, and he knew he would have to explain.

“I… uhh,” Noel mumbled. He knew Clara wouldn’t save him with an answer.

“As if we’d make you pay for
our dinner. Don’t be ridiculous!” Clara said, turning her face and smiling at Noel.

“Then why was
your credit card charged, Clara?” He watched as Alex’s eyebrows bunched together. Noel had no doubts that Alex kept his eye on Clara’s finances.

She paid for her own birthday dinner. I didn’t even tell her about Alex’s tab. I’m a bastard.

“If Noel pays, doesn't that make it a date
?
” Clara raised an eyebrow at her brother.

“Oh, you’re right! No dating for you. Ever! Anyways, I better go. It’s getting late, and I have a few things to do with this account,” Alex said as he brought what look like account sheets to the camera.

“Happy Birthday, Clara. I love you.”

“Thank you. I love you, too, Alex,” she replied wholeheartedly.

“Noel, don’t expect an
‘
I love you.’ You’re my best mate and all, but I don’t feel
that
way about you. Thanks for taking Clara to Pa La Blue last night. You really had my back. Glad to see you both aren’t killing each other. Bye!” Alex waved at the screen and smiled before Clara hung up the call. She closed the laptop and placed it on the coffee table. She got up from the couch and headed for her bedroom.

That entire conversation was a lie. She lied to save my ass from Alex.

“Clara, I’m sorry!” he yelled after her. Clara stopped in her tracks before turning and facing him. The hurt still laced in her eyes.

She sighed heavily, her eyes searching his. “What for?”

“For last night; it was your birthday, and I didn’t even remember. I completely fucked up!” She gave him a slight smile that he didn’t get.

“Don’t be. I understand.”

“I don’t follow, Clara,” he said disoriented by her response.

“It’s Valerie
,
Noel. I’m not blind. I know who she is. What she is to
you.” She breathed out as she closed her eyes tightly.

She means nothing to me, Clara. I just… relapsed.

“She’s the one that got away. She’s your high school sweetheart. I
get it.” She smiled and turned for her bedroom. She couldn’t leave yet; he wasn't finished explaining.

“Clara, wait! It’s not like that. I’m… I’m sorry I disappointed you!” She turned around and walked towards him, stopping only centimetres from his face.

“Disappointed me?” she said in disbelief, and Noel nodded.

“You have
no
idea what it’s like to be a disappointment! To have your parents think so little of you, to have your brother provide for you, and to let your boyfriend lose so much interest in you he screws another girl in front of you! I know what disappointment feels like! I’ve been one my
entire life. So, why would
you
disappoint me, Nolan? We’re friends, if that. So no, you didn’t disappoint me. You just didn’t live up to my expectations!” Her natural composure broke and she raised her voice at him; the hurt in her voice strained her.

“Clara, I’m sorry, please,” he tried again.

“You’re sorry? Sorry is just a word for you. It means nothing to me when you say it!” she said, the pain in her words very clear, breaking his heart.

“I’m going to bed. If you decide to have sex with Valerie in
my
apartment again, tone that shit down, okay? You were so loud that I slept in the garden outside. Oh and thank you for letting me almost walk home. I appreciated that one, too, you asshole!” The bitterness in her words caused an aching sensation in his chest. She wasn’t wrong. He did do all those things.