A Beautiful Forever(15)

“Finally!” Shane says as we come through the door, “I was just about to call you both, dinner’s almost ready.”

Since he was home first he took on the chef duties and has made some pasta for dinner. Paige and I move straight towards the kitchen and help get drinks, bowls and cutlery out to set the table while Shane strains the penne and mixes it with the sauce.

I don’t think I’ve sampled Shane’s cooking before, it’s um…interesting. I’m doing my best to eat it without grimacing.

“Uh…Shane, what did you do to this pasta?” Paige asks laughing, seeming much more relaxed now than she was earlier. She’s poking at a clump of penne stuck together, and only half cooked.

“Man, I don’t know. I put it in boiling water and cooked it for ten minutes like the pack says, but…”

“Did you stir it?” she asks.

He sits up in his chair and looks at her, pressing his lips tightly together as he thinks. “No, I don’t think I did.”

“Well, there’s your problem, you have to stir it a couple of times while it’s cooking,” she tells him gently.

He nods his scruffy blond head, slowly committing this new information to memory. Suddenly, the theme music for ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’ cuts through the quiet of the room.

“My butt’s ringing,” he says as he shifts in his seat to remove his phone from his back pocket, before leaving the table to take the call.

Paige watches him walk into the lounge room before she turns to me, “She is going to kill him if she ever hears her ring tone,” she comments, referring to Shane’s girlfriend. Coral seems like a nice enough girl. She's just a little full on, I guess. She likes to know exactly what Shane is doing at all times, and despite joking that she’s a ball and chain – Shane is very happy to jump whenever she calls.

I look at Paige for a moment, amazed at the change in her demeanour. She seems so much happier now that we’re back at the flat. Tilting her head to see Shane, she seems to be contemplating the same thing I am.

I can’t pretend to eat this food anymore and put my fork down. “Are you going to eat that?” I ask Paige, who is doing little more than poking her food around in circles.

She opens her eyes wide and mouths ‘NO’ as she shakes her head from side to side.

I glance at Shane, who has his back to us, and grab the bowls, quickly dumping their contents into the bin before he has the chance to see. When he walks back into the kitchen, I’m already at the sink busily washing out the bowls.

“Listen guys,” he starts, “I'm going to have to give the movie a miss tonight. The girlfriend’s in a bit of a tizz so I’d better go and sort things out with her.”

“There’s a movie?” I ask.

“Yeah, I forgot to mention it, I hired one on the way home – there’s shit all on tv tonight. It’s over by the DVD player so you guys watch it. It's due back tomorrow. Anyway, I’ve gotta go.”





Paige


“Shane, aren’t you leaving next month?” I ask before he leaves.

“Yeah, that’s kinda what Coral’s problem is. I’ll see you both later,” he says as he grabs his jacket and keys and heads out the door, leaving Elliot and I alone in the house for the first time since I started living here.

For a moment, I watch him from where I’m sitting as he moves around cleaning the kitchen. He is such a kind and beautiful man, and I feel bad for leaving things so unresolved between us, but I can’t help feeling happy just being around him right now.

Rising from my seat, I decide I should help him by drying the dishes. He smiles gratefully at me as I take the first one from the strainer, but he doesn’t speak. He seems lost in thought as we work together, quietly and comfortably, side by side.

Leaving the tea towel on the bench top I pick up the pile of dry dishes to return to the cupboard and bend from the waist to slide them into place. As I right myself, my breath catches in my chest when I find him looking at me, his eyes so intense that I feel frozen in place. Reaching for the tea towel, he dries his hands before he stops what he's doing and turns his whole body to face me.

“What’s your tattoo of?” he probes, dropping his eyes to my waist height.

“What tattoo?” I reply nervously, in a lame attempt to deflect.

“The black and orange one that occasionally sticks out from under your shirt. I saw it on the plane when we first met, and I’ve seen it a couple of times when you’ve leant forward. What is it?” He steps closer to me, a solemn look in his eye.

I shift uneasily under his gaze, “Oh… uh, that one – it’s um just the markings of my misspent youth. It’s um, a phoenix.”

“A phoenix?” he repeats, his voice low and rumbling, caressing even, as he steps closer.

My breathing quickens as I nod quickly in response, suddenly I’m feeling light headed. Taking a step backwards, I try to gain a little distance between us, but that only puts me up against the cupboard behind me. “Elliot don’t,” I whisper watching him stalk towards me. He stops right in front of me, his body brushing up against my own and sending little spirals of longing shooting through me. He’s so close that if I lift my head, we’ll be kissing.

“Can I see it?” he asks, his voice barely audible.

“No,” I breathe out, closing my eyes and trying to focus on keeping calm. His lips brush mine lightly, and I let out a whimper. I'm torn between my body’s impulses to pull him toward me, and my brain’s insistence that I stay away from him. Then all of a sudden, nothing.

Letting out a shaky breath, I open my eyes, feeling both relieved and bereft to see him standing at the sink again, washing up as if nothing happened. I decide to take my cue from him, and walk back over to continue drying up.

“Leave it,” he says, a slight edge to his voice.

I pause and look at him, warring with myself about how I want to deal with this. I can walk away right now, and let whatever this is between us go, without ever having to deal with it. I feel as if I push him away one more time, he might never come back.



A heaviness weighs down my chest, making it hard for me to act. It feels as though my decision now – whichever one it is; will change everything between us. I can’t keep him away anymore, even though I should.

Despite the fact that my better judgement keeps screaming at me to stop, I do something I haven’t voluntarily done for years. I reach out and place my hand on his arm to get his attention.





Elliot


Besides when I forced her to shake my hand on the plane and then paid her to cut my hair, Paige has never touched me willingly – it’s always been me reaching for her. That’s why, when she does, it makes my heart ache from not knowing it until now.

“Elliot,” she ventures, her hand still resting upon my arm. “I’m sorry, ok. I haven’t shown anyone the tattoo – ever... Well, besides the artist of course, but…” Her hands drop to her sides with a slap, “Oh god. I'm ruining this aren’t I?”

Drying my hands again, I turn to face her, meeting her amber eyes that are brimming with tears as her eyebrows furrow and her mouth opens as if she is going to speak. Her eyes dart from side to side as she clamps her mouth shut and presses her full lips together in a thin line. I say nothing as I watch her beautiful face run a gamut of emotions. Feeling disappointed however, when none of them are conveyed to me.

Leaning with one hand on the edge of the sink, I glance down at the floor and clear my throat, I don’t know what it is she isn’t telling me, but it bothers me that she doesn’t trust me enough to tell me things, I’d hoped we were moving past this.

“Paige, what do you want from me?” I ask point blank. It's time to lay our cards on the table.

“I…I don’t know,” she stammers out.

“I think you do,” I whisper.

Slowly, I reach out and gently touch her cheek. It’s as if she quivers under my fingertips and when she closes her eyes, a single tear escapes, sliding down towards my hand in a bright trail of emotion.

Brushing my thumb over the tear, I wipe it away. Paige starts shaking her head and squeezing her eyes tighter. “No, Elliot,” she breathes out, “You don’t want me like that.” When she opens her eyes and stares into mine, hers are so full anguish that I ache along with her, desperately wanting to do something to try to take some of that pain away.

“But I do Paige, what do you want from me,” I insist.

“I…I can’t.”

“Say it Paige,” I continue to push needing this to happen, no matter what the cost.

“You Elliot, I want you!” she yells, finally admitting to what is between us before she drops her face and takes a step away from me. “I’ve done things Elliot, terrible things, and I’ve hurt people. I've used people. I….Oh, god, I can’t do this…” She shakes her hands in an agitated fashion and blows out a calming breath before she continues. “The tattoo, it’s a huge reminder of everything I never want to be again, and I don’t get to have someone like you. I don’t deserve this. I'm not supposed to be happy!” she cries. “Can’t you understand that!?”