Chapter 95

“Here.” I pass Jenny the sketches we have been working on across the table and the pretty brunette leans in to pour over them with interested soft brown eyes. Tall and slender and a little shy in her mannerisms, Jenny is my classmate and fast becoming one of my closest friends, next to Christian; both of whom I met on day one of orientation and something just clicked with the three of us, straight off. I have something real with these two and despite myself, they have both wormed their way under my self-defense system over the last few weeks until I simply need them around me to function.

Christian is standing five feet away and draping some wild bohemian fabric on a tailor’s dummy to no avail. All tall and immaculately groomed in his “preppy boy” outfit today. Blonde floppy hair and gray-eyed, his grin aimed at his two best girls. We are tucked in a corner of the busy sewing room while the hustle and bustle of the other students around us float this way and the commanding voice of today’s lecturer. They have split everyone into groups of three this week, to work on designs, our first assessment on simple tailoring skills is fast approaching.

“I think if we go with this one, it’s pretty much a circle skirt and easy bodice, simple enough for us to draft ourselves and we could make it edgier if we are clever with it.” Jenny slides back one of the drawings, tapping a pink floral idea I have been mulling over, based loosely on a trending dress I have seen everywhere for a new season release.

We’ve been in class for a few weeks now, and it’s been almost three months since I walked out on Arrick and booked myself into a hotel. Two weeks later Jake found me a cute two bed apartment within walking distance, and school started days later. Everything swift in his capable hands, as I assumed it would be. I’ve concentrated on my studies, getting my apartment how I like it, and going home every four weeks to see my family. It’s been hard, far worse than even I could envision a life without him would be, but I’m doing it; day by day I’m still breathing, still fighting and not falling to a watery end like I thought I would.

I can live an Arry free life.

For the most part, I can push down the empty ache that I know is him, focus on work and blank the need to bring his name up in my cell every day. I deleted all our pictures on my phone, so I don’t have the memories of his smile, those hazel eyes or that gorgeous face. He made me hate him for a moment … then I shut down the parts of my soul that he’s entwined with and blocked him out. It’s better this way.

Arrick has been a missing chasm in my life, but it seems both of us concluded that we shouldn’t contact one another. A real wall of silence at last and even Jake avoids mentioning him when I see him at our fortnightly lunch date. He knows how I feel, how much I don’t want to know how he’s getting on and how angry I still am that he could just throw me away like I never meant a thing to him. I feel like I never really knew him, if this is how he can treat me, after everything I was supposed to mean to him. He told me I was a part of him, and yet he let me go as if I meant nothing.

It hurts a lot more than I thought it would, considering he told me that life sucked without me and yet here we are, three months of no Arry … no calls, no texts, and no chance encounters, despite living close to one another. I guess I haven’t tried to reach out to him either, but then why would I? He made it clear that night that she was his future, there was no way around the fact that I couldn’t be, and I’m learning how to live with a broken heart that will eventually go away.

He seems to plan his trips home when he knows I won’t be in the Hamptons, so I guess he relies on Jake for that, seeing as I fly home with him once a month. To date, I haven’t run into him in passing in the city either. Not that it’s a surprise. I’ve kept my head down and left the party animal in me behind, and apart from the occasional party, Arrick never used to really travel in same circles as me. His fight career and Carrero Corp means he is never going to be randomly traipsing the city or any women’s fashion stores. I’m just focusing on the future I want for myself and finally feel in more control of some aspects of my life.

I’m doing it … growing up all by myself.

I go home at the end of the day and spend time, either with my new-found two best friends, watching movies, or working in my custom made sewing room, where I’m finding so much joy nowadays. Eating, breathing and living the life of a fashion student and compiling an impressive array of mock-up designs hanging on clothes rails, despite the early days of my student life.

I’m excelling and seem to have a natural talent for this. The opportunities to attend catwalk shows, new releases and sneak peeks of next season designs is completely overtaking my life. Enough to cope with the constant black hole of ache that happens when Arrick is a missing part. I won’t let this affect me.

“Lemme see,” Christian moves over the table to nosey at our group project. We’ve been given the challenge of coming up with a summer item of clothing to fit the current trend of loose, floaty, feminine, and floral. With me being the one who loves to sketch designs all day long, I’m the appointed designer on this one.

Christian leans in close, smelling a little too sandalwood good, as he always does, and surrounds us in a fog of scent. I squint at his comical expression as he regards the papers.

“Lift the hem up by a few inches and we have a winner.” He smirks cheekily; despite his aversion to sex with the fairer species he has a thing for female legs on show. I’m borderline sure it’s a fetish and does not fit at all with his love for men’s abs and what’s between their thighs.

“We’re going with classy and fifties inspired.” Jenny nudges him in the ribs as he leans over her, making it awkward for her to sit straight. Jenny is the quiet one of our trio, shy and softly spoken, while Christian is the flamboyant drama queen. The one who eye rolls and huffs, much like he does now.

“Whatev’s. Far too conservative if you ask me!” He goes back to trying to wrap his fabric around the dummy and we leave him to sulk, giggling at his grumpy stamping and glares cast our way. He likes to think he knows best, but really, his strengths are edgy and bold design, nitty-gritty and daring. Jenny is classier and more stylish, while I seem to have a bit of a mix and a keen eye for trends.

“You guys still coming for lunch today, my treat?” I glance up at Jenny across the table, reminding them of the celebratory plan. I finally finished my apartment and feel like it’s worth celebrating over. My first steps of real adulthood. No more boxes or half furnished rooms and mess, no more bare walls and feeling like it’s a temporary home. It’s finished, decorated and adorned with all my little touches. And it only took me two and a half months of abusing my two besties to help me get it that way.

My parents visited a week ago and really made me feel like I’ve finally found my place in life. We have come so far in such a brief time, now I’ve regained their trust, their love and things are looking up. Leila, of course, hates that I have moved here permanently, but she is warming to it and my frequent trips home mean she can forgive me for it. She refuses to come to the city to see me though, apparently leaving this life behind to marry Daniel means she has an aversion to ever leaving home.

“Oh, shit, Sophs, is that today? I can’t, it’s Mark’s birthday and I promised him I would meet him at lunch.” Jenny’s big eyes and wobbling lip dismiss any urge to be mad at her. Her boyfriend works crazy shifts and she barely sees him as it is. I know they have been having a rough time together lately, well, truth be told she never actually seems happy when it comes to him. I can’t be mad for her wanting to see him on his birthday, over my nothing lunch.

“It’s okay, as long as Chris doesn’t bail too.” I lift my brow up at him as he wiggles his very muscular pert butt our way; laughing at his weirdness.

“I wouldn’t bail on my queen.” Christian blows me a kiss and I can’t help but think, not for the first time, how unfair it is that a guy as perfectly formed and handsome as him, is gay. When he isn’t being overly camp and emphasizing it, then he pulls off straight guy all day long and he is always immaculately dressed. I sigh at the unfairness of life, having found a man I get on with almost as much as “him, whom I will no longer name”, only it’s typical he is out of bounds.

“Well, I fancy somewhere more upmarket; on me.” I smile his way and he shrugs in return. So not in the mood for fast food or our usual deli today. I want to throw on the dress I brought with me, flick out my hair, now that I’m back to rocking blonde and have a sophisticated lunch with my new favorite beau.

Second favorite beau, even if the first one no longer deserves the title.

“I think I know the perfect place, only opened a month ago and no reservation required.” Christian beams at me with that dazzling, all too white, cosmetically enhanced grin, looking a little Calvin Klein model with the way he’s leaning in.

“Sure. I trust you. As long as it’s not sushi! I do not like raw fish.” I frown and mock throw up with fingers down my throat in his general direction. Jenny giggles at me with an adoring expression that makes her seem cutely juvenile.

“Ewww no … I prefer meat to fish! I can swallow that all day long, bitches.” Christian sasses with a dirty wink and both Jenny and I eye roll and grimace at his filthy joke. Sometimes Christian is shameless and just likes to shock.

My kind of friend.

***

I’m trawling my phone messages after we finish eating, my sister reminding me of her anniversary party this coming month. Leila has been married only three years, but this is an annual event that no one misses if they want to remain physically unharmed. Sort of the highlight to everyone’s year, and a chance to glam up and get the party groove on. I reply, informing her I’ll be coming with two guests, Jenny and Christian, as they have promised to be my strength at a party, I know he will be at. Even the Carreros never miss Leila’s parties, what with the two families being almost family in themselves and the last thing I need is to rock up alone and come face to face with the dream couple acting like they never knew me at all.

Yeah, that won’t be awkward at all. Or painful in the slightest!

“You done, kitten?” Christian’s smiling my way, throwing down his napkin after settling the bill, despite all my pre-warning that this was on me. He’s a sneaky boy, always diving in with that damn chivalry that I used to love so much on someone else. It irks me right now.

“Hey, I said I was paying!” I protest as I spy the receipt on the plate, but he only grins back devilishly. Christian’s family is much like mine in that I never want for anything. Well off, and generous to a fault; both of us come from wealthy homes and have more than comfortable allowances to live on.

“I pay for my girls.” He smiles again but I only eye roll, as Christian likes to imply constantly that Jenny and I are his “women” although we all know he has been secretly dating a senior fashion student a couple of years above us, who has not quite come out of the closet yet. James is his blue-eyed boy with a severe fear of being “outed”.

Christian holds his hand out to me as he slides from the table, impeccably dressed in jeans and a button-down that only emphasize his toned body. He’s not overly tall for a guy, around five feet ten, but he’s perfectly proportioned and muscular with it. I take it graciously and let him pull me out to his side, keeping our fingers entwined. Christian is a very affectionate soul, he loves nothing more than manhandling Jenny and me constantly, and likes to walk everywhere arm in arm, or hand in hand, usually with one of us on each side. He reminds me of Arrick in that way and I’m forever trying to stop myself making that connection.

“Is my princess ready to go?” He glances down at my chair, checking I have everything as I nod with a huge smile. Christian always makes me feel like smiling, he’s one of those friends who put sunshine in your day, by just by being there. Always the gentleman, and a lot of lovely. When he’s not being an overly dramatic nightmare of a queen, of course.

“I am.” I giggle at him, as he tugs me against him to settle my arm in his like an old biddy and links fingers loosely, ready to walk out of the restaurant. He moves the chair aside and guides me with him towards the door, away from our table and onto the wide walkaway that is clear up the center.

“Sophie?” A male voice halts me from behind, my body bristling at the familiarity of it, the undeniable tone and hoarse sexiness, sends my stomach into an instant nosedive, nerves immediately tingling. I can barely conceal my reaction, tensing on Christian’s arm as I wince in something similar to pain. I turn towards the source impulsively, heart thudding heavily, even though every part of me tells me to walk away.

My heart pounding like it’s gone into shock as I turn slowly, tense and scared at what I know will hurt worse to see. Months of nothing at all and the one day he’s been plaguing my head mercilessly, more than any other day, he physically appears.

Arrick Carrero is standing straight as a rod a few feet away, obviously just arriving with two men behind him, all casually dressed, and I recognize one of them as someone that he regularly hangs out with. The familiar face casts a friendly smile my way, a nod of recognition that I return with a half-smile before bringing my focus back to Arry. I don’t know how to react, so grip Christian fingers harder, as though to beg him to help me. He squeezes them back silently. His little show of support.

“Hi.” I breathe weakly, unable to hold the gaze of those perfect hazel eyes, in that all too flawless and clean-shaven face. Not a thing about his appearance has changed in anyway and he’s still as devastating to my soul. He looks like the guy I miss, in every single little tiny way and it only hurts me irreversibly that he seems so normal and unaffected by finally seeing me again. There is definite weirdness, uncertainty in how I should act, and I feel like I don’t know him anymore. My heart playing the rhumba and my legs go weak as blood courses to my heart in stupendous fashion. Physically I’m dying, outwardly I am still and cool like he always was.

Christian lets go of my arm, unhooks his fingers, and slings a supportive arm around my shoulders. He knows who Arrick Carrero is; any hot-blooded admirer of gorgeous men in the whole of New York knows who he is, and he knows the backstory between Arrick and I only too well. A night of wine and movies ended up with my sobbing my heart out and confessing the whole sorry story to the two of them at stupid o’clock one Saturday night. They know every single detail and decided he should earn the crown of “idiot of the century” for letting me go.

Arrick narrows his eyes a fraction, a slight tension to his jaw as he tries not to run his eyes over the way Christian is draped around me, I see the subtle tells. Not sure how to take it at all. Not sure I should even care if he doesn’t like it. I owe him nothing anymore.

He hurt you remember. Discarded you like you meant nothing.

“How have you been?” He clears his throat as his two companions wander off further in the direction of their table, leaving him alone with us. It’s wholly awkward, and I resist the urge to fidget, aware of the way my heart and soul start to quiver at his mere presence and alert me to the fact that three months have not changed a whole lot between us. I clearly still fall to pieces at the sight of him, my heart aching, and the sudden sadness of realizing I still love him hits me in the gut. No matter how many times I’ve told myself I’ll never need him again, never want to… Here we are.

He looks like him; flawlessly pulled together, emotionally cool and stunning as he always was. Hair spiked on top and lighter in color, freshly cut, clean-shaven, while those hazel eyes are a lot greener today. Then I guess seeing me would maybe stress him out, especially if he swore to Natasha he would never have anything to do with me again. He doesn’t go back on his word, ever.

Well, unless it comes to me. I guess promises made to me don’t mean anything when it came to her.

“I’m good, just getting on, and you know? … I have school.” I answer unsurely, lost for words, my voice noticeably young. Christian seems to sense my unease and leans past, extending a hand. I almost forgot he was draped around me, only seeing Arrick in this place, as though everyone and everything else faded into non-existence.

“Hi, I’m Christian, Sophie’s told me about you being childhood besties, and I have to say I’m an admirer of your fighting skills, Arrick. I see you had another knockout victory two weeks back, against Tiger Marse.” Christian lays on the straight guy act super thickly and I cringe inwardly. I hate when he plays the macho guy, it doesn’t suit him.

Arrick regards his outstretched hand a moment and I really think he might just ignore it, he seems strangely torn before shaking it firmly, and a little too firmly judging by Christian’s tensing body. I note the way both have gone into guy mode, voices a tad huskier and mannerisms a little more rugged, like an alpha male tug of war, or some nonsense. I don’t get it at all, but Christian seems to be in the zone with his play pretend and pulls his hand back to his side.

“Thanks. Nice to meet you, Christian.” Arrick goes to say more, but one of his friends calls on him, making him look back with a frown. He turns back with an unreadable expression and there’s another awkward pause between the three of us as his eyes take me in quickly. His gaze travels over me as though his hands skimmed me instead and every part of me warms crazily. Standing in my floral dress and dainty flats, completely vulnerable to him. I know I must look different from the last time he saw me. I’ve found a new girly style again, with floaty short dresses and sweet shrugs, that are not so severe as the glamour chic that Camilla inspired. My hair is longer and softer in its grown out, stripped back to blonde, light bob style, and my makeup is natural.

“You look good Sophs. You always were more beautiful as a blonde. I like this on you, the sweet girl look … It’s more you.” His eyes come to rest on my hair, a steady look that translates so much, yet so little, and it only deepens the heavy feeling in my heart to an almost unbearable level.

“Thanks. You too. I mean … you look good.” I blush shyly, looking down at my hands as the emotion in my throat builds up to choke me. The man nearby, the unfamiliar one, calls on Arrick again and this time Arry signals at him to wait another two minutes with a hand gesture. He turns back to me, all but ignoring Christian’s presence. Christian is being strangely silent for a guy who normally never shuts up.

“I need to go, Sophs; are you going to Leila’s party?” Arrick seems rooted to the spot as if he has no intention of moving, but Christian is quick off the mark, sensing my growing inability to function the longer we stand here. I’m literally getting quieter and more nervous, unsure how to talk to him as my throat closes on me. My body starting to tremble subtly, and I’m pretty sure I’m losing the use of my legs. This extreme physical reaction only happens with him, and I hate that he still has this effect on me.

“We sure will be, won’t we sweetheart? Can’t wait to meet Daniel, and of course, Leila. Her parents have told me she’s the family fireball.” Christian squeezes my shoulders and I throw him a mild frown. I know what he’s doing and I’m not sure I like it. Arrick looks away, again his cool unreadable facade back in place, that tiny muscle in his jaw making the tiniest of movements. A little Arrick tell that he’s not as unaffected as he likes to pretend. The master of indifference is back and even feeling this estranged from him, I can still sense some of his moods.

“Guess I’ll see you both there then.” Arrick smiles my way tightly, eyes locking briefly and it’s like a thunderbolt to my heart. That devastating half-smile that can crush souls with a tiny flash, dimples hinting, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks somehow deflated. I wonder if life with Natasha is back to what it once was, seeing as this is how he always used to seem with her. I guess the lack of my problematic self means he has everything back under control and boringly normal.

Just how he wanted it, right?

“Guess you will.” I smile quickly, my face tenses because it’s completely unnatural and look down, away from that gaze with a heavy sigh. It’s beyond me how one person can affect every single tiny part of you with the littlest of efforts.

“I better go before they start kicking off and eating the tablecloths.” He motions casually towards his two friends at a nearby table and I nod, my stomach twisting in two. Hating that he still makes me feel this way and wishing I hadn’t seen him again, but at the same time, wishing I was alone, wishing he hadn’t thought Christian was my boyfriend and he would have given me an old Arrick hug, like the old days to wipe the slate clean. I can’t deny that seeing him has only emphasized how much I miss him, how much I would have him back, even as friends, because this distance is worse than hell. Seeing him only reminds me of how much I still need him, and it hurts more than any pain I ever knew I could feel. I’m torn, knowing we should leave, but my feet don’t want to move. It’s like my brain desperately wants to cling to him in any way it can, even if he did rip my heart out.

God, I am so pathetic.

“I suppose, bye, then.” I answer softly, close to tears. I let Christian tug me away, obviously realizing that I can’t do it myself, throwing a casual wave and smile and acting like he owns me as Arrick watches me go. Throwing me one last look as our eyes connect, and for a mere second, I swear I catch a hint of raw unguarded regret and a subtle sigh. Arrick looks hurt, maybe. His eyes lose focus on me, his brows dip for a moment as he frowns and seems to lose that façade momentarily, a slight sag in his posture, but then it’s gone, and I’m being ushered out of the restaurant by Christian and into the afternoon sun and fresh zingy air.

“He’s far sexier in person. Damn, I would tap that ass if he played for my field.” Christian cuts into my thoughts of imprinting Arrick’s voice and face to memory, whether I want to or not, placing a hand over his heart dramatically.

“You better cut that out if you’re still trying to convince him I’m your bitch, Chris. You’re looking decidedly camp right now.” I throw him an eyebrow lift and he smiles cheekily. I don’t know whether I’m scolding him or light-heartedly telling him off, I’m so confused about how I should feel over Arry thinking Christian is my beau. I’m still reeling from the shock of seeing him and not sure how I should feel in general. I need to get away from the restaurant, so I can think.

“You mad at me, princess?” He hauls me into his chest and wraps his arms around my head before planting a kiss on top of it. I struggle free, borderline suffocating and having my face squished into oblivion, aware of the fact that we are still in front of the huge windows of the eatery and Arrick can most likely still see us from wherever he is. I try not to make it obvious that I’m untangling myself and pushing him off. Heaving breaths in and rubbing my poor face in the process.

“Why let him think that you and I are together?” I pout, obviously irritated, rubbing the bridge of my nose as he leans in and plants an apologetic kiss on the tip of it with a smile and a wink.

“Because, my love, if that guy has any sense at all, then the green-eyed goddess we call jealousy will be poking his gorgeous pride. I could smell the regret swarming off him in droves when he caught sight of my sexy girl.” Christian catches my hand and twirls me under his arm, almost colliding with people on the sidewalk who are innocently strolling by and setting me off balance. I giggle and shove him playfully in the chest, caught in his arms as he rights me again.

“You are a bad boy!” I chide with a genuine smile, losing my doubts and falling into Christian’s constant good mood. He’s eternally playful, sinfully naughty and yet somehow always seems to get away with it.

“Oooh, say it again, I like it when you say it all sexy and pretend to be mad. If I was into girls then I would totally do you when you call me that.” Christian leans in and plants a kiss on my cheek, ruffling my hair and smacking my ass as he pushes me ahead of him to head back to school. It’s only two blocks away and the mild weather means it’s a pleasant walk, no cab required when it’s a perfect mild day like this afternoon is. Christian takes my arm in his, his expression dropping to become serious and he eyes me reflectively.

“How was it though? Seeing him again, after so long?” He squeezes my arm reassuringly.

“Hard. Awful.” I swallow down the weird lump that started with the sound of his voice and grew when I laid eyes on him, heating my belly to insane levels. “Much harder than I thought it would be … I still love him.” I sigh sadly, pushing it all back down behind that wall of indifference as hard as I can and almost succeeding. Christian frowns at me, dropping my arm and pulling me close with a consoling squeeze around my back, hugging me in like the best friend he is.

“I know baby girl. It’s his loss. He should have seen what was right in front of him and grabbed on with both hands, because you are worth grabbing onto, Sophie. You will find someone who adores the ground you walk on, and you’ll get over him one day, I promise.” Christian nudges my shoulder with his and gives me a sympathetic half-smile. He knows this story well enough to know that I do not like talking about this, that I like to appear always in control and emotionally undamaged.

My mask of strength.