Page 33 of Still Falling for You

When we’re about to move, a familiar hit of too-strong cologne accompanied by a sickly floral scent fills my nostrils. Aaron and his mistress-turned-mother-of-his-child have joined the queue. I remember smelling the exact fragrance in the bungalow months before I discovered he was cheating on me. I kept complaining to Aaron, the gaslighting bastard, about it, but he pretended he couldn’t smell anything. My shoulders shudder at the memory, but Alex wraps his arm around my waist as he leads me away, slowing down to match my hobbling pace.

He leans into me. ‘Where are you sitting?’ His breath is hot against the shell of my ear.

I nod towards the table in the corner, and he seats himself in my chair, forcing me to turn my back on Aaron and the rest of the café. I shut my laptop, but before the screen turns black, Alex catches a glimpse of my online activities. His lip twitches for a moment before his features become unreadable again. Right now, I envy his ability to look casual.

My name is spoken somewhere behind me, but I don’t react. Let Aaron come to me if he really desires to see me that much.

Instead of having a sip from his own coffee cup, Alex moves my drink in front of him and starts gathering all the sugar sachets on the tray into a small pile. Then, he opens them carefully one by one and empties the contents into my Americano. He’s remembered not only my favourite hot drink but also how I drink it. For a few moments, I watch him as he empties sachet after sachet, my mind wandering to another morning in a different café ten years ago. Again, I wonder how somebody can change so much, and yet, stay the same. Suddenly, I’m transported back ten years.

15

It’s six o’clock in the evening and the window of the dingy café is steamed up. Water droplets slide down the outside surface of the window in rivulets, creating small waterfalls. The inside of the café is cosy despite the smell of fried food, unyielding plastic furniture and Formica tops. But maybe I’m feeling cosy because Alex is opposite me.

He pours the fourth sachet of sugar into my black coffee, his long fingers ripping each packet as he goes, meticulously emptying every last grain of sugar. His pink lips are pursed, lip piercing shining almost golden in the artificial light. I can feel he’s itching to say something.

‘Spill it,’ I challenge him.

He pauses, his green eyes gleaming with mirth.

‘I will sound awfully pedantic, but I can’t help it so don’t judge me.’ I can’t stop the grin. It’s so like Alex, acknowledging his mistakes before he’s even made them, yet unable to stop himself. ‘You know that that amount of sugar will only turn into glucose, give you a short energy boost and then once it’s metabolised, your energy level will drop rapidly and make you feel even worse?’

He cares so much about so many things, including me. I love that about him. At the word love, my brain goes into total override, buffering and buffering until it halts, flashing a message in CG Times Roman Bold font stating401 – Unauthorized. Your request could not be processed. The word has been sneaking up on me for the last few weeks, and I can’t quite figure out what to do with it.

‘You’re right – it does make you sound pedantic.’ He pushes against my shoulder playfully, making me laugh. ‘You’re such a smarty-pants.’ I lean over and muss his hair to dispel the thickness in my throat. The amber strands run silkily between my fingers.

When I’m ready to pull away, he quickly catches my hand and kisses my palm. Heat crackles in the pit of my stomachlike fresh firewood chucked onto a well-established fire. That’s what it’s like being with Alex. Over the weeks I’ve been going out with him, I’ve been unable to suppress the growing reaction. My body is ablaze whenever he’s near me, every touch kindling this feeling further. If we carry on in this vein, one day I’ll just spontaneously combust. My face must show my not-so-subtle, and frankly crude, desires because he leans closer, and his lips caress mine in an unspoken promise of more.

‘When you look at me like that, you drive me insane.’ His breathing picks up. We’re a complete electrical circuit whenever we touch. The source, conductors, load and all. Whenever our skins connect, we create a fixed path for electricity to flow through.

‘Like what?’ I ask, suddenly as breathless as he is. I’ve never been bold, but my shyness is defeated by curiosity.

‘Like I’m everything.’ His words make my chest explode into a million pieces, sparks of heat flying into the crevasses created by the rupture.

I’m ready to share feelings with him that I haven’t dared to say even in my own mind when the door to the café opens, followed by a loud bell chime.

A couple seat themselves in the faraway corner. I barely look at them, but something about the man snags in my brain, and I have to check what it is. My mouth dries up when I recognise him.

My dad’s shaggy brown hair and old-fashioned glasses stand out in the rundown café. I watch him as he helps a woman in her late twenties out of a fluffy pink coat. Everything about them, their age, their outfits and even their body postures, makesthem look jarring next to each other. I don’t realise I’ve flinched until my chair scrapes loudly against the lino floor and Alex asks whether I’m OK. I nod, unsure whether I mean it.

I wonder why my dad’s here. He’s supposed to be at a conference, something to do with his post-doctorate project.

My dad stands up when he catches sight of me. He winces at first but then his whole posture changes as his eyeline snaps sideways to Alex. With a deep scowl, he walks towards us. My dad has never been angry or aggravated with me because he’s a placid man, but this man is nothing like the dad I know.

‘Holly? What are you doing here?’ When he asks the question, all he does is stare at Alex. I’d never thought my dad could be condescending, and immediately, embarrassment colours my cheeks.

‘Dad, this is Alex. My friend from school.’ Even despite my dad’s even-tempered nature, I’m not stupid enough to call Alex my boyfriend in front of him.

Alex is about to introduce himself when my dad stops him with a hand up like he’s teaching a kid a lesson. Frowning, I sit up.

‘Aren’t you supposed to be at Victoria’s studying for tomorrow’s maths test?’ He doesn’t acknowledge Alex again; it’s like he’s turned invisible.

To my dismay, apart from an almost imperceptible twitch at the mention of Vicky’s name, Alex looks impassive. I’ve seen him amused, content, cross and even grumpy before, but I’ve never seen him this expressionless. It’s like he’s erected the Great Wall of China in his mind in the last two seconds and nothing will penetrate through it.

‘Vicky had to go to her nan’s. What are you doing here?’ I lean to the side to check out the blonde who’s staring at me with curiosity. When she catches my stare, she busies herself with the menu.

‘Watch your tone, young lady,’ my dad warns, and it’s soout of character, I cringe. ‘The conference was cancelled so instead I’ve had consultations with my undergrads the whole afternoon. It seems we’re both in different places we said we would be, but only one of us has a good reason for it.’

‘Consultations in a café?’ I can’t let it go. Even the idea of what I’m thinking makes me feel sick.

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