Lost Days (Four Days Book 4) Page 9

  Aaron has always been a presence in our house, like one of the family. He and Patrick have always been friends. It was easy to make friends in the neighborhood where we lived as we all lived in similar conditions, which were precarious and difficult and he and his sister ended up having to fend for themselves at an early age. Aaron helped Rain grow up, study and build a future while he was busy working three jobs to keep them going.

  Patrick went to go to live with them when he was still a kid and he has also always worked to support himself and help us out.

  My real father took off when I was still a child and I remember very little of my life with him. I prefer not having anything to do with him. He’s not a man the word “father” is best used to describe. There were some hard years. My ma had to keep the family going all on her own, and then, luckily, she met Carl, a good man whom I have considered my father for many years. Alongside my mother, he has always supported me and I never went without. Neither my brothers or I lacked anything, even if we were never well off financially. The boys helped me to study and I am trying to pay them back by making them proud of me and trying to earn a little extra from my job, so as not to continue to be a burden for them. After all, there are six of us children and it’s not easy to maintain a family like that. Even if things did improve with Carl, Patrick has always continued to help us, as well as paying for my tuition.

  As a child, I used to paint the walls of our house with my hands. The proof can still be found in several rooms. Then, I took to painting on paper and canvas. I’ve always had a passion for colors. I adore them. I enjoy surrounding myself with their light and different shades and tones. Carl allowed me to use the basement as my own personal studio and I was able to express myself down there, freeing my colorful soul and my world that was made up of unicorns and rainbows.

  Going to class, working and colors, my days are built on these foundations.

  I’ve just got a few last exams to pass before earning my degree in Art History. It took me longer than planned because of work and yes, I am aware that graduates in Art don’t have the same employment opportunities doctors do, but I’m sure sooner or later I’ll be able to find something.

  It’s my dream.

  And I like dreaming.

  So what, I’m a dreamer. And I’m young and free to do what I want. I’m lucky, because despite the difficulty my family has gone through, they’ve always helped me to be what I am, to follow my dream and not let me get beaten down. One day, I’d like to teach Art at school, maybe to children, but without ever giving up my own desire to paint for myself.

  My hands and clothes are constantly stained with color and sometimes I’m not even aware that I spend all night in the dim light of my studio, risking damaging my sight. I can’t help it.

  It’s what I love doing.

  I firmly believe in destiny, in fate, in lucky meetings and coincidence.

  I also believe in love.

  It’s the engine that keeps this world moving.

  I believe in the white knight and happily ever after.

  Aaron is right, I do still believe in fairy tales: the trouble is that I want to believe it and I don’t want to start settling for reality.

  I don’t want to be just a distraction for him, something momentary and easy.

  I want to be something much more than that.

  I’ve seen him go to the wire for his family, his friends and for everyone in these years. I’ve seen him deal with some heart-wrenching blows without ever giving up. I have admired him, watched him from afar and dreamt of him.

  My brother’s friends have always been a fixture around our house. They’re good kids who sometimes let their negative sides be seen, but they are always kind spirited and ready to lend a hand.

  And they’re also handsome, I won’t lie to you. But I’ve always had eyes for him.

  I don’t know when it started, when I realized that I was in love with him. In the beginning, I thought it was just a teen crush. Some girls hang posters of their favorite band on the bedroom walls and dream about kissing the singer. Others watch the same film over and over with the same actor and he becomes her savior from this big bad world. I had his picture hidden away in my diary, which I guarded jealously. Every night before going to bed, I pulled it out and touched it. He’s always had an imposing, robust constitution, a face with sharp features and expressive green eyes, like Rain has, in which I would have gladly gotten lost without ever coming back.

  As the years passed my crush grew into something more. I would still blush when he spoke, but I started to look back at him when he looked at me and I didn’t lower my eyes in his presence.

  I always tried to sit next to him at the table when he ate at our house or I’d try to sit in the floor next to him when we’d all watch a movie together. A couple of times, I touched his fingers when we both went for the popcorn at the same time. He’d look at me and smile and I melted like snow in front of him.

  What I felt for him grew day by day with no way of avoiding it, and I was unable to stop it, even if I tried.

  I started going out with a few guys to try and get some kind of reaction out of him, but the only thing I got was Patrick’s ire. My brother Patrick, who thought no one was good enough for me.

  Then, there was this whole thing with the music. The guys were starting to be recognized in the streets and the girls were going nuts over them. Patrick was a bit of an asshole and took advantage where he could, but the others weren’t like him. Especially Aaron. They came from a tough place and they were grateful for every moment, every new breakthrough, every new album sold.

  Aaron used to be happy in those days. And I lived in the reflection of his happiness. His smile opened my heart and made my legs quiver.

  He’d stop by our house frequently. Despite the fact that their lives had changed so quickly, the boys were all connected to my family. He spent a lot of time with us. He talked with me, smiled at me, made fun of me and I, silly fool that I was, hoped he felt something for me.

  I’ve always been in love with him and no one has succeeded in replacing him. Years have gone by without changing that situation. And now, after having touched him and kissed him, after having fallen asleep by his side, I’m convinced more than ever that no one ever could take his place.

  Aaron will always be the one.

  The one I’ll never have.

  —

  AARON

  “This tie is choking me.”

  “You can make an effort for one day.”

  The wedding is tomorrow and the pub will be closed for three days for the occasion. That’s a good thing, we all needed to take a break.

  This morning, we’ve all got to try on our outfits for tomorrow. Jay, Liam and I are all groomsmen and are wearing matching suits—dark, elegant and oppressive.

  I look at myself in the mirror as Jay and Liam do the same, while I try to loosen the knot in this tie that is trying to lynch me.

  “Dude, calm down. You’re not the one getting married!” Jay teases and if we weren’t friends he’d make a nice therapeutic punching bag for me.

  “I’m not wound up, I just can’t stand this tie.”

  “The tie is not the problem,” he says in his usual condescending tone.

  I know full well that it isn’t about some damned tie. It’s this situation that I’m not able to get out from under and that’s oppressing me and taking my breath away and it’s getting worse with every hour that passes.

  I see myself in the mirror and I don’t like at all what I see. I’m about to go to a wedding and it looks like I’m heading to a funeral. My eyes are sunken and lifeless and my coloring is pale.

  What is happening to me?

  I can’t stop thinking about what I did to Ciara and how I treated her. I would deserve it if Patrick was to choke me with his hands.

  Ciara. She was a baby who was just learning how to walk when I met her. She was playing in the garden with her brothers in the grass and covered in mud.

>   I saw her grow up and become a curious child, full of life. A teenager with a well-defined personality who was always joyful. Open to the world, curious to discover what she could and immerse herself in its colors. She’s been painting forever—with her hands, brushes or her whole body, judging by the paint stains she always seems to have.

  I’ve always adored this about her.

  Sure, I noticed how she’d blush around me and I told myself it was a passing fancy, a teenage crush. It was pretty normal, she saw us at her house all the time: we were her brother’s friends.

  A friend, sure. I have been and remain a friend.

  I have walked a very careful path between us, I have always treated her as a sister and not only because Patrick forced us all make that stupid promise of ‘not getting involved with his sister’. I did it because there are twelve years’ difference between us and I had to put some distance there that would not permit her to hope for anything more than friendship.

  Then she started going out on dates and I started feeling something new: blind rage that would see me take a Hurling stick to any asshole who got close to her. Luckily, Patrick was there to do the dirty work and I could just sit back in silence, hoping that he’d be the one to put the brakes on her ill-judged relationships.

  I’ve seen her transform herself before my eyes into a beautiful woman who is sure of herself. I admit it, I’ve thought about the curves of her body under those colorful outfits more than once. I shouldn’t have done, I know, but they were just fantasies that couldn’t hurt anyone.

  I was aware of the fact that we were suspended in mid-air, kept apart by a thin line separating friendship from something deeper that never should have existed, and not only because of my relationship with her brother.

  I never really thought about it, never about her in that way. If I were to tell you the truth, I’ve never really thought of anyone in that way.

  It’s just not me. I wasn’t that kind of guy and am still not that kind of guy.

  I had a past that needed to be buried deep underground and I buried my heart along with it. For years I’ve set aside my needs and feelings for the benefit of others. It’s been a big success until now.

  And now what do I do that it’s no longer working? Why am I not able to go back to the shadows? Why am I only now starting to become aware of this loneliness in my soul?

  I let my defences down for one second and it was fatal. I was weak and I let her look inside of me, and she saw something that was asking to be freed.

  My fantasies came tumbling back to life and my blood started running in my veins again, bringing oxygen to my body, my head and this stupid broken-down heart.

  I can’t give in to this sentimentalism. I need to isolate it once again and turn off this desire that is flaring up within me, dangerously and out of control.

  I am not the one for her. I never could be.

  I am thirty-four years old, I’m dark and cynical. I’m a walking disaster. There’s not much out there for me in terms of a future. All I can do is go on taking care of others, resolving other people’s problems and finding ways out. I don’t have time to think of anything else.

  It’s too late for me.

  She is so beautiful and sunny, with her whole life in front of her. It would be a crime for her to waste her time on me. She shouldn’t set aside her dreams and ambitions to worry about an unworthy soul like mine.

  Because I know that she would. I know that she would give me everything that she has, bringing air and light to my world, but at the same time causing irreparable harm to hers.

  No. I can’t let her do this to her life. I can’t drag her into the darkness with me.

  She’s a shining light and has to go on being so. She has to go on dreaming and I certainly won’t be the one to wake her up and face hard reality.

  13

  CIARA

  “God, Erin, you are looking radiant. Does my brother have any idea how lucky he is?” I say to Erin who is dressed and ready to marry that ass who is my brother Patrick.

  “Sure hope so.” She smiles at me, glowing. There’s not even a moment of hesitation in her behavior. She is full of joy, the picture of felicity.

  “The guys are downstairs and they’re waiting on us. We’ll go in separate cars,” Rain announces. She is also quite stunning in her bridesmaid’s gown. “Your dad is here and he’s a bit emotional,” she adds, smiling and caressing Erin’s shoulder.

  “I’m ready,” she says, taking in a big breath. “Go on, I’ll see you there.”

  We hurry to gather our things and our bouquets, which the florist delivered this morning. It’s time to go, the wedding is about to be celebrated and I’m all wound up and bordering on a panic attack although I’m not the one who has to do the deed.

  How can Erin be so calm?

  We open the door and let Erin’s father in, leaving them alone for a few minutes.

  Rain goes down first followed by Alex. The boys are waiting for us at the bottom. I must say, they’re looking elegant, impeccable and super cool.

  I can say that, can’t I? What’s wrong with saying it?

  Liam is handsome and intriguing with that tough-guy look he has, covering up a whipped-cream heart. Rain hugs him and kisses his beard gently. He says something to her which makes her laugh nervously and I’m sure it’s something that couldn’t be repeated out loud.

  Alex comes down the staircase like a goddess. She’s beautiful and seems like she’s in good health. I’ve seen an improvement in her recently and I hope things will continue in that vein. Jay opens his arms and she runs to him. He kisses her on the forehead before taking a moment to admire her. She smiles and he does the same, showing off his delicious dimples which manage to be both sweet and sexy simultaneously. He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life.

  The four of them grab their keys and walk out of the front door, taking their things with them.

  I inhale and go down the last few stairs. I’m holding the banister tightly because I’m not very confident in these unfamiliar heels.

  I watch my feet so as to avoid tripping when I smell his unmistakable cologne and I raise my eyes to meet his.

  What I see takes my breath away and makes my legs tremble so that I have to brace myself against the banister to avoid rolling down the rest of the stairs like a jackass.

  Aaron is standing up straight with his head held high. He’s trimmed his beard and has his hair brushed back, although there are a few rebellious strands that will not be contained. His eyes are big and luminous and that suit, God… Did they just sew it on him?

  I just got finished saying that Jay was the most handsome man I’ve ever seen and maybe it’s true. But Aaron…

  Aaron is something more.

  Aaron is pure perfection.

  My personal perfection.

  I continue my descent of the stairs, confident despite the fact that my knees are trembling like jelly. As I get to the last step he offers me his hand to help me and I take it, smiling in embarrassment. He pulls me against his body and gently kisses my cheek before stepping back to have a better look at me.

  And what he is telling me now, without saying a word, is nothing like fraternal words, I would bet my life on it.

  Aaron wants me.

  I just have to convince him that he does.

  —

  AARON

  The girls walk down the stairs to join us. We’re already late and need to get a move on. The wedding is going to be held in Meath and it’ll take us at least half an hour to get there.

  Rain and Alex come down the stairs first. My sister is looking radiant in her tailored gown with her hair up in a soft braid which rests on her shoulder. Her eyes are like mirrors and she has a full smile that accentuates her happiness, repaying me for years of suffering and all of the pain that went with it.

  Yes, Rain is happy and I can’t do anything but thank Liam for it.

  Alex is certainly nothing less. She’s got what we’ve all gotte
n used to as her natural pallor and she’s always been thin. But she looks healthy and her desire to live is evident every time she looks at Jay and gets lost in him.

  Watching her live here in our midst is a miracle and Jay knows it. He’s trying to enjoy every moment of this life they have together while not suffocating her with his fears and anxieties about her illness.

  They hurry outside, leaving me alone to wait for the one who I will accompany to the event. I watch them get in the car and wave to them before taking a deep breath and turning to face the staircase where I think I’d like to leave my eyes and whatever else remains of me.

  Jesus.

  I am speechless. I’m breathless.

  She is…perfection.

  She comes down the stairs uncertainly, holding onto the banister and the moment she looks up and meets my eyes, she hesitates for a second and I’m afraid she might actually fall down. But then she gets a a grip on herself, raises her chin, and continues down, seemingly anchored to my eyes which are not capable of hiding what I see and what I feel at this moment.

  She’s wearing the same gown as the other girls were wearing but it has a whole different effect on her. Her shoulders are bare, those wonderful shoulders that I’d like to kiss as long as there is air in my lungs.

  The dress falls along her hips, hugging them and putting them on display, those same hips I squeezed and that made me tremble. Her hair is pulled up but one rebellious strand of hair will not stay put and falls softly onto her shoulder.

  Her eyes are immense and nicely made up, yes, but there’s something there that not even the best make-up artist could create.

  Her eyes are the window to her soul.

  And she’s baring her soul to me.

  I would like to hug her and take care of her for the rest of my life, I swear.

  She steps closer and I hold my hand out to help her down. I have to hide a smirk as I can just about make out the remnants of paint stains on her fingers.