Page 4 of Tears of Glass

“You okay?” My throat is so tight it’s hard to squeeze the words out.

His fingers tighten in mine and I won’t let them go until he wants me to.

“Yes. Thanks for being here.”

I smile, although my cheeks ache with the motion. “Always.”

Chapter Two

Nothing could prepare me for the way my fingers shake as I hold the folded piece of A4 and stand in front of Al’s friends to read a poem. No one could have prepared me for the tears that spill openly in front of a packed congregation, or how knowing my dad is out there, sat on a pew, makes my stomach churn. My need to run fights to the death with my need to stay.

Or how I wish, no matter how much I hate him, that Elijah was here holding my hand, watching me with those blues. How just knowing he was here would have filled my limbs with strength and might have stopped my legs from shaking in front of hundreds of people. He was supposed to be here.

But he lied.

And in lying he’s stolen this final moment from Al and I. Whisking away my grief for Al and replacing it with a cold hard stab of bitterness that’s clouding my every thought. Another thing I can’t forgive him for.

Later, when the wake is in full throttle at Al’s favourite pub, and pies, sandwiches, and pints are being passed around; when people are getting more and more inebriated and showing their skin and ink, I slip outside.

My phone has been vibrating throughout the day, but I’ve ignored it since we slid into the limousine. Now, finally by myself, I take a moment and light a cigarette as I duck down the side of the pub and take my phone out of my purse.

Gerard Steers: Faith, how was it? I know I’m not your favourite person right now, but I need to talk to you. Please.

A couple of weeks ago I was so cross with my university lecturer, I swore never to talk to him again. Now, he actually doesn’t seem that bad. Funny how things change.

All I can think of is Elijah’s hands on my skin. The way he owned me. The way he made me shudder and scream his name. The taste of him.

I drag on my cigarette and contemplate the glass of whisky I’ve balanced on the windowsill of the pub. Somewhere in that glass there has got to be a reprieve from the memories and the pain they bring.

My phone goes back into my bag and I glug the amber liquid, wincing as it slips down my throat and burns its way into my chest cavity. That’s good, it will take away the ache from the ink on the flesh above my heart.

“There you are.” Abi’s head pokes down the edge of the alleyway.

I stifle my groan—I can’t seem to catch a break. I just want to be left alone.

“You found me.” I drag on my smoke and then grind it out against the wall of the alley leaving an apt big black scorch mark on the white cladding.

“You okay, Faith?”

I let out a shaky breath. The whisky burns, but it’s not quite hot enough for my liking. It’s not numbing me the way I want it to. It’s making my legs and arms nice and heavy as they rush with that wonderful buzz of alcohol, but it’s not reaching the space under my new ink. “Hunky fucking dory.”

“Are you ready to talk yet?” She comes closer and leans against the wall. Her body is relaxed but I know that expression on her face.

With a negative shake of my head I go to walk past her, but she holds her arm out to block my path. “Please stop, Abs. Come on. You know me better than anyone. I don’t do emotional overspill. So what, someone hurt me. You know it’s not the first time.” I hold her gaze. “It probably won’t be the last. What I don’t need is to air my dirty laundry and hash over it all.”

“So, Eli ended it?”

God, I wish that didn’t hurt so much. I shrug but I stop pushing against her arm. My fight wanes and a terrible pain constricts my chest.

Abi latches on to the crack in my countenance, holding her fingers tight onto my elbow. “So you broke your rule for him, hey? Did you sleep with him more than once?”

I can’t. It hurts. I shake my head and try to pull my arm out of her grip.

“Then what, Faith? Did you fall in love with him?”

A single tear slides down my cheek and she sighs, leaning forward to wipe it away with her thumb. It only makes another tear fall as I remember Eli doing the exact same thing only days ago. He promised to catch all my tears.

“I loved him.”