Page 65 of Echoes in the Storm
I slide off the hood with another sigh, unable to hold back my frustration any longer at how quickly this week is passing us by. If Duke notices, he chooses not to say anything, slipping off the side of the hood without a word. We get in the car, the tension from our snatched kisses still thick in the air as I turn the key in the ignition.
Duke slides down the seat as I make my way onto the road, assuming what I’ve come to know as his position: one foot propped on the side of the centre console. He rolls his head over to look at me, but I don’t glance across, watching at him in my periphery instead. If I look at him and catch that smile one more time, I’m liable to cry. Why do I have to find such a perfect guy when he’s got a life elsewhere, when our time together has an expiration date?
I’ve never been one to complain that things aren’t fair, but this right here? It’s so fucking unfair I want to stop the car and shout it from the roof.
“Tell me what it is that got you into theatre.” Duke nudges my leg with his hand, clearly doing his best to break me from my state of self-loathing.
And as much as I hate to admit it, it kind of works. The simple sound of his voice, the soft way in which he shows me he’s genuinely interested in what I have to say—it calms me.
“Mum and Dad,” I say. “They met doing a show for their college. He was crew, and she was the leading lady. The sweet irony is, over the years, the roles reversed—Mum ended up backstage, and Dad took to the spotlight. I grew up running under the feet of their drama club, so it was only natural that I got roped in when I was old enough to sling stuff around.” I glance across at him, hoping that was enough to satisfy his need to break the silence. For once, this chatty girl just wants to wallow in pitiful silence. I’m going to miss this guy, and if simply thinking about how much that is going to hurt pains me like it does now, then how the hell am I going to feel when he actually drives that rat-shit car away for good?
“It’s pretty cool that your whole family is into it.” His eyes wrinkle just the slightest bit at the sides, and I know he thinks he’s got me lured me into more conversation.
The bastard’s right. As morose and crappy as I feel right now, I can’t help it. I’m a conversationalist—it’s what I do.
“Not quite right. Dad doesn’t do it anymore. He gave up about the time they split. Sort of awkward, showing your face in your group of friends wheneveryoneknows the reason for the divorce.” I chuckle as I prepare for the next bit. “He left with his tail between his legs.”
“Why did they split?”
“Affair. There was this woman who came out to our little Podunk town here to fill a vacant spot on the cast. She was from one of the big production houses in town.” I pause to take a breath, the basic thought of that woman making my blood boil. “Anyway, I remember her because her perfume always made me gag; I was about seven at the time. Dad got busted helping her with more than a costume change between scenes, if you catch my drift.”
“That’s pretty shit,” he says.
“Yeah.” I shrug, flexing my hands on the steering wheel. “But better to be confronted with the issue and deal with it than have him sneaking around for years, right? I mean, as much as it hurt to know, I was always thankful that I knew exactly why Jared left. I would have hated for him to get away with it for years, for him to have the chance to waste my life away like that. At least—even though it’s taken me a while to regain myself—I have the chance to move on.”With you.
Duke says nothing, simply staring at me, his hair all messed up where it’d dragged down the seat in his slump. “I guess. Being overseas would mess with my head sometimes, make me wonder what was gong on back at home, you know?”
“You didn’t trust your wife?”
He frowns before looking away. “Yeah, I trusted her. That’s why I felt so shit about still wondering, being jealous like that. It wasn’t fair on her when she never did a thing to give me reason to worry.”
“It must have been hard on her, huh? Having you away for so long?”
“It was hard on both of us.” He falls silent, staring at the road ahead for a while before he continues. “Still, that stuff is in the past. I don’t want to be thinking about it when I’m here spending the day with you.” He reaches across, taking my hand closest to him in his.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I whisper, afraid that if I don’t say it now he’ll never truly know how deeply the thought cuts at me.
“I know.”
We continue on in silence, Duke seemingly lost in his thoughts as he stares out the side window, and me trapped in a battle between wanting to let go of his hand, wanting to cry if I don’t, and wanting to hold on.
The first spots of rain hit the windscreen as I slow for my driveway, a sickness laying root in my gut at the thought that another day is almost at a close. The sickness turns to nausea when we near the house and find a black truck already parked outside.
“Shit.” I stop the car, Duke ramrod straight in the passenger seat beside me.
“Is that who I think it is?”
“Jared.” I pull the keys out as the man in question steps off the porch.
Duke’s out of the car before I can say another word. I scramble to get out, the pace at which Duke strides towards Jared unsettling.
“What are you doing here?” I call out, interjecting before Duke can get a word in edgeways.
Jared eyes Duke from head to toe, and then walks straight past him to meet me halfway as the drizzle turns to rain. “I have a contract for you to sign.”
“For Amanda?”
“Terry.” The arsehole smirks. If Duke doesn’t deck him first, I think I might.