Coming Home (Only Time Will Tell #1) (20 page)

After a splash of water on my face at the kitchen sink, I grab my belongings and wait at the end of the garden path for the car, contemplating insuring my own abandoned car for twenty four hours so that I can get out of here rather than it being stood on the driveway.

When he pulls up, he looks at me confused as he takes my bag. ”Are you okay Miss James?”

 “Yes, I’m fine, thank you. I’d just rather stop at the hotel, saves all the hassle getting to and from the party tomorrow.” I Lie.

“Okay, that’s fine. Do you know where it is?”

Oh shoot.
Grabbing my cell, I click the web page back up. I pass it to him and he takes it, leaning into the car to tap it in the sat nav. He hands it back with a smile.
 

He’s moving too slow on this occasion though and I beat him to the car door so he can’t open it for me. He looks at me unimpressed but I just wink and smile mischievously. “I don’t need this fancy behavior. They’re Bentleys, I’m a Mondeo… got it?” I try and joke hoping to hide my internal war.

“Very well, Miss James.”

“It’s Cat.”

He tips his hat as we both get in.

I stare out the window, looking at everything in amazement, like it’s the first time I’ve laid eyes on it. I guess I missed this place more than I realized—it’s a little bit of home. Half my blood may lay here, the other half and my heart lives in the States.

We pull into the car park, as close to the door as possible. I get out and head to the boot of the car. Peter beats me this time though, I was distracted by searching the area, checking to see if anyone was here arranging the room for tomorrow. They weren’t.

I go to take my bag off of him, but he declines.

Throwing my hands in the air I walk into the hotel reception and check in.

Handing me my key card I again go to take the bag, again, he declines.

I follow the directions to my room and I’m only allowed to take my bag once we get to the door.

Walking in, I feel suffocated, not because the room’s small, but because it’s decor makes it cozy and warm. Add that to the heat, it’s like walking into a sauna.

After unpacking, locating the A/C and bathing, I crawl under the duvet. I fall asleep instantly.

I think everyone has those days where you think you have all the time in the world, only to discover that you’ve got no time at all. I woke really early, or as my Mom likes to call it, “the crack of bod shit,” and decided that it was the perfect time to start my day.

My first stop is to the graveyard.

I call a cab and head straight there, even though it’s not even seven. I’m not wasting any more time. I need to be near him even for a little while.

It’s so peaceful and quiet as I walk along the paths and through the grass. The only sounds around me are the early morning birds and my feet, as they rumple the sunlit blades.

I could walk here in my sleep.

It’s strange to think that a few months back my thoughts were about trying to hate the one person in the world I couldn’t hate and thinking about it now, my heart might have been telling me something. I can’t hate him because this wasn’t his fault.

No matter how many times I sat there and ran my life over, thinking about how much I wanted Kyle with me as I carried Kody’s little, blue casket in to the church; crying like the world depended on my tears to live, over my loss, I couldn’t find it in me to hate him.

Even though he can’t hear me, I stay and talk to him about everything in my life. Things I wouldn’t have told him had he lived, but none the less, I want him to know what has been happening. I tell him about my revelations and how everything feels like it had been pulled out from beneath me when Kyle, his Dad, thought the completely wrong thing about my little shrine to him.

After talking and crying, I get up from the ground to drag myself away from the true love of my life. Staring at his headstone shaped like a teddy bear, I try to think of the time we
did
have together, remembering for a moment what it felt like to hold his tiny little body in my arms as I cooed over him. It’s hard to remember that sometimes, to remember the good when the bad seemed to hang like an anchor around your neck.
 

It takes a lot to make me leave him; I guess I never realized how much my parents did for me when I came here. If it were up to me, I’d have lived in this spot.

The rest of the day seemed to pass by in a huge blur and the time went with it. One minute I’m enjoying a coffee, waiting for my gift to be ready, and the next I’m sitting in the back of a cab wishing he’d put his foot down so that I could get back to the hotel before everyone arrives to start getting ready. Although, I did manage to get my hair done while I was out so that’s one less thing to worry about.

Now, with a couple of hours to go before the reception actually begins, I’m panicking that I won’t be ready, because as I stare at the dress and all the make-up set out in front of me, it feels like a mammoth task to literally paint on a happy face.

Walking around the perimeter of the hotel, I clutch to my purse as the nerves kicks in. No idea why, but I get them, lying thick in my stomach. If I can manage to visit Kody on my own—which has been the first time—I should be able to take over the world, and nothing should be able to destroy me. I make a quick detour into the bar and get a bottle of wine to help with those nerves before I head around to the function room at the back, hoping that the fake face I painted on works.

There’s a crowd of people gathered leading up to the entrance of the room. It takes a moment for me to gather myself as I become invisible among the guests, providing me with a few minutes to make sure that I look okay. Hair is still pinned up in curls at the back of my head, I haven’t scuffed my heels from a normally guaranteed stumble, my red lipstick is still on my lips and not over my cheeks or teeth and the amazing dress, which I adore, isn’t tucked in to my underwear. Always a good start.

The crowd soon thins as the guests enter the room and it isn’t long before the bride, my gorgeous best friend, spots me. Her head cranes to look over everyone’s heads, a huge smile spreading over her face before tugging on her groom’s—my cousin’s—arm. Unlike her, he just rolls his eyes, something I’ve become accustomed to when he sees me. But I don’t take it to heart.

When I get to them, it takes a millisecond for her to launch herself at me and squeeze me so tight that I can barely breathe. “Alice, I need to breathe, it’s not well known but it helps keep people alive,” I joke. “Hope you don’t mind me gate-crashing like this?”

“Not at all,” she says as she steps back and a tear creeps from her eye. “I honestly didn’t know you were coming, who did you tell?”

“My boss,” I laugh. “It was a last minute thing. I needed to come home and visit Kody because of some crap that’s gone on in my life, for one. And two, I was starting to feel bad about missing your day. You’ve been there for me, and I think I owe it to you to be here for your big day.”

“I didn’t have to fly thousands of miles to do that though. You could have just sent a card instead of spending a fortune on a ticket.”

“I didn’t, but that’s a story for another time. I got you a gift, though.” I lift my arm and dangle the gift bag in front of her face. I ended up getting a cute frame that has famous couples throughout time, written in different fonts all over it, except for a space in the middle. In that spot, they customize any couples name in it for you. “It’s not a lot, but it’s something.” I smile.

She takes it and dabs her fingers to catch the tear that rolled down her nose. “Don’t be silly. You being here is enough.”

It’s hard to think that when I met her all those years ago I’d be standing here looking at her in a wedding dress and I would never have expected it to be to my cousin. Small world. “I can see you look happy.” I half-shout over her shoulder to the miserable sod himself. “Don’t tell me you’re regretting it already.”

He looks at me and gives me a little smile. “Definitely not regretting it,” he says as he looks at his bride, who is giving him a questioning look over her shoulder. “It’s just been a long day. I don’t know half the people here and it’s too warm to be wearing this,” he says as he fingers the collar of his shirt.

“You can relax when all the guests arrive though, can’t be too much longer.”

“Here’s hoping,” he mutters, fidgeting in his gray suit.

I don’t blame him though. I’m wearing half the clothes he is and boiling. I thought the dress looked breezy in my wardrobe but now I have it on, it feels suffocating. The lace is only decoration on top of a thicker pale pink material—not breezy at all.

I spend a good hour catching up with my relatives, checking in on everyone and them checking up on me. I don’t give them the low-down on Kyle though, this lot combined are worse than my mother. They knew how heart broken I was. It amazed me that through the years, I never gave them Kyle’s name. I didn’t want them to spit his name in venom, which I wouldn’t have blamed them for doing, but I still couldn’t have hacked that.

Eventually, I find a seat in the corner, gathered with the girls that grew to be my cousins, friends and sisters. I’m with them, laughing and joking over nothing, mainly our own laughs. It’s like a chorus of cackles that seem to be ten times funnier than the conversation itself.

The wine bottles that have been placed on our table throughout the evening so far, thanks to strange men, have been consumed. The cameras have come out, photos have been taken and selfies compared. Comments have also been made on the worst possible shots. The piss has been taken out of me and I feel happy that I got to be a part of this, of today, just me and family.

A waiter comes back over and I feel like getting his name, purely because he’s spent most of the night coming over to place
another
bottle on our table. Sabina turns around smoothing her hair from her face and gives him a quick smile before saying, “I say youth,” being classy as always. “Have you got these on order or something?”
 

His mouth screws up to suppress a smile. “No, Miss. But, we are getting occasional orders to bring you all bottle of wine.”

“Are they from the same person?” Kaidence asks.

“No, Miss. They’re from various people.”

Kacey barks out a laugh and grabs the new bottle and begins pouring. “In that case, pal, keep them coming. Makes for a cheap night.”

God love her. “You happy that you’re getting drunk without spending a penny?” I ask.

“Not only that Kace, but these men could be depending on you becoming as pissed as a skunk to take advantage. Or has that thought not crossed your mind?” Abbey asks sounding as sarcastic as ever.

“Bring it!” she laughs. “They’ll soon be regretting their decision. If they want to send wine, that’s their problem. I am, however, going to drink it as they intended and not think of all the negatives in a situation.”

I turn my attention to the waiter and thank him,
again.
 

Behind me, the whole room falls quiet as the DJ informs the crowd that Aaron and Alice are taking their first dance. We all get up and gather around the dance floor, cameras ready to capture the moment.