37. Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Harry
It's been nearly a month since she left London and I’ve not heard a word from her. I’ve tried calling, I’ve texted her, but nothing. Brad says she’s been in the club a few times but hasn’t spoken to her. I don't understand. She left, and I was about ready to pack up and go back with her; I am trying to hurry this project up and get back to New York as fast as I can because it’s the only place I want to be right now. Our time together here in London has played on constant loop in my mind. How could she leave without saying goodbye after our last night? How could she be so vulnerable with me and then just vanish? I get she didn’t want to say goodbye, because truthfully, I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage it either, but how can she just ignore me and not speak to me now she’s back? I know we never agreed to anything, but I can’t accept she didn’t feel the shift between us.
It's nearly 4 am here, which means it's 10 pm in New York and The Boardroom will have opened by now. I fire off a text to Ali as I walk through the apartment, quietly closing the door so as not to wake my sister.
Harry
Ali, please, talk to me.
Sliding my phone onto the kitchen island, I flick on the kettle, suddenly having the urge to make some tea.
“Wanna make me one too?” Turning I see my sister, glasses on, hair all mussed up, wearing her pink bathrobe, standing at the opposite side of the island.
“Can’t sleep?”
She shakes her head. “Nope.”
My sister has always had trouble sleeping, especially when things are on her mind and I’m much the same.
“I don’t think I’ll be sleeping either. You want to talk about what’s on your mind?”
She shakes her head. “Not really. It’s the usual.” I nod knowingly. My sister has been through a lot and yet you would never know. She’s a master at hiding how she truly feels, much like someone else I know.
“You want to talk about what’s got you making tea at 4 am instead of collapsing into your bed? Would it have something to do with a pretty blonde that left a few weeks ago and you've been moping around ever since?”
I turn away from the mugs of tea I’m making and look at her. Her brow quirks up, and she gives me a knowing look. “I haven't been moping.”
“Ugh, yeah, you have. I heard you playing Micheal Bolton the other day. No one listens to Micheal Bolton unless they are moping. So come on, tell your little sis all about it.”
I place the mugs of tea in front of us, settling onto the stool opposite her, shrugging off my suit jacket and laying it on the counter. I run a hand through my hair, my throat thickening with emotion as I find the words. “I don’t know, Tor, it’s so fucked up. I don’t even know how to explain it.”
She lifts her mug to her mouth, blowing the hot steam. “Try.”
I let out a long breath. Mentally arranging my thoughts. “So, we were just meant to fool around, you know, hook up—”
“Please spare me the dirty details,” she interrupts, holding up a hand.
“I hated her to start, well, thought I did. She knows how to push my buttons but also how to make me laugh. She’s got an answer for everything and we, I don’t know, bounce off each other. She’s fun, she’s outgoing, but I can’t explain it. There’s something she’s hiding, and I wish she would tell me, and now she’s avoiding my calls and I just… miss her. We weren’t meant to catch feelings but… god, my head is messed up.” I release a frustrated breath and cradle my face.
“Congratulations, you’ve met the female version of yourself.”
I spring my head up. “Excuse me.”
“You two are more alike than you think. You clash. That’s why you have this insane chemistry and it's explosive. You don't hate each other, quite the opposite, I think.”
I let my sister's words sink in. In Paris, it was different. A side of both of us came out, and I said something to her that I have worried was me just getting caught up in the moment, but the way I feel since she’s left, I am starting to think I really did mean every word. No, it’s not easy being around her, it's explosive and heated. She's wild and carefree. She can't be tamed but why should I try to when her untamed ways are the reason, I was drawn to her?
“Maybe. I don’t know. God, this is a mindfuck. I wasn’t supposed to feel anything, you know, and then I end up feeling everything.” Rubbing the back of neck, I sigh. Fuck, my head is a mess.
“We can’t help who we fall for. Look at Mom and Dad, they weren't meant to work, shouldn’t have worked, but they did, and they still do.”
I nod in agreement. My parents had everything against them: age, countries, jobs, family pressure, yet they found a way to make it work.
“Tell her, tell her how you feel.”
“Little problem there. She won’t answer my calls.”
“Then go to New York.”
“I can’t. I’ve got the club and the new bar, and….” I stop, not wanting to say the next part out loud, having never really admitted my real reason for wanting to be in London. My sister.
“Ask yourself. What is more important? This new club or her?”
I don't answer. I just look at my sister and process her words.
“I didn't get a chance to tell the person I loved how I felt, and now I never will.” I watch as my sister’s face contorts as she blinks away the tears that threaten to fall. She doesn't like to cry in front of people, she’s so guarded. I want to get up and hug her, but I know she'll hate that. My heart aches for my sister and everything she’s been through.
“Think about what you want, Harry. Life passes by so quickly. We aren't promised tomorrow. We aren't promised anything. If you feel some type of way for her, don't dick around. Just tell her. I saw how you were when she was here and whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, I can tell she’s your person and if you are here for me, you are wasting your time. I am good, better than good.”
I look at her, giving her a knowing look. Seeing my sister the way she was when we lost Scotty is something I never want to see or let her experience again. I should have stayed with her and helped her through it all.
She picks up her mug of tea and walks past me, patting me on the shoulder. “I am thirty-three, sober and thriving, so you don’t need to be here babysitting me. I know you like to bury your feelings and ignore them, but don’t do it now. Tell her, tell her before you lose her.” She presses a kiss to my forehead and heads in the direction of her bedroom.
I stare at the white marble countertop, dragging my finger along the fine black lines that run through it, my sister’s word going over and over in my head. My phone vibrates and dances across the counter, interrupting my internal battle. Brad’s name flashes across the screen, anxiety pooling in my stomach. He would only call me at this time if it was urgent.
I swipe the phone, pressing it to my ear. “Brad, what’s up?” I ask, my heart hammering in my chest.
“It’s Ali… you need to come home. She needs you.”