20. Ford
Ford
Ford stood on the doorstep of Sie’s townhouse. He knew he shouldn’t be there. His emotions were still all over the place, but once he had her address, he couldn’t stop himself.
He lifted his hand to press the doorbell, then dropped it again.
What the hell was he doing here?
What should he say to the woman who haunted him for sixteen years?
The wedding ring on his right hand glinted in the light. He snatched it off his finger and stuffed it into his pocket.
Reaching out again, he firmly pressed the doorbell.
As he stood waiting, a kookaburra began to call, jangling his already frayed nerves. He didn’t miss those stupid birds; they were too bloody loud. He turned to glare at the bird, certain it was mocking him for being on the doorstep of the woman who left him.
“Ford.” A breathy voice exclaimed behind him.
Turning slowly, he faced Sie—and started, as for a moment he thought he was going to see his Sie, the girl with long black hair and raccoon eyeliner. Instead, he saw a woman, pushing her glasses back up her nose, blinking at him in surprise as she shoved her messy blonde curls out of her face.
She was sweating, her t-shirt clinging to her, and her shorts, which looked like ones she would only wear around the house, showed an expanse of smooth legs.
He didn’t speak, only stared at her. Taking in the one person he'd thought would love him forever, but instead vanished without a trace.
The time ticked by, the kookaburra took up its call again, and still, they gazed at each other.
Sweat trickled down Ford’s brow from the hot sun, but he didn’t move. If he moved, he would break whatever spell existed in this moment between them, and he would have to go back to hating her.
“Ford,” Sie said on a whispered breath.
Ford took a stumbling step backwards. He needed to leave. He shouldn’t have come here to torture himself. He should have just phoned her.
“Ford.” Sie stepped forward as he retreated. “What are you doing here?”
Shaking his head, he began to turn away from her, but froze when she touched his shoulder.
HOME.
The word resonated through his mind at the feel of her hand. His gaze dropped to it—to the same hand he’d held a million times, the same hand he’d slipped a wedding band onto and vowed to never love anyone else.
His heart sank to see her bare ring finger. But what did he expect? That she would still be wearing his ring after sixteen years.
Shaking his head to clear it, he stepped away from Sie. He couldn’t think when she touched him.
“I came to talk.”
“Okay.” Sie folded her arms defensively across her chest.
Ford stared at her helplessly. The truth was, he had no idea what he wanted to say.
“Afternoon, Mai,” a man called out.
Sie’s head swung left, and she answered, “Afternoon, Steve. How are you going?”
“Fine. Is everything okay here?” He gestured to Ford, who hadn’t been able to stop the glare that tugged at his eyebrows for the man talking to his woman.
Shit, Ford breathed deeply. Not his woman, and the fella was at least seventy-five and highly unlikely to be a threat to his relationship with Sie.
For fucks sake. He caught himself again. There was no relationship with Sie. He needed to get a grip.
“Good. Who is this young man?” Steve questioned.
Sie hesitated before replying, “This is Graham. He’s an old friend.”
Graham? Ford blinked a couple of times. It had been years since anyone had used his actual first name. Why was she calling him Graham?
“Your friend looks just like the lead singer from Midnight Thunder.” Steve peered at him harder.
“He does, doesn’t he?” Sie smiled, but Ford could tell how much of a strain it was for her to do.
“I nearly had a palpitation. I thought you had Ford standing on your doorstep. I thought to myself that maybe you met him at the concert.” Steve stepped over so he was right against the waist-high fence that separated their gardens.
“No. I told you, I was working in the first aid tent, not galivanting with a rock band.”
“Shame. While I was up in the nose bleeds, it was fun to imagine you meeting the band.” Steve stared harder at Ford, who dropped his gaze.
Sie clearly didn’t want her neighbour to know who he was.
“Steve’s a big Midnight Thunder fan. He got tickets to both shows in Burra Creek,” Sie said.
“And I got one for you as well, Mai.” Steve turned his attention to Ford and added, “She told me it wasn’t her taste in music. Which is a total lie, I hear her playing Midnight Thunder all the time.”
“Steve!” Sie’s cheeks flamed.
“Really?” Ford asked. He couldn’t help it; a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Yeah. She sings along as well,” Steve said. “She’s got a great voice; she should have been a singer.”
“Steve. Have you been listening at my windows?” Sie shoved her curls back again.
“No! Well, not purposely, but when you sing, I know it’s going to be a good day.
The first time I heard you, I thought it was on a record.
Then you walked out of the back door with a basket of laundry, singing your heart out.
To be honest,” Steve leaned closer to the fence, “I was shocked it wasn’t Sie, that girl they used to have.
Your voice is more mature, but it has a lot of the same qualities she did when she sang backing vocals. ”
Ford stepped toward the fence. It appeared that Sie lived next door to a mega fan. “Really?”
“Absolutely. I hear her all the time, and she’s playing her guitar again. When she first moved in two years ago, she barely played. But now not a day goes by where I don’t get to hear her wonderful music.”
Sie flushed redder. “I just strum. I’m hardly a pro.”
Steve scoffed. “Our walls are thin, and my living room is against yours. I can hear you play. It makes an old man very happy to listen to such a talented young lady.”
“She could have been a pro,” Ford said quietly. He didn’t look up but felt Sie’s gaze swing to him.
“I agree, young man. And I have to say, your resemblance to Ford is quite remarkable.”
“Right, Steve. We’ve got to get on. Great chatting. I’ll bring you some dinner over later.” Sie grabbed hold of Ford’s sleeve and tugged him toward her front door.
A jolt of electricity shot up his arm, and he couldn’t stop himself. He adjusted Sie’s grip so she held onto his hand.
Her eyes snapped back to him, and she opened her mouth, but anything she might have said was interrupted by Steve, calling after them.
“Thanks, Mai. I washed your plate from yesterday.”
Sie looked back. “Thanks, Steve. I’ll see you later.” With a final tug, she towed Ford in through the front door and closed it behind them.
The silence of the house rang in his ears. He should let go of her hand and step away from her, but it was the first time since she’d left that he’d felt peace and that things in the world were right again.
“That’s Steve. My neighbour,” Sie said quietly and much to Ford’s relief, she didn’t try to pull her hand away from his.
“Yes. I gathered that. He seems to be a big fan of Midnight Thunder.”
“He is. I can almost guarantee that he’ll be back in his house, Googling you and will be knocking on the door when he realises your first name is actually Graham, and he has another look at some photos of you.”
“It must be a little awkward for you.”
Sie shrugged. “Not really. No one had any reason to associate a doctor called Maisie Jones with a guitarist called Sie Harrington.”
“Until you sing. He picked up on your voice as easily as I did.” Ford didn’t know what possessed him; he tugged on her hand, so she had to step closer to him.
“Yeah.” Sie wasn’t focused on him; she was looking over his shoulder at the front door.
“Sie,” his whispered voice had her gaze snapping to his.
As he stared into her eyes, he couldn’t recall anymore why she wasn’t in his arms where she belonged.
He glanced at her mouth and saw her nervously moisten her lips. That was it for him; his lips crashed into hers, and he kissed her. Yanking her into his arms as he did.
Sie fit in his arms perfectly, like she always had, and she clung onto him. The longer they kissed, the more his rational brain came back online.
What the fuck was he doing? Kissing her like they were still in love.
He shoved her away and took a step back, wiping a hand over his mouth.
Panting for breath, he watched Sie. She was breathing as hard as him, and her trembling fingers touched her lips.
“Fuck,” Ford muttered.
Sie stepped further away from him, her eyes dropping to the floor. “What did you want, Ford?”
“Why did you leave?” He threw the words at her. His anger crashing over him like a tidal wave.
“I told you. I was a stupid kid. I thought I was doing the right thing. Then time slipped away.”
“You could have contacted me at any time. At least let me know you were alive.” His voice rose as his hurt welled up.
“I could have,” Sie said softly.
“I obviously didn’t mean anything to you,” Ford spat. “We should add actress to singer, as you sure fooled me while you pretended to be in love with me.”
Sie shook her head. “You know that’s not true.”
“You could have fucking fooled me. I would’ve moved heaven and earth to find you. And you knew where I was the whole time.” Ford’s voice cracked. “Looks like you might be lying to yourself as well as me.” He began pacing in her small hallway, running his hand through his shaggy hair in agitation.
“No, Ford,” Sie whispered.
He scoffed and mimicked her, “No, Ford. What happened to you? When did you become this meek little mouse? Or is that who you actually were, an actress playing the rock chick, when all along the real you was a coward?”
Even as he spat the words out, he felt a twinge of regret. He didn’t want to accuse her of never loving him. He wanted everything that happened between them to have been real, even if it broke his heart.
Sie’s head snapped up, fire blazing in her eyes. “Fuck you,” she bit out.
“Ohh, boo hoo,” he sneered. “Have I upset you?”
“I was a fucking child. My whole world had shattered. I made the most stupid decision I have ever made in my life. I am fucking sorry. You can choose to believe me or not, but I know my truth.” She jabbed a finger to her chest. “You were the love of my fucking life. And I threw it away. How do you think I felt? Do you know what it was like, seeing you everywhere? The TV, the internet, posters—everywhere?”
“It’s your fault,” he shot back.
“I know that,” she snapped. “I fucking hate myself for it. And I know you hate me. So what are you doing here? What are you trying to achieve, apart from making it worse for both of us? I’m alive.
Me saying sorry will never be enough, so what the fuck do you want from me?
” Sie’s chest heaved as she yelled at him.
“You don’t get to shout at me.” Ford pointed his finger at her.
“What do you want me to do? You call me a meek mouse when I take your anger, and I’m not allowed to shout. What do you want from me, Ford?”
“I don’t know.” Ford deflated slightly.
Shit, what was he doing?
He kissed her.
He mocked her.
He shouted at her.
What the hell was he doing?
“You don’t know? You come to my house, and you don’t even know what you want.” Sie stepped away from him.
“Sie I—”
“Ford. I can’t change the past.” She reached up and brushed at a tear that had escaped from her eyes.
That small gesture stripped away more of his anger. He didn’t want to make her cry. He never wanted to make her cry.
“You ruined my life,” he murmured.
Sie let out a short laugh. “You give me, the memory of me, too much power. You are one of the most successful men on this planet. Your career reached the stratosphere. Do you really think your life was ruined?”
Ford opened his mouth; his reflex was to tell her yes. Every bad thing that happened was due to her.
But was it?
Was she the one who picked up the bottle of whiskey and drained it dry?
Was she the one who forced the drugs onto him?
Or did he pick them up as a way to cope with his own unhappiness?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can say it a million times. But it means nothing unless you’re willing to believe me.”
“I—” Ford didn’t know any more what he wanted to say.
He shoved his hands into his pockets to stop himself from grabbing her and pulling her into his arms.
He wished he hadn’t let his anger take him over.
He wished he was still kissing her.
Shit, he pulled his hands out of his pockets and raked his fingers through his hair.
He shouldn’t have come here. What was he thinking?
“I need to go.” Spinning around, he strode for the door. Grabbing the handle, he yanked it open.
When he walked away from her, he didn’t look back, just like she hadn’t looked back when she walked away from him.