Chapter 18
Denny
There are people who take the heart out of you
and there are people who put it back.
— Elizabeth Davi
Mira truly was a thing of beauty. She worked day and night, required minimum maintenance, and was paying herself off more quickly than Denny’s most optimistic predictions.
Grandma had been right to encourage her to make this investment.
Denny was also considering taking over the premises next door, if the nail salon ever decided not to renew the lease.
She could expand the shop or even open a café.
She would need extra staff, but she was confident it’d be a success.
A big smile stretched her cheeks while she cleaned the three free slots she was about to fill.
She was thrilled by Julio’s news: he looked excited and way more serene than he’d ever been with Miriam.
And he’d been impressed when she’d introduced Eris as her girlfriend.
Denny still wasn’t sure how a goofball like herself had scored a baddie like Eris, but who was she to question that?
She had trailed off in the middle of her dissertation about romantic flowers. As usual, she had been rambling about things no one cared about. But Eris had been listening, and not only that.
‘Go on. I was trying to learn.’
So much had been said in between the lines.
Terse. Nonchalant. Matter-of-fact.
Denny wasn’t going to cry for that, not here in the street. Besides, she didn’t have the guts to go upstairs and explain that her eyes were red and puffy because she was happy.
Once the bouquets were settled, she gave all the glass doors a quick wipe, then stood back to take in the empty spots: she’d have to find the time to fill them in the afternoon: a large chunk of Mira’s sales came from night purchases.
The lights were already off inside. She turned the ‘We’ll be back at 2:30 PM’, then stood back to decide where she could put the suncatchers.
The sunflower would be perfect for the shop; she wanted to take the lily of the valley home and put it on the kitchen window, where she and Eris could admire it bathed by the morning sunlight.
Or in the bedroom. It’d be so romantic to wake up to the sunrise shining through the colours of the stained glass…
The chime of the door bell startled her.
“Sorry, we’re clo—”
A whiff of vanilla closed her throat, turning her blood to ice. It took her a second to recognise the crisp clack she heard was the door lock snapping closed.
“Not for me, you’re not.”
Sweet and mellifluous, Blake’s voice fluctuated to her like a caress that Denny couldn’t escape.
Blake came forward, the ticking of her heels echoing in the eerie silence of the shop. Her expression promised nothing good.
Denny wanted to tell her to go to hell, send her away, but all her body could do was tense and freeze like a deer in the headlights.
“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?” Blake made a big show of fanning herself. When she was right in front of Denny, she tugged at her scarf until it slipped off, exposing a nasty bruise around her neck. A devious smirk stretched her lips. “Want to guess who did this?”
Denny’s heart sank. It was easy to make out the uneven print of a hand in the purple stains: a left-handed aggression.
“I think she liked it.”
“Not my Eris,” Denny whimpered, but there was only so far she could hide behind denial.
She had seen glimpses of Eris’ anger issues and, with no one to stop her, it was a miracle she hadn’t done much worse.
Denny didn’t need to imagine what Blake had told her to incense her: she had the whole conversation saved on her phone.
“Not my Eris,” Blake mocked her in a whiny childish voice. She moved a step forward. “Why don’t you call her back here? We’ll show you what a good necklace her hand makes.”
Back here. Blake knew Eris had just left. She’d been watching them, waiting to get Denny alone. Surely sneaking into a closed shop would be enough proof for a restraining order.
“Perhaps,” said Blake, twirling a curl of Denny’s hair between her fingers, “I should show these pretty bruises to the police... Wouldn’t want your rabid lapdog to attack someone else.”
Denny desperately hung on to a thin thread of self-control to keep the fear from creeping into her expression. She couldn’t let Blake see her waver. This was the last thing Eris needed: with her record, this was a very serious threat.
“Are you blackmailing me?”
Blake tutted. “If I were you, I’d choose my words wisely. I’m the one in the box seat here, darling.”
Denny swallowed. “You need to move on.”
She tried to turn away, but sharp nails clawed into her arms and before she knew she was colliding with the wall behind her.
“You think I haven’t tried?” Blake snarled. “You’re seared under my skin, Denny. I was a fool to leave you.”
“No,” Denny sneered, fighting the impulse to shove her away and run. She was stronger than this. She wasn’t going to panic. “You did me a huge favour.”
It hit Blake like a slap. Denny saw her wince, almost imperceptibly, and her arrogant mask slipped briefly, betraying something vulnerable and oddly human. It was gone in a blink, reabsorbed into Blake’s customary boldness.
“I know I fucked up, alright? It’s on me, it’s all on me. You hear me?” A cold hand laid on Denny’s cheek, awakening memories of a time when she’d had to fight hard to earn a gesture like that, a kind word, a scrap of affection. “It’s my fault. Can we—”
“No.” Denny tore Blake’s hand off her face and pushed her away, fleeing to the opposite side of the room. She didn’t want Blake here. It was her safe haven, her place. She wouldn’t let anyone pollute it again.
“What—because of that disfigured cow?” Blake yelled after her. “You could do so much better!”
Denny halted. She was surprised to feel the ice in her veins turn to fire. “Are we talking about the same person?” She cast a sharp gaze back at Blake. “You don’t know her. You’ll never understand why I love her.”
“You thought you loved me. What if you’re wrong about her, too?”
“No, Blake. I didn’t just think I loved you. But the woman I loved didn’t exist.”
“I can be that woman! Give me another chance, Denny…”
“Give it a rest.”
“All I’m asking for is one date, just you and me.
To talk it out.” Blake approached, tried to take Denny’s hands, but Denny backed away until she bumped into the glass of the refrigerated display.
“Perhaps,” crooned Blake, stroking her neck, “you could convince me not to have your little hooligan arrested...”
A needle of fear pieced Denny’s chest. She knew where this was going and didn’t like it, nor could she fathom why Blake wanted her back so badly after dumping her and never looking back.
Denny had been the crestfallen one, the one who’d cried herself to sleep for weeks, wondering what she could have done to prevent the breakup, to make Blake want to stay…
There was a part of her which still hadn’t fully healed from that.
“Please,” she begged with a bleeding heart. “Please, Blake, leave me alone…”
“Not until you love me again.”
All Denny knew next was that she couldn’t breathe.
Every inch of her body was screaming for rebellion.
Her arms were trapped between herself and Blake in a vain attempt to protect herself.
She was much stronger than Blake and could’ve easily overpowered her, but her limbs had gone numb.
It was still engraved in her memory, the morbid relief she would feel in getting kissed like this after days of silent treatment, the instant elation it used to give her…
She was so ashamed.
Eris.
What would Eris think?
Denny would never be able to kiss her again, not now that she felt so unclean…
The pain in her chest spiked. It was like her ribcage was collapsing, crushing all the air out of her.
Someone shouted. In a blink it was all gone: Blake, the kiss, her perfume…
Through the shrill ringing in her ears, Denny heard screams. Her blurred sight was giving her vertigo.
“Get out! Get the fuck out of here before I fucking murder you!”
Eris.
Eris.
No.
No…
“Easy, kitty,” Blake’s voice purred, far far away.
“If you come near her again—”
“Oh, don’t worry: I have a feeling she’ll be the one coming to me.”
A loud clack. The trill of the bell. The door slamming.
Denny grimaced at the iron taste in her mouth. She blinked through the dizziness, her sight slowly coming back. A pair of frowning blue eyes appeared in front of her.
“Eris,” she rasped, not even sure it was loud enough to hear. “It’s not—”
Strong hands ripped her away from the refrigerator and held her up before her knees gave out.
She clung to Eris’ arms, fighting to keep her face into focus as she got spun around.
She fell back on something, realising it was the counter only when her fingers clamped around its edge for support.
She was still struggling to breathe, crushed by the rage Eris radiated.
“She kissed me! I didn’t—”
The same strong hands closed around her face, firm but delicate, and Denny could finally see those blue eyes clearly up close: the rage was there, wild and seething, but it faded to cautious concern as they lay on Denny.
“It’s okay, Sunshine,” Eris whispered, tracing soothing arcs on Denny’s cheeks. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.”
“I— I couldn’t—”
“Denny.” Eris’ grip grew tight enough to hurt. “Look at me: I know, I believe you. You hear me? I believe you.” Still gasping for air, Denny hung on to those words like a drowning man to a lifebuoy. “Breathe. Can you do that for me?”
Denny tried, but her lungs weren’t answering her commands to expand.
“I—” I can’t. I can’t…
“Breathe.” Eris took Denny’s hands, brought them to her own chest, and let the air in and out slowly. “With me, c’mon.”