“I know,” he said. “I know you would’ve tried.”
“So, why?” I pushed again, and my tears were streaming. “Why the hell did you leave?”
He took a breath, and his tears were streaming too as he gathered his voice to speak.
“Because she was pregnant,” he said, and his words were choked. “My God, Anna. She was fucking pregnant.”Chapter TwentyLucasTen Years AgoThree weeks didn’t sound all that long, but it would be. I’d miss her like hell.
She’d been struggling with stress for a few months, that pissing job and that jackass boss of hers putting so much pressure on her, having her working late every night and so wound up with deadlines that she was barely sleeping.
I’d hoped that requesting a whole chunk of time out like that would have them saying it was unviable and she’d have to make the choice to hand in her resignation, but they didn’t. They’d been working her so bloody hard that she’d barely taken any annual leave, so there was a whole stack of days backed up to use.
So use them she did.
I’ve never been a fan of New Age bullshit. Anna was one of these meditation and visualisation and dream interpretation types who believed in the universe mapping out a road ahead. Whatever.
She stopped at the Neptune fountain in the centre of town every time we passed the thing, pulling a coin from her purse and tossing it in with a wish.
Every single time she would ask if I’d make a wish alongside her, and every time I replied with the same statement.
“The universe isn’t responsible for my road ahead, Anna. I am.”
Yes, I fucking was.
And responsible for the mistakes I made along the fucking way.
I’d waved her off from the platform with a thousand kisses and a lurch in my gut. She’d mouthed love you before she disappeared from view and I’d mouthed the same right back.
That first afternoon was boring. I flicked through TV channels and tried to flick through a paperback when they didn’t hold my interest, but still I was bored.
I didn’t drink all that much around Anna, I didn’t head out and hit club nights every weekend until I was staggering home, like I had so much of the time before we’d got together. A couple of glasses of wine while we were talking about our day while we made dinner. A shot of whisky before bed when we’d had a particularly crazy fuck fest of an evening, but nothing more than that.
I figured it would be a good time for a splurge, and called up some friends and hit the town. We trekked around a few bars and I downed the beers and laughed the laughs and started up on the shots. I messaged Anna from the bar at Casey’s Casino down on Broad Street, telling her how much I fucking loved her, and then necked back a couple more whiskies.
I think it was at Casey’s we first met some more of our friends out on the town. I didn’t know them so well as the others, they were mainly Dave and Kyle’s regular hang out girls. There was Dawn Richards, and Yasmin Boyle and Hannah Ames.
And Maya Brooks.
There was Maya Brooks standing there at the bar with a large glass of white in her hand.
I barely spoke to her, keeping my laughter on Dave and Dawn for the most of it, but those shots kept on coming. We moved onto Bar Royale down the street and I could barely walk straight.
I think that’s when Maya first giggled and came up to my side to keep me steady.
She smelt like Anna.
Same perfume. Black cherry and sea.
“Where’s your sweetheart?” she asked, as if she’d read my mind, and Dawn answered before I could.
“She’s up in Perth at that twenty-one day retreat. Sounds fucking ace.”
“Right,” Maya said, and I should have registered the smirk sooner.
I didn’t. I was already too fucking gone.
There was already another triple shot waiting for me at the bar at the Ocean, courtesy of Dave. I looked at it through hazy eyes and should have opted for a taxi home.
I didn’t think Maya was that close to me, just hovering. I didn’t really notice her looking at me, just kept on laughing with the guys and checking my phone for messages from Anna.
I knew they’d taken hers off her at this bloody retreat thing, but still I kept checking it, and still there was nothing.
Another triple shot and it was madness.
I remember heading to the toilet and propping myself against the wall on the way, and then it all went blank. Blank until Dave was slapping me on the back goodbye and dropping himself into a taxi and Maya was clinging onto my arm and saying we’d share a ride in the next one.
She pulled a small bottle of whisky from her handbag in the backseat as we were setting off, and I remember laughing as I took it after her, swigging some back.