Luke Adams Boxset 1 Read online

  He started to the bathroom, and since he didn’t shut the door, she stood in the doorway, watching as he brushed his teeth.

  ‘Where have you been? You’re a bit late.’

  ‘It’s Thursday. I go to the gym every week. But you know that! Why all the questions all of a sudden? Don’t you trust me?’

  She bit her lip. ‘You’re normally back by nine.’

  ‘Keeping tabs on me now!’

  ‘No,’ she said slowly, ‘I’m not. I was just interested. You used to be the same too once upon a time.’

  Nick did not reply, but elbowed past, returning to the bedroom, where he sat on the edge of the bed and removed his clothes.

  ‘I’d like us to go out tomorrow night. If I make a booking at a restaurant for eight, will you make sure you get back?’

  A puffing sound escaped his lips. ‘Why tomorrow?’

  ‘It’s ages

  since we’ve been out. And I’d like to spend some time with you. We used to have fun together, remember?’

  He climbed into bed, discontentment written into his face.

  ‘Please.’ She switched off the television. ‘This is important to me. You’re important to me.’

  ‘If I must.’

  Deciding it was the best she could hope for, and no longer in the mood to read, she turned off the light and slid under the bed sheets.

  The gap between them appeared wider than ever. It was a long time since she had fallen asleep in his arms, and even longer since he had gazed at her with an adoring longing and whispered his love. Was he really worth the fight? Her head said no, her heart shouted a resounding yes.

  Half-heartedly, whilst glimpsing periodically at the clock, Stacy prepared herself for her evening out. She had made the booking for eight thirty as she feared Nick would be late home. And she had been right in doing so. He arrived at five minutes to eight without an apology or a smile and stormed up the stairs. Choosing not to argue, and remained as cool as possible, she remained at the bottom and announced they would leave as soon as soon he had changed.

  ‘Do we have to? I’m knackered.’

  ‘Nick … I’ve made a booking.’

  ‘It’s already eight o’clock. They're not likely to keep the table free.’

  She bit her lip. ‘I made it for eight thirty. I thought you’d be late.’

  He appeared at the top of the stairs. ‘I’m not that unreliable. It’s a once off. How dare you make such assumptions!’

  ‘Please Nick, let’s not argue. This is about getting us back on track.’

  ‘On track? What’s that supposed to mean? We’re not kids anymore. I shouldn’t have to bring you chocolates and flowers every day, or waste our money on meals out to prove I care.’

  She headed up the stairs into the bedroom. ‘I’m not asking for chocolates and flowers. I’d just like your company. Why is that so difficult for you?’

  Nick said nothing, slid his arms into a fresh shirt and fastened the buttons. Then he hurried past and started down the stairs. He hadn’t made much of an effort, and hadn’t washed or shaved, or brushed his hair.

  ‘Are you coming or not?’ he said.

  She hurried after him, grabbed her handbag and jacket, and followed him to the car. Their meal was meant to help their struggling relationship, not hinder it, and so she chose to still her voice, believing it was a more positive way forward. Spending the evening with pointless bickering was not what she wanted.

  However, sitting in the confines of the car in silence was not relaxing either. It was where their worst arguments took place, and this time was no different. As soon as they left the estate and joined the main road, Nick questioned her choice of restaurant, and his tone was filled with disapproval. She loved Asian cuisine, and whilst it wasn’t one of Nick’s favourites, neither was it something he hated.

  ‘You’re always getting your way,’ he shouted, ‘how about we do something I like for a change?’

  ‘It was my suggestion to go out. If you want to go to an Italian, you arrange it and book it. We could do it tomorrow if it pleases you.’

  He spun the car onto a country lane, leaving the confines of the city, and heading towards the next town. At the side of the road was a drainage ditch, and at the other side a field of wheat. He was driving too fast and too close. She gripped the side handle, and willed him to slow down.

  ‘I’m not going out again, not tomorrow,’ he said.

  ‘What’s wrong with going out again?’ she said. ‘We’ve done it in the past.’

  ‘What’s wrong? Two nights in a row.’ He stared at her angrily. ‘Are you insane?’

  ‘I get that you can’t stand the sight of me. Even so …’

  ‘That is so childish!’

  ‘You call me childish! You started this bloody argument. Once upon a time, you’d have done whatever to please me. Where’s that Nick gone? The man I fell in love with, the man who used to hurry home from work just to see me.’

  ‘I might ask the same. Don’t think I don’t remember how busy you are. And what about Thursdays? They’re so bloody sacrosanct it’s ridiculous. Remember the time I wanted to take you on a works do and you wouldn’t come? I thought I had a part time girlfriend.’

  She held back her retort, furious with him for mentioning that one time she had refused to go out. They hadn’t been going out for long, and it had been their annual yoga party, and something she had been looking forward to for months. She chose it in preference. She wouldn’t have expected it to be held against her for years to come.

  ‘When I announced I was taking my ex, you moaned and whined … you were like a bloody banshee. It was pathetic. I should have realised back then how you were. I was the bloody fool taking you on.’

  ‘How dare you! Don’t put all this on me! Just don’t!’

  ‘Kirsty isn’t like you. She’s grateful for the things I do.’

  Stacy’s jaw dropped and her face stilled. ‘Who’s Kirsty?

  He stared at the road ahead, driving ever faster, edging closer to the drop at the side.

  ‘Who’s Kirsty?’ she yelled, grabbing his arm and demanding his answer.

  It was enough to cause a slight swerve, and the car careered off the road and plunged into a ditch. Every gasp of air was accentuated, every scream blood curdling and ear piercing, and every tumble and roll an eternity.

  Then silence. Deathly silence. She stared over at Nick, his body was crumpled. She noted the blank eyes and his hair and face smothered in blood, she was stunned was he was dead?

  ‘Nick,’ she whispered. ‘Nick …’

  His eyes opened. His fingers twitched.

  ‘Are you all right? Nick …’

  Silence.

  ‘Talk to me, please.’ Her voice was breaking, her heart thumped, head hammered, all her blood rushed to her skin as she went into a cold sweat. ‘Nick …’

  ‘I can’t feel my legs.’

  Chapter 2

  Waiting in the hospital corridor whilst the consultant spoke to Nick, Stacy’s thoughts were caught in a mêlée. It was implausible to think that those few centimetres separation in the car had made such a huge difference to their injuries, but they had. Whilst she had escaped with nothing more than a few scratches and bruises, Nick suffered a spinal cord injury and had undergone an operation. Only time would show the extent of his recovery. Paralysis was a possibility.

  She breathed tautly, wallowing in a desperate panic, and utter guilt. If she hadn’t demanded they went out for a meal, when Nick was exhausted and bad tempered, the accident wouldn’t have happened. If they hadn’t started bickering, he wouldn’t have mentioned Kirsty. If she hadn’t yanked his arm, he wouldn’t have swerved into the ditch.

  Exhausted, she closed her eyes, rested her arm on the back of the neighbouring chair, and laid her head into the crook of her arm. She whimpered as flashes of the accident continued their torment, her thumping head made her groan, a few distinct thoughts would clear this persistent nightmare.

  Their
lives would not be the same again. How would they ever come back from this? It wasn’t as if they were in a brilliant place to start with, although now their troubles at least had a cause. All the time Nick had spent away from the house, he had been with Kirsty, his lover. How could he have betrayed her so completely? They were meant to be life partners. They were meant to be in love.

  As soon as the anger spread from her heart, she forced it back. In comparison to what she had done, it was insignificant. Nothing could compare to the damage she had caused, something that would change the course of his life. Quite likely, he would lose his job, he would not be able to play sport, and he would not be able to enjoy go-karting. He would be a different man, with the changes remaining with him forever.

  His losses continued to revolve in her thoughts. He would not be able to jump up from the sofa to make a cup of tea. He would not be able to dig their small plot in the garden. He would not be able to take a stroll on the beach or kick a ball with future children. The list was endless. And she hadn’t even started to consider the mental side of his trauma, something she feared would remain with him for months or years.

  Then there were the logistical questions to consider. How long would he remain in hospital? Where would he stay during his recovery? Surely, in the early days, he would need full-time care. Should she quit her job? She may not have the training, or quite possibly the mental capacity, but she had to help.

  He was her responsibility.

  Her body stilled. How would they survive without an income? The government benefits wouldn’t keep them in the style they were used to. It would barely keep them fed, let alone allow them to enjoy other pleasures. Would they have to sell their home and move into council housing? It was a horrifying thought, causing a new surge of panic.

  They would have to cope. They would find a way. That was what people did.

  She leapt from her chair, her face red and crumpled, and her body pounding with regrets. How could this be happening? It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right. She didn’t deserve this … neither of them did.

  Why them? What had they done wrong?

  ‘Stacy?’ a voice said.

  She spun around. It was her mother. She fell into her arms; her body quaking, her breathing rapid, and her tears drizzling down her cheeks.

  ‘Have you heard anything?’ Carol asked, pulling away.

  ‘The consultant’s with him,’ she said, and extracted a tissue from her pocket and dried her nose and eyes.

  ‘Did the operation go okay?’

  ‘As far as I know. Mum, Nick doesn’t want me near him.’ She sank onto the chair and gripped her mother’s hands. ‘It’s all my fault.’

  ‘No Stacy, it was an accident.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t!’ She took a deep breath, stilling her tremors. ‘We were arguing. He … he told me he was seeing someone. I don’t think he meant for it to slip out, because when I questioned him, he didn’t answer. I …’ Calming her voice, she passed her mother a sideways glance and welcomed her compassionate gaze. ‘I yanked his arm. I made him swerve.’

  ‘Okay.’ She paused. ‘How hard did you pull it?’

  Her heart hammered. She released her quaking hand and dabbed away her tears.

  ‘Stacy, how hard did you pull it?’

  ‘I barely touched him. But it was enough to cause him to lose control. We were going around a bend. He was going too fast. He didn’t expect me to touch him. I distracted him.’

  ‘Then it wasn’t your fault. Nick was the one driving. He was the one behind the wheel, and he should have been in control.’

  She stared at her lap and knotted her hands. What her mother said made sense. Nonetheless, it wasn’t enough to free her from the guilt.

  ‘What happened was an accident. Nick will realise that too. Have you spoken about it?’

  She shook her head. They had barely spoken at all. Looking him in the eye in his current state was impossible.

  Carol breathed an exasperated breath, wrapped her arms around Stacy’s body, and pulled her close. ‘You have to talk to him.’

  ‘I can’t. He’ll hate me.’

  ‘He won’t. He loves you.’

  Her words were unconvincing. Her mother couldn’t have forgotten about Nick’s relationship with Kirsty. As hard as it was to accept, Nick may not want her in his life anymore. It seemed a real possibility.

  ‘I can’t lose him.’

  ‘I’m sure it won’t come to that. Just don’t make any decisions right away.’ She released her grip. ‘The consultant’s left his ward. You should go talk to him. He needs you.’

  Stacy blew her nose and glanced across the corridor. The door was ajar and a nurse was inside.

  ‘How about I wait in the café and you come to me when you’re done?’

  ‘It’s okay. I’ll be fine. Anyway, don’t you have work to go to?’

  ‘You’re more important,’ Carol replied.

  She forced a smile. ‘Please, just leave. I could be a while. I’ll call you later.’

  ‘Are you certain?’

  She inhaled a mouthful of replenishing air and nodded her head.

  ‘Stay strong.’

  ‘Thanks Mum.’

  Carol stood up, kissed her on the top of her head, and walked down the corridor. At the end, she paused, cast her a reassuring glance and disappeared from view.

  Following suit, Stacy forced strength into her legs and calmness into her chest and started to the door to Nick’s ward. As she passed inside, the nurse greeted her with a cheery comment and moved away.

  Nick’s eyes were upon her. For a moment, she remained statuesque, unsure what to say and analysing his expression. He seemed unreasonably calm. If she were in his position, having just gone through a life-changing event, she would be in a worse state and demanding his attention. Of course, it could be an act.

  ‘The consultant is optimistic,’ he said. ‘They won’t know for a while if the surgery has worked, but he thinks there’s a chance I’ll get some use in my legs back.’

  She opened her mouth to tell him it was good news, but her voice was strangled with guilt; instead, she remained in position, her eyes drifting and her arms wrapped snugly around her body.

  ‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’ he asked.

  ‘It sounds hopeful.’

  ‘It is. There’s no point thinking the worst, now is there?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Please sit down. There’s something I want to tell you.’

  Whilst reluctant, she shuffled to the seat by his bedside, sat down, and folded her arms. She tried to look at him, but her eyes would not settle on his face and wandered down his body and to the machinery at the far side of the bed. He was going to blame her, and he would be right. If she hadn’t grabbed his arm, they wouldn’t be in the position they were in. The accident and the paralysis in his legs was her fault, and until she admitted her guilt, it would remain a burden.

  ‘Stacy.’ He cupped her hand. ‘When I get out of here I’m going to return to my folks place.’

  ‘You blame me for the accident.’

  ‘No …’ He scrutinised her broken expression. ‘No, it’s something else.’ He paused, swallowed a lump in his throat and stared at his knotted hands. ‘It’s because of Kirsty. I mentioned her in the car. I’ve been seeing her for a while. I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. She’s the one I want to be with.’

  Unable to comprehend the words that had spilled from his mouth, her breathing quickened and her heart hammered. Only minutes earlier, she had been thinking of packing in her job in order to care for him full time, and now … now her heart was breaking. How could he do this to her, to them? Did their relationship mean nothing? Wasn’t it worth a fight?

  ‘I need this,’ he said, ‘I have to think of myself now. I’ve too much going on. You owe me this.’

  She jolted and stared, and whilst the harshness of his comment surprised, she didn’t have it within her to argue. How could she? He had no
t lied; she had caused his disability. Granting him his last wish was the least she could do. ‘Of course. You do what’s right for you. We don’t need to drag this on unnecessarily.’

  ‘You’re okay with this?’

  She nodded, gritted her teeth, and walked away from Nick’s hospital bed. Overwhelmed with sorrow, and fighting a burdensome pain in her chest, she progressed along the corridors, weaving around staff and visitors, and arrived at the exit. As she hurried across the car park, she searched for hope or enlightenment, something to justify her decision in relenting to Nick’s demand. None would come. Despite his affair, she wanted him in her life and could not tolerate the thought of him dealing with his paralysis without her.

  She arrived at her car, closed the door, and stared with empty eyes through the windscreen. Never again would they watch a film together, or spend a day on the beach. Never again would he hold her in his arms. Never again would he kiss her goodnight, or awaken her with a welcome smile.

  Their relationship was over. He didn’t love her. He wanted Kirsty.

  She tried to think of better things, yoga holidays, her job as a teacher, and the pleasure she gained with her friends, but it was without reward. Escaped tears slid down her cheeks. She was broken; she had no defence to the mounting pain and sobbed and sobbed.

  Chapter 3

  Waking up alone caused a clenching of her heart. Her immediate response was to bury herself under the covers and wallow in self-pity; instead, she blanked her mind of all the negativity that had happened during the last day and a half and forced positive thinking. Just because Nick had made his decision to end their relationship did not mean her life had to be over. It was time to make steps towards building a new life.

  She would take on extra duties at work, she would look to join a club or a class, and she would work on her friendships, something she had let drift over recent months. Life could be good. She didn’t need a man to make her happy, and even without anything extra in her life she still had Christie, Jenny, and Kim.

  There were other bonuses too. She didn’t have to wait for the bathroom to be free to have her morning shower. She didn’t have to clean up Nick’s mess in their bedroom. She didn’t have to make him meals or wash his clothes. In addition, aside from household duties, she knew he wouldn’t be returning home at a day’s end and didn’t need to spend her time feeling irritated at his absence.