A Beautiful Forever

chapter 11

Elliot

That moment in the coffee shop when she told me to let go, keeps playing over and over in my mind, and it hurts like hell every single

time. I’ve been doing my best to maintain the new ‘no touching’ policy that Paige established between us. But it’s hard. We've spent

the best part of a month getting to know each other, and I didn’t realise how much of a habit touching her had become. Now, every

time we go out as a group or when I walk home with her, I have had to consciously remind myself to give her physical space. I feel

kind of empty now, and even though I’m trying to maintain our friendship, it’s hard and I’ve been a bit lax in meeting her after work

these past few days.

It’s not that I’m avoiding her. I just need to work things out in my own head. She told me that it bothers her that she likes it when I

touch her. Just thinking that sentence hurts my head, and I don’t understand how I’m supposed to behave around her, so I’m doing

my best to stay at work for as long as possible, keeping busy until I figure out how to handle this.

“Any last minute clients?” I ask Celsey, our American receptionist who arrived on her working visa not long after I did.

“Hi Elliot,” she says smiling brightly as she looks up from what she was doing and tucks her shoulder length blonde hair behind her

ear to keep it from falling over her eyes. “Looking for extra hours?”

“Yeah, I could do with the cash,” I answer. It’s only a half lie. I'm really just trying to stay back so I have a good reason not to meet up

with Paige again today.

“Can’t we all,” she laughs as she taps at the keys on the computer in front of her and peers at the information on the screen. “There

aren’t any PT clients, but I heard Jessica saying that she’s struggling today and wants to go home early, do you think you could take

her last couple of clients on?”

“Absolutely, I’ll go and let her know. Thanks Celsey,” I smile as I turn to go and find Jessica to tell her I’ll take over for her.





Paige


“Looks like you finally pushed hard enough to chase him away,” Andrea comments as we exit the salon, this is the fourth day in a

row that Elliot hasn’t been waiting for me.

“I think I’ve f*cked everything up with him,” I tell her.

“Paige, tell him how you feel. He's obviously crazy about you. I’ve never known a guy to hang around outside a hair salon like he

does for someone who’s just a friend.”

“What the hell am I supposed to tell him? I don’t know how I feel about him Andrea.”

“Bull shit,” she says bluntly.

“Excuse me?” I ask surprised.

“Bull shit you don’t know how you feel Paige. Now go and sort it out with him, I want you smiling at work tomorrow – that frown of

yours drives customers away,” she comments as she walks off leaving me standing in front of the salon as I contemplate exactly

what I should do.

Pulling out my phone, I text Naomi. Is Elliot at home?

I wait for a couple of minutes for her to respond, her answer the deciding factor in which way I go.

No not yet, she replies.

Knowing what I have to do, I put a call through to his work.

“City Point Club, Celsey speaking,” answers a girl with an American accent.

“Oh, um hi, I was just calling to ask if Elliot Roberts is working this evening,” I enquire.

“Yes he is, would you like me to see if has time for another client?” she asks.

“Um, what time would that be?” I ask.

“He’s booked up until seven thirty.”

“Ah, that’s probably too late for me. Thanks for your help though.”

“No problem,” Celsey says as I disconnect the call and work out my timing. If I leave now, I’ll get to his work in time to be waiting for

him for a change.





Elliot


As I exit the building that houses the City Point Club, I’m more than ready to go back to the flat and just veg out with a movie for a

couple of hours. Based on the whiteboard this morning only Shane, Paige and I are due home for dinner. The others are either

working or going out with their significant others.

“Elliot, wait up!” a female voice calls to me the moment my foot touches the pavement outside. I turn, seeking out a face I might

recognise and notice one of the girls I trained this afternoon smiling and walking towards me. “Are you finished for the day?” she

asks as she stops in front of me, she has a tiny figure with long wavy caramel coloured hair and large brown eyes, although I can’t

remember her name.

“Yeah, I’m just headed home,” I reply, smiling politely at her.

“Could I interest you in maybe grabbing dinner, or a drink?” she asks hopefully, adjusting her hair and smiling brightly at me, in an

attempt to appear flirtatious.

Clearing my throat, I look up at the building feeling awkward as I work out my reply, “Um, what was your name?”

“Kerry,” she responds quickly.

“Right, Kerry. Listen, thanks for the offer but I’m expected elsewhere tonight,” I lie, trying to make this easier on both of us.

“Oh, well maybe some other time?” she presses.

Smiling I reach out and touch her arm in an attempt to let her down gently. “Listen, I’m sure you’re a lovely girl,” I start.





Paige


As I walk towards Elliot’s work, I spot him standing outside talking to a tiny girl who is obviously flirting with him. My heart starts to

hammer against my breastbone as I witness him smile and reach out to touch her arm. In that moment, my rational mind leaves my

body, and I find myself standing boldly in between them, behaving like a woman scorned.

“Who the hell are you?” I practically spit at the tiny super pretty girl with her beautiful hair and perfect body who I instantly dislike.

Elliot cuts his head towards me, and frowns like he’s not really sure what I’m doing here. Truthfully, I don’t even know what I’m doing

here – I seem to have lost my mind somewhere along the way.

“Paige? What are you doing? Why are you here?”

“Oh I’m sorry; you have a girlfriend. I should have known,” the tiny girl I hate squeaks out in her annoyingly cute voice.

I simply glare at her as Elliot frowns at my behaviour. “Kerry, I’m sorry but I don’t think it’s a good idea. Thank you for the invite

though,” Elliot tells her kindly before he takes my arm and guides me forward until we’re out of tiny Kerry’s earshot. “Paige, what are

you doing?” he smiles patiently, his voice calm as he searches my face for answers.

“Well I’m sorry. I was trying to be nice and meet you at work for a change. I didn’t realise you were staying late at work so you could

pick up,” I bite out churlishly.

“What the f*ck Paige?” he demands confused, “I just knocked her back. Right in front of you.”

“Whatever Elliot, I saw you touching her arm.”

“Are you serious?! Paige, I was trying to let her down kindly – she’s a client. This is my work. I can’t be a bastard and just tell her to

f*ck off because I’m interested in a girl who hates that she likes it when I touch her. It doesn’t sound quite right does it?” he asks, a

slight edge to the calm he’s fighting to keep in his voice.

“I don’t hate it,” I whisper as I close my eyes in a fight to make my internal defences let me open up to him. “This…this is hard for me

ok? I haven’t been close to anyone for years… and I…I’m just not sure how to do it.”

“I don’t want to push you Paige. But I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

My mouth opens and closes as I fight to find something to say, “I don’t know either,” is all I manage.

He looks up to the heavens for some sort of answer as he sighs and chews the side of his lips. “Let’s just go ok?” he says as he

puts his hand on the small of my back and prompts me to walk in the direction of the train station. The return of that simple touch is

more beautiful than I can bear, and I have to pretend to brush my hair out of my face to catch the tear that escapes from my eye.





Elliot


We travell home in virtual silence, both of us inside our own heads attempting to work out how we're supposed to be together. One

thing I know for sure is that I’m obviously crazy about her, she keeps pushing and pushing at me, and I just stand there, taking every

single blow because I know that eventually she’ll stop, and she’ll let me in.

“Finally!” Shane says as we come through the door, “I was just about to call you both, dinner’s almost ready.”

Since he was home first he took on the chef duties and has made some pasta for dinner. Paige and I move straight towards the

kitchen and help get drinks, bowls and cutlery out to set the table while Shane strains the penne and mixes it with the sauce.

I don’t think I’ve sampled Shane’s cooking before, it’s um…interesting. I’m doing my best to eat it without grimacing.

“Uh…Shane, what did you do to this pasta?” Paige asks laughing, seeming much more relaxed now than she was earlier. She’s

poking at a clump of penne stuck together, and only half cooked.

“Man, I don’t know. I put it in boiling water and cooked it for ten minutes like the pack says, but…”

“Did you stir it?” she asks.

He sits up in his chair and looks at her, pressing his lips tightly together as he thinks. “No, I don’t think I did.”

“Well, there’s your problem, you have to stir it a couple of times while it’s cooking,” she tells him gently.

He nods his scruffy blond head, slowly committing this new information to memory. Suddenly, the theme music for ‘The Wicked

Witch of the West’ cuts through the quiet of the room.

“My butt’s ringing,” he says as he shifts in his seat to remove his phone from his back pocket, before leaving the table to take the

call.

Paige watches him walk into the lounge room before she turns to me, “She is going to kill him if she ever hears her ring tone,” she

comments, referring to Shane’s girlfriend. Coral seems like a nice enough girl. She's just a little full on, I guess. She likes to know

exactly what Shane is doing at all times, and despite joking that she’s a ball and chain – Shane is very happy to jump whenever she

calls.

I look at Paige for a moment, amazed at the change in her demeanour. She seems so much happier now that we’re back at the flat.

Tilting her head to see Shane, she seems to be contemplating the same thing I am.

I can’t pretend to eat this food anymore and put my fork down. “Are you going to eat that?” I ask Paige, who is doing little more than

poking her food around in circles.

She opens her eyes wide and mouths ‘NO’ as she shakes her head from side to side.

I glance at Shane, who has his back to us, and grab the bowls, quickly dumping their contents into the bin before he has the chance

to see. When he walks back into the kitchen, I’m already at the sink busily washing out the bowls.

“Listen guys,” he starts, “I'm going to have to give the movie a miss tonight. The girlfriend’s in a bit of a tizz so I’d better go and sort

things out with her.”

“There’s a movie?” I ask.

“Yeah, I forgot to mention it, I hired one on the way home – there’s shit all on tv tonight. It’s over by the DVD player so you guys watch

it. It's due back tomorrow. Anyway, I’ve gotta go.”





Paige


“Shane, aren’t you leaving next month?” I ask before he leaves.

“Yeah, that’s kinda what Coral’s problem is. I’ll see you both later,” he says as he grabs his jacket and keys and heads out the door,

leaving Elliot and I alone in the house for the first time since I started living here.

For a moment, I watch him from where I’m sitting as he moves around cleaning the kitchen. He is such a kind and beautiful man, and

I feel bad for leaving things so unresolved between us, but I can’t help feeling happy just being around him right now.

Rising from my seat, I decide I should help him by drying the dishes. He smiles gratefully at me as I take the first one from the

strainer, but he doesn’t speak. He seems lost in thought as we work together, quietly and comfortably, side by side.

Leaving the tea towel on the bench top I pick up the pile of dry dishes to return to the cupboard and bend from the waist to slide

them into place. As I right myself, my breath catches in my chest when I find him looking at me, his eyes so intense that I feel frozen

in place. Reaching for the tea towel, he dries his hands before he stops what he's doing and turns his whole body to face me.

“What’s your tattoo of?” he probes, dropping his eyes to my waist height.

“What tattoo?” I reply nervously, in a lame attempt to deflect.

“The black and orange one that occasionally sticks out from under your shirt. I saw it on the plane when we first met, and I’ve seen it

a couple of times when you’ve leant forward. What is it?” He steps closer to me, a solemn look in his eye.

I shift uneasily under his gaze, “Oh… uh, that one – it’s um just the markings of my misspent youth. It’s um, a phoenix.”

“A phoenix?” he repeats, his voice low and rumbling, caressing even, as he steps closer.

My breathing quickens as I nod quickly in response, suddenly I’m feeling light headed. Taking a step backwards, I try to gain a little

distance between us, but that only puts me up against the cupboard behind me. “Elliot don’t,” I whisper watching him stalk towards

me. He stops right in front of me, his body brushing up against my own and sending little spirals of longing shooting through me. He’

s so close that if I lift my head, we’ll be kissing.

“Can I see it?” he asks, his voice barely audible.

“No,” I breathe out, closing my eyes and trying to focus on keeping calm. His lips brush mine lightly, and I let out a whimper. I'm torn

between my body’s impulses to pull him toward me, and my brain’s insistence that I stay away from him. Then all of a sudden,

nothing.

Letting out a shaky breath, I open my eyes, feeling both relieved and bereft to see him standing at the sink again, washing up as if

nothing happened. I decide to take my cue from him, and walk back over to continue drying up.

“Leave it,” he says, a slight edge to his voice.

I pause and look at him, warring with myself about how I want to deal with this. I can walk away right now, and let whatever this is

between us go, without ever having to deal with it. I feel as if I push him away one more time, he might never come back.



A heaviness weighs down my chest, making it hard for me to act. It feels as though my decision now – whichever one it is; will

change everything between us. I can’t keep him away anymore, even though I should.

Despite the fact that my better judgement keeps screaming at me to stop, I do something I haven’t voluntarily done for years. I reach

out and place my hand on his arm to get his attention.





Elliot


Besides when I forced her to shake my hand on the plane and then paid her to cut my hair, Paige has never touched me willingly – it’

s always been me reaching for her. That’s why, when she does, it makes my heart ache from not knowing it until now.

“Elliot,” she ventures, her hand still resting upon my arm. “I’m sorry, ok. I haven’t shown anyone the tattoo – ever... Well, besides the

artist of course, but…” Her hands drop to her sides with a slap, “Oh god. I'm ruining this aren’t I?”

Drying my hands again, I turn to face her, meeting her amber eyes that are brimming with tears as her eyebrows furrow and her

mouth opens as if she is going to speak. Her eyes dart from side to side as she clamps her mouth shut and presses her full lips

together in a thin line. I say nothing as I watch her beautiful face run a gamut of emotions. Feeling disappointed however, when none

of them are conveyed to me.

Leaning with one hand on the edge of the sink, I glance down at the floor and clear my throat, I don’t know what it is she isn’t telling

me, but it bothers me that she doesn’t trust me enough to tell me things, I’d hoped we were moving past this.

“Paige, what do you want from me?” I ask point blank. It's time to lay our cards on the table.

“I…I don’t know,” she stammers out.

“I think you do,” I whisper.

Slowly, I reach out and gently touch her cheek. It’s as if she quivers under my fingertips and when she closes her eyes, a single tear

escapes, sliding down towards my hand in a bright trail of emotion.

Brushing my thumb over the tear, I wipe it away. Paige starts shaking her head and squeezing her eyes tighter. “No, Elliot,” she

breathes out, “You don’t want me like that.” When she opens her eyes and stares into mine, hers are so full anguish that I ache along

with her, desperately wanting to do something to try to take some of that pain away.

“But I do Paige, what do you want from me,” I insist.

“I…I can’t.”

“Say it Paige,” I continue to push needing this to happen, no matter what the cost.

“You Elliot, I want you!” she yells, finally admitting to what is between us before she drops her face and takes a step away from me. “I

’ve done things Elliot, terrible things, and I’ve hurt people. I've used people. I….Oh, god, I can’t do this…” She shakes her hands in

an agitated fashion and blows out a calming breath before she continues. “The tattoo, it’s a huge reminder of everything I never want

to be again, and I don’t get to have someone like you. I don’t deserve this. I'm not supposed to be happy!” she cries. “Can’t you

understand that!?”

Suddenly, I feel really crappy for pushing her. My chest hurts watching her so upset, especially knowing it was me that caused it.

Taking a couple of quick steps, I close the distance between us, hugging her tightly to my chest. It’s the only thing I can think to do

right now.





Paige


In all my life, I have never been held as I am now, and it’s more than I can bear, huge sobs wrack through my body for everything I

wish I could forget. Clinging tightly to him, I draw in his strength and take comfort in his arms.

“There’s nothing you could tell me that would make me stop caring about you Paige,” he says as he lifts my face so I have to look at

him. The sincerity in his eyes pulls at my heart and I can see he fully believes his own words. For a moment, I do too. But the reality is

- no man wants a woman with a past like mine, not anyone decent anyway.

When he leans in slowly and brushes his lips against my own, a feeling of beautiful longing sweeps through my body causing fresh

tears to fall from my eyes.

Overcome with emotion, I give in to my desires and kiss him back. Opening my mouth slightly as he holds my face tenderly in his

hands. I respond as his lips entwine with my own, softly tasting and teasing. Never forcing anything.

Pulling away, he presses his lips to my forehead and circles his arms around me once more. This time I hug him back, breathing

steadily as I listen to the rhythmic beating of his heart. “Can we watch the movie now?” I ask.

I feel his chest bounce as he laughs, “Yeah, we can watch the movie.”

He takes my hand and guides me over to the couches. I let him hold my hand, and I even let him put his arm around me as we watch

the movie. I feel so undeserving of him as I rest my head against his chest. My heart swells at the mere thought of him and I know I’ve

fallen too far, so much further than I wanted to. My mind keeps telling me to get up and go, pack my bags and leave. But my body is

staying firmly, pressed up against his, refusing to let go.

Instead of focusing on the movie I’m running through my options in my mind. Is it wrong of me to want him as much as I do? He’s only

here for six weeks; this can’t go anywhere… maybe I could do this. Maybe I could have this without having to tell him anything. Would

it be wrong to just enjoy what little closeness we can have before he goes? I wriggle a little against his hard chest and feel myself

melting against him.

Six weeks… six weeks until he goes home, and then if I have to - I’ll tell him everything, then I’ll let him go.