A Beautiful Forever

chapter 14

Elliot

Sighing heavily, I feel like such a f*cking idiot as I lay here, listening to the sounds of Paige showering. I can’t believe I got carried

away like that, although it’s not like it hasn’t happened before. Thinking about the way I felt the first time I did that with Katrina, I

realise that I must have it pretty bad for Paige, my feelings seem so much more intense this time around, and I can’t help but wonder

what I would do if I was given an ultimatum and had to leave Paige. I feel a desperate need for her that’s unsettling and glorious all at

the same time. I can’t imagine anything changing my mind about her. I need her.

Rising from the bed, I pull on a pair of boxer shorts as I pick up our discarded clothing and fold it in a pile on top of the suitcase I

keep at the foot of my bed. When the door cracks open, I turn to see Paige, looking like an apparition as she’s bathed in the light

from the hallway as it filters around her and into the room.

She’s wearing an oversized white t-shirt, her slender legs, long and tan in contrast as I watch her move towards me, holding out a

clean sheet.

“Thanks,” I say, taking it from her and dropping it still folded on the bed.

We stand together awkward for a moment before I sit in front of her and pull her towards me, sliding my hands up her legs and under

the hem of her shirt. My intension was to hold her to me, to talk about what just happened. But, a grin creeps over my face as my

hands continue up, never meeting any resistance from underwear. Her eyes sparkle mischievously, as her hands slide over my hair

and down the side of my face affectionately.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I say as I lift her shirt over her head and pull her onto the bed with me. “Maybe we should try that

again, properly this time,” I suggest, wanting to put the whole ‘no condom’ thing behind us.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” she whispers. “But this time I get to be on top,” she informs me as she removes my boxers and

slides her legs either side of me.

***

“So um, do you want to tell me the story behind this tattoo?” I ask, running my hands down her back as we lay together afterwards.

“Not really,” she says quietly, her body stiffening slightly as she speaks. Not wanting to push her any further, I move my hand from her

back to caress her arm instead. Feeling even more curious but knowing that now isn’t the time to push it.

A silence settles over us. It's not one of those uncomfortable ones that makes you feel like you’ve made a mistake after sleeping

with someone. It’s one of those silences, filled with questions and answers that remain unspoken, but at some point will need to be

said.

“Elliot, do you have any plans this weekend,” she asks me suddenly.

“Um, no, do you?”

“I do actually,” she says carefully, sitting up to look at me. Her mass of dark hair falling over her shoulders as she leans forward to

talk to me. I raise my eyebrows in question, trying to keep my focus on her face and not her body. “I’d like you to come with me

actually – for moral support. I’m… I’m going to meet my father,” she reveals.

I sit up quickly, frowning in confusion. “Your father? But…”





Paige


“I know - you thought he was dead,” I say over the top of him. I reach down to the floor and pick up a shirt that’s lying there. It’s not

mine, but it will do. I don’t want to have this conversation naked.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, post-coitus probably isn’t the best time to be doing this, but I feel the need to open up to him,

I need to give him something about me. I feel so guilty right now, like I’m leading him astray and tricking him into caring about me, he

needs to know what he’s getting into.

“I’m listening,” he says, his eyes boring into me.

“My family isn’t dead Elliot. They're all alive and well – as far as I know anyway – they kicked me out when I was fifteen, and I’ve been

lying and saying that they’re dead so people don’t question me.” I let it all out in a rush of breath and then hold it, waiting for him to

react.

“They what?” he asks looking down at me, deep furrows between his brows.

“They’re not dead,” I repeat.

“No, no – I got that; I’m asking about the other part. They kicked you out?!" he queried, a disbelieving tone in his voice.

“Yes Elliot, they kicked me out,” I confirmed. “So you’re not angry with me?”

He scrunches his face up, confused, “Angry with you? Why the hell would I be angry with you?”

“Because I lied, Elliot. I made you think I was an orphan.”

He puts his hands on my shoulders, holding me firmly as he peers into my face intently. “Paige. Your parents kicked you out of home

when you were still a child, if my parents did that – I’d probably say they were dead too. I don’t care what you did, no one deserves

that.”

I blink rapidly as tears threaten to spill from my eyes, I can’t believe he's reacting this way. I expected him to yell at me, to tell me he

needed time to think. What I didn’t expect was complete understanding.

“I’ve been lying about my past for so long, Elliot,” I admit. “I used to tell the truth, that I was kicked out, but people always looked at

me strangely, wondering what I’d done to deserve it, and I didn’t want to answer their questions anymore. I didn’t do anything – they

just didn’t like me.”

His strong arms encircle me and drag me closer so I’m sitting on his lap. This huge relief fills me as he tilts my face upwards to meet

my eyes. “It’s ok Paige,” he whispers, bringing his lips to mine. As our mouths move together, my threatened tears slide quietly from

my closed eyes as my emotions take over and my fears fall away, cracking my heart open just enough so hope begins to blossom

inside of me. I find myself doing something that’s been so difficult for me before now – I’m letting him in, just a little.

I pause our kissing and rest my forehead on his shoulder. Perhaps one day he’ll be able to understand everything about me, but

telling him everything is a risk I can’t take yet. First, I want to tell him about my life before I was sent out on my own.

Breathing deep as I close my eyes, I revel in the feel of his skin against my cheek as I keep my head tucked and speak quietly

against his chest.

“My Mother worked - probably still works; for one of the big multinational accounting firms in Sydney. When she was in her early 30s,

she got sent here, to London, for some sort of business trip. When she came back, she found out she was pregnant with me.

“She used to tell me how sick she was on the plane home and how she thought that she had food poisoning. I don’t know if that was

true or not, the timing doesn’t seem right to me, but it’s what she always said.

“As I grew, people would often comment on how my brother and sister look so different from me. They would ask my mother who has

straight, light brown hair, where my own hair came from. It couldn’t be on my father’s side; they were all blond hair, blue eyed…

“It wasn’t long before more questions were asked, ‘where did she get those eyes?’, ‘where did she get that olive skin?’ I look

nothing like my family Elliot, and I got treated that way.

“My older brother and younger sister were always given everything they wanted. I spent a lot of my life wondering if perhaps I was

really Cinderella, as my own possessions were very limited in comparison. If something went wrong, I was the first to be blamed for

it.

“As I got older, I noticed the way my parents looked at me. I always felt like I was such a disappointment. I wasn’t good at school like

my siblings, nor was I good at sports. I was just me.

“By the time I was a teen I was becoming too much of a handful for them, I would go out with my friends and refuse to come home on

time. I knew I wasn’t wanted so I did what I could to stay out of the way. Then one day, I was walking up my driveway, and I noticed a

bag with an envelope on top. I opened it, and along with $200 was a note in my mother’s handwriting. It said ‘This isn’t your home

anymore.’ Stupidly, I tried the door – they’d changed the locks - who the hell does that?

“I went to a friend’s house and stayed there for as long as I could, then couch hopped for a while until I found a place to stay.

“I never understood why I was so different, and I hated them for not loving me. But when I was sixteen, I ordered a copy of my birth

certificate to get my license. That’s when I found out why - my father isn’t my father Elliot. My mother had an affair when she was in

London. My real father lives here.”

Elliot is quiet for a moment when I finish, and I close my eyes tightly while I wait for his response.

“And you want to meet him?” Elliot asks finally, his voice soft as he speaks into my hair, he’s been gently stroking my back while he

listened to me.

“Yes – but I’m too nervous to go alone. Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” he whispers, lifting my head so he can look into my eyes. “Understand me when I say this Paige - I’d do anything for you.

”

That admission from him, spoken so softly, had so much power in it, that it caused a physical reaction within me. It started in my

chest and swirled outwards until it intensified to a point where I grabbed his face on either side and brought our mouths together. I

held him so tightly, as I kissed him, my arms wrapping around his head and neck as we pulled each other closer, not willing to let

each other go for a frantic second.

Lying back down together on the single bed, we wrapped ourselves around each other, absorbed in a passion that would keep us

joined for the rest of the night.