Letting Go Read online

  “Thank you, Daddy, I love you.”

  “I love you too,” I reply, getting off the bed so I can get changed.

  Chapter 8.

  CARTER

  Once Frank has left for work, I tidy around the house and then get dressed and head out with the address of Charles’s coffee shop in my pocket. I’m sure if I see what he looks like, I’ll stop worrying about him and Frank.

  I plug my headphones into my phone and scan the music library for an album to listen to whilst I sit on the train. My hands are sweating and I feel my stomach churning the closer I get to the station. I know I should go back home and forget about Charles but the curiosity will keep eating away at me until I see him.

  The coffee shop is on the outskirts of the town, as it is a sunny day, I take a slow walk through the town centre. My pace is slow, half hesitant; I’m sweating, and not just from the heat, as I walk down the last street leading me to the shop. As I turn the corner, I can see the shop opposite, scanning the carpark I check that Frank’s car is not around; I don’t know why as he said he was coming here on Thursday anyway.

  I stand still, staring across the road. My legs feel like jelly as they shake. Charles might not even be here today, oh God, why am I doing this? If Frank knew I was here he would go mad, but I have to settle my mind. Taking a deep breath, I slowly walk across the road, my heart thudding in my chest like a jackhammer as I reach the shop.

  Opening the door, my stomach wrenches and knots as I walk into the shop. There are a few people sitting at various tables, some with laptops, others reading newspapers or chatting to each other. I check out the staff behind the counter, both of whom look around my age, neither of them is Charles. Sighing with relief that I didn’t walk straight into him, I cough to clear my throat and walk to the counter.

  “Would you like any hot drinks?” the lad asks and smiles.

  “Yes, please, a latte.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No, that’s all, thanks.” The thought of eating is the furthest thing from my mind at the moment.

  I pay for my drink, then carry it over to the closest table to the exit door, taking a newspaper from the rack as I walk. Sitting down, I make sure I have easy access to leave in a hurry if I need to. I can see the counter and a corridor to the side that must lead to the office. From here I can watch the counter without it being too obvious. Taking a sip of my coffee I open the paper and hold it up so I can glance over the top.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this; I feel like an undercover detective stalking a criminal.

  After about ten minutes an older grey-haired guy appears from the corridor, he is very thin, his face a dark orange colour, aged from too much sun. He looks a lot older than Frank, but it must be Charles. I try to keep holding my paper still and covering my face as my hands shake. I’m not sure why, as he would have no idea who I am.

  He appears to be talking to someone as he walks around the front of the counter. My eyes widen and my hands sweat as I see Frank follow him out of the corridor to the counter.

  Shit, shit, he said he was coming here on Thursday not today why was his car not outside? Fuck, if Frank sees me, he will go crazy. The pounding in my chest is heavy. If I try to leave, I risk them looking over and seeing me, so I sit tight hiding behind the paper sweating and trembling.

  Charles runs his hand down Frank’s arm as he talks to him, I can’t hear what is being said but they both smile at each other and laugh. I can feel my blood boiling and my tears building as I watch them. Charles is flirting with Frank, standing so close to him I’m sure their fingers are touching, but I can’t see. After a while, Frank steps back a little and holds his hand out to Charles.

  Charles ignores his hand and pulls him into a tight hug before staring into his eyes, he says something then kisses Frank on the lips. I want to stand up and shout at them, but I’m frozen still by what I’ve seen. Frank pats Charles on his back and pulls out of the embrace, then they both walk back down the corridor out of sight.

  I can feel the tears running down my cheeks as I drop the paper to the table. My mind runs into overdrive about what they are now doing in the back office. As much as I want to run to the office and scream at them, I know deep down it would be the worst thing I could do. Trying to control my emotions, I stand up and leave, tears streaming down my face as I close the door behind me.

  I run back through town to the station, pushing my way through the crowds to get to the train. Finding a seat, I wipe the tears from my eyes as I notice a woman opposite me glance over. I put my headphones on and hope it will stop her from asking me if I’m okay.

  I’m not okay; I want to scream as loud as I can, scream because I just saw my boyfriend kiss his ex-partner! Why was I stupid enough to think I would be more important to Frank than Charles? They spent over eighteen years together and what have we had, months?

  I head back to the house steaming about what I had seen, waiting for Frank to come home so I can confront him about it.

  Chapter 9.

  FRANK

  It’s been a hard day but I have resolved several work issues, which has made my day. The biggest achievement of the day being the fact I have told Charles all about Carter. I’m relieved he took it so well; instead of the tantrum and sarcasm I was expecting, I got a hug and kiss as he wished as both well.

  He even said he would like to meet Carter one day, but that will not happen. Charles is finally history and I can move on with Carter. I can’t wait to tell my boy, hopefully now he will stop being so insecure about Charles.

  Stopping at the florists on the way home I buy some flowers for him. It is strange … I feel like I have lifted a huge weight of my shoulders. My heart is skipping with happiness, the future with my boy can begin now. We can build the trust our relationship needs.

  I’m home nice and early. As I park the car outside the house, the smile on my face grows bigger and I feel a warm glow. I never thought after Charles that I would meet anyone else. But now I have Carter my sweet loving boy, yes, he has his issues, he’s immature but I love him to bits. He is my boy and we will be so happy together.

  Getting out the car, I grab the flowers off the seat, trying to hide them behind my back in case he is looking out the window. I open the front door silently and close it behind me putting my bag on the floor.

  “Hey, gorgeous boy, daddy’s home!” I call out in a cheerful tone. There is no reply so I walk into the lounge, holding the flowers in front of me. Carter is sitting on the sofa I can see he has been crying. “Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask with a sweet, caring tone.

  Carter stands up his face burning. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong? I saw you today kissing Charles in the coffee shop, that’s what is fucking wrong.” The anger in his voice shows in his face.

  My heart sinks as I stare at him, trying to work out what is going on, what he is saying, trying to understand why he is so angry.

  He walks towards me, grabbing the flowers from my hand. “What are these for? Because you’re feeling fucking guilty about what you’ve done?” He throws the flowers on the floor. Tears stream down his face; his body is shaking with anger. “I saw you kiss him in front of the counter then walk back down the corridor to his office. What, did you have a quick fuck in the office for old time’s sake?” The words are spitting from his mouth like snake venom, he is not giving me a chance to speak.

  “Carter.” I try to stop him shouting, reaching to grab his arms but he shrugs himself loose.

  “Come on, you may as well tell me the gory details,” he growls angrily. “Tell me how fucking good he is.”

  The excitement I was feeling moments ago about our future drains from me as every word leaves his mouth. I was so happy when I walked into the house. Now this, this is Carter at his worst, jealous and spiteful, his words are like a mad man’s rambling as I try to make sense of them. I don’t have to try to remain calm as I speak because his words have kicked me in the gut, knocking me for six. I take a deep breath before I spe
ak. “There are no gory details to tell,” I reply as I stare at him, my own eyes welling with tears. I’m not angry, but deflated and hurt that he even thinks I would do something like that.

  “What happened then?” he shouts in my face like a wild animal.

  I walk to the sofa and sit down holding my head in my hands “Nothing happened. I told you I would tell him about us, and I did. I went today because I told you I was going Thursday and I knew you would have spent the whole day getting wound up about it. So, to save you getting stressed I wanted to get it over and done with today. What you saw was him wishing us well and giving me a farewell kiss as a friend.” I shake my head in my hands. “Why don’t you ever wait for me to explain things before spitting your vile, hurtful words?”

  He stares at me. This time, he’s the one stunned into silence. His face is confused as he takes in what I have said.

  “What were you even doing at the coffee shop anyway?” I ask.

  “I wanted to see what Charles was like,” he says, the anger slowly dropping from his voice.

  “Oh, Carter, you could have just asked me that. You didn’t need to go hunting him down. Are you ever going to trust me?” I can feel myself getting angry now about his mistrust.

  “I just wanted to see him for myself,” he says, trying to explain himself.

  “Then you saw him kiss me and have spent the rest of the day dwelling on it, waiting for me to get home so you could rip into me, for something I never even did,” I say, still taken back by his onslaught.

  “I’m sorry. I saw him stroke your arm and kiss you, what was I supposed to think?” His voice is calmer, apologetic.

  “You should have seen it for what it was and who was doing the touching and kissing. Did I grab him?” My voice is getting louder as his actions sink in.

  “I suppose it was Charles,” he says, lowering his head to look at the floor

  I stand up, infuriated that he still has doubts about me and Charles. “I suppose, you don’t trust me at all.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

  I rant over him. “Carter you either need to get over your insecurity or get out of my life. I need some space. I’m going for a drive.”

  Furious about how he has made me feel, I stomp out of the lounge, slamming the front door as I leave the house. If I stay, I will probably say something I’ll regret.

  Chapter 10.

  CARTER

  The front door slams before I can call out to him. Tears are streaming down my face. I know what I did was wrong, If I hadn’t gone snooping on Charles, none of this would have happened. Typical me, I can’t get anything right. There’s no way I can go to the flat because Brandon would just say I told you so. Frank obviously doesn’t want me here anymore; I need to get out before he comes back.

  Rushing upstairs, I grab my rucksack, throwing some clothes and wash stuff into it. Wiping my eyes, I grab my wallet and phone, then run down the stairs. Shutting the door, I post the keys back through the letterbox, I don’t know why, it just seems the right thing to do as it’s not my house. Then I walk as fast as I can to the train station, not looking back.

  My mind is a mess. I don’t know where I will go, but I need to be away from Frank’s house. I take around fifteen minutes to walk to the station and as I get there my phone rings. Looking at the screen, Frank’s face is smiling back at me. I hit reject before turning my phone into flight mode.

  Walking into the station, I look at the rail map on the wall, scanning it hurriedly for somewhere to go. Brighton catches my eye down the bottom of the map. Brighton, I will be safe there. I buy a ticket at the machine then walk to the platform. There is a thirty-minute wait until the next train.

  I sit down on the platform seats, my heart thudding deep inside my chest, my hands shaking from the argument. An argument I caused with my silly jealousy. Placing my face in my hands, the tears flow again, my body shaking as I sob into my hands. He is right. Will I ever trust him? God, I wish I wasn’t so insecure.

  I’ve made a real mess of things this time. It’s the first time he has ever been that angry to walk out on me; I must have really upset him. Get out of my life, he said. The words are ringing in my ears. Get out of my life. Well, I will be out of his life down in Brighton, maybe there I can find happiness with someone that wants me in their life.

  I put my headphones on and press play on my phone. The first track plays; Different Corner, the words matching the way I feel. If we hadn’t met, would Frank care? I know I have my faults, but I thought he understood me. He told me to leave, so I’m leaving.

  The train pulls into the station and I get on board. Looking for a quiet corner to sit in, I throw my rucksack on the overhead rack, then curl into the corner, wrapping my arms tight around myself as the music continues to play in my ears. I close my eyes, hoping no one will notice I’ve been crying. The train creaks and shudders as it pulls away from the platform.

  Chapter 11.

  FRANK

  I don’t drive far before turning back towards the house. Why does he not wait for an explanation before flying off the handle? But then, he has been like that ever since I met him at the leisure centre. Ripping into me for not contacting him when we had only known each other just a few days.

  Parking the car outside the house I take a deep breath. We need to sort this out and I need to help him learn to trust me. I wish I knew what happened in his life to make him so insecure.

  Getting out of the car, I head into the house.

  “Carter,” I call out. He doesn’t reply. “Carter, where are you?”

  Still no reply, I check the rooms downstairs, but he is not there. I walk upstairs, in the bedroom the wardrobes and chest of drawers are open, some clothes on the floor, he has obviously rummaged through the clothes fast. Then I notice his rucksack is not on the floor where he leaves it.

  I sit down on the bed and get my phone out of my pocket scrolling to his name I hit call. The phone rings a few times then cuts off and goes to voicemail. I hang up and redial, this time the phone goes straight to voicemail, so I leave a message.

  “Carter, where have you gone? I’m sorry I shouted at you. I’m back at the house, please come back home so we can sort things out.”

  I put my phone away and close the wardrobe doors. He couldn’t have gone far; it’s five thirty, he has probably gone to the flat to rant at Brandon about me. As I tidy the room I pick up his black swimming trunks. The ones he was wearing when we first met in the leisure centre. My heart flutters as I remember how gorgeous he looked and why I love him so much. Heading back downstairs I pour myself a glass of wine and sit on the sofa. Why does he get himself in such a state? I wish I could understand what is going on in his head. I get my phone out and try his number again. Still just voicemail so I hang up.

  I think it will take him a long time to get over the way he reacts, so I will have to make more effort and try to help him. I definitely need to think more before mentioning Charles in the future. But then, our only interactions now will be for work anyway and I can limit the number of visits I have to make to his coffee shop. One thing I know about him is that he is good at managing the shop and staff training, after all the years we were together he knows as much about HR as I do and his staff records are always meticulously complete.

  I make myself busy in the kitchen whilst I wait for Carter to call. After an hour, I have still not heard from him, so I try his phone again. It’s still going to voicemail.

  “Hey, Carter, I’m getting worried now. Please call me, let me know where you are and I will come and pick you up.” I leave the message and hang up. It’s not like Carter. He normally answers the phone or replies to messages in an instant. The only place I can think he would go to is the flat. I will give him another hour to get back to me.

  After thirty minutes, I can’t settle. Why is he not getting back to me? I call him again but it goes to voicemail.

  “Carter, I’m very worried now. I’m giving you thirty minutes, then I’m goi
ng to Brandon’s flat to see if you’re there, and you know how much I don’t want to have to see him. Call me.” I hang up the phone. I could do with another drink, but I may have to drive to pick him up, so I make a coffee instead and sit back in the lounge.

  Chapter 12.

  CARTER

  I had to change trains twice but the journey went smoothly to get here. I arrived in Brighton at seven forty-five. The sun is setting as I walk through the town towards the pier. Memories of being here with Frank run through my mind. We were both so relaxed. It was all about us that weekend.

  I cross the main road and walk onto the pier. Considering it’s late, there are still many people about. I walk along until I find an empty seat to sit down. Seagulls swirl and screech overhead as I look out across the sea. The breeze feels nice and cool on my skin. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and feel myself calming down.

  Removing my headphones, I sit in silence, trying not to think about anything, though the thoughts about the argument with Frank are heavy on my mind. As is where I will stay tonight, but there are loads of places to stay here, I’m sure I will find somewhere.

  Families walk past me and smile, the kids holding candyfloss and ice creams. Funny how no one knows what is going on in your world. All they see is the smile you force on your face.

  An older guy walks over and he gives me a smile. “Mind if I join you?” he asks, sitting before I can reply. He is attractive; must be in his fifties, short black hair with wisps of grey. He doesn’t look as toned or muscular as Frank, but obviously looks after himself. The rainbow bear paw print on his T-shirt leaves me in no doubt he is gay, as we both sit in silence staring out over the water.