Page 45 of The Absence of You
“Thank you.” I try to steady my voice. The thought of what we’d been doing less than twenty-four hours ago brings heat to my cheeks. “You don’t scrub up too badly yourself.” My mouth waters as I fully take in his appearance. He always looks good, but there is something really attractive about the way he is wearing his dinner suit with effortless confidence. He fills it perfectly, the shoulders stretched across his broad frame as if it had been made for him. In all likelihood, it probably was.
Seeing him standing in front of me, so physically different to the boy I once knew, I’m reminded again how long has passed, and I suddenly long to know everything about this man, to know him as well as I knew the younger version. I want to catch up on everything in between, however hard that might be. But tonight, I am going to appreciate this side of him, the charming guy in the suit, confident in the world he’s grown-up in.
The orchestra starts to play a more modern song. I recognise it as Adele’s When We Were Young. It’s an instrumental version, but I can hear the lyrics in my head, as clearly as if they were being sung aloud.
Grayson steps towards me and there’s a sudden frisson of electricity in the air.
“Would you like to dance?” He offers me his hand. I want to, God do I want to. But even though we took a big step last night, I’m aware he’s still not told his parents about him and Charlotte breaking up.
“Is that a good idea if Charlotte and your family are here?” He ignores my question and continues to hold his hand out to me.
“Please Lia? Dance with me.”
Against my better judgement, I place my hand in his.
He pulls me towards him, placing his other hand on my lower back. Instinctively, I step into his arms and lay my head on his chest, our bodies aligning perfectly, like we were made to stand together like this. We sway to the music and memories of our childhood flood back to me. Warm summer days, hours spent laughing until we cried, discovering our favourite music together, drinking sweet hot chocolate at Dee’s kitchen table, countless trips to Lolly’s, sneaking our first taste of cider when we were thirteen and the hours spent in my room so he wouldn’t have to see his dad.
I blink, fighting back the tears that start to threaten, just as I feel Grayson’s fingers under my chin, tipping my face up to look at him.
We stare at each other, like we’re both silently acknowledging how intertwined our history is. Grayson’s sky blue eyes shine, the emotion clear on his face. As much as I wanted us to start afresh, it’s impossible to separate myself from our past, and I’m not sure I want to. It’s too much a part of who I am. Who we both are.
He flicks his gaze down, fixating on my mouth, and the mood suddenly shifts. He crashes his lips against my mouth and my stomach immediately pitches. I claw at his shirt, desperately kissing him back. It’s hard and demanding, like we’re claiming each other, but it soon turns softer as we explore each other gently. His tongue sweeps across my bottom lip as his hands slide down to my waist, and I run my hands through the back of his hair, mussing it up and tugging lightly, and I feel his hardness against my stomach. The memories of last night make me clench my thighs together, the need to take the edge off becoming more pressing. But then the song ends and I remember where I am, and I stop myself from doing anything that will embarrass us both.
We pull apart, neither of us able to keep the smile off our faces. He strokes my cheek tenderly. “Last night was fucking perfect Lia.” As I’m about to tell him I feel the same, voices from the doorway become louder, and I jump away from him, remembering we can’t be seen together like this.
“Grayson, there you are.” Colin Banks and Charlotte walk through the double doors onto the patio area, their presence like a bucket of cold water being thrown over me. “Miss Sloan and I were wondering where you’d got to.”
“What are you doing out here in the cold?” Charlotte asks Grayson, before noticing me standing next to him. Her eyes narrow. “I didn’t realise you’d be here this evening.” She looks me up and down, her gaze lingering on my mouth, frowning. She schools her face and stalks over to Grayson and links her arm with his. Grayson looks uncomfortable, his lips pink and swollen from what we were doing just minutes ago. Despite Grayson’s assurances that I have nothing to worry about with them, I’m not a masochist, and I have no intention of standing here like a third wheel.
Just as I begin to walk back inside, Mr Banks notices me standing there, his gaze suddenly settling on me, and it’s like he’s seen a ghost,
“Dahlia?” Mr. Banks quickly collects himself, but not before I catch his startled expression.
“Good evening, Mr. Banks. It’s nice to see you again.” The words slip out automatically, my manners betraying me.
“You too, Dahlia. It’s been a long time. I barely recognised you in that dress. Makes a pleasant change from the shorts and t-shirts you used to live in as a child. Wait until I tell Melissa you’re here. She’ll be thrilled.” There is not an ounce of sincerity in his words, instead they drip with derision. He leans over and kisses my cheek. My skin crawls at his proximity. “How is your mother? Is she visiting too?”
The man has clearly forgotten I’ve seen the real him more times than I care to remember over the years. I’d been there on numerous occasions when he’d lost his temper with Grayson. I don’t recall a time I ever saw him speak nicely to his son. But back then, I had only been around him in the privacy of his own home. This is clearly the version of himself he puts on for the rest of the world, and there is no way I’m going to stand here making small talk and playing nice with him all evening.
“My mother isn’t here. She is in a rehab facility.” I reply, looking him squarely in the eyes. Grayson stiffens beside me, and Charlotte lets out an audible gasp at my blunt response. It’s not like I’ve made a secret of it, but I’m owning it now. My background is a part of me. I’m not ashamed, and Mr. Banks had judged me from the very first time we met anyway, so you know what? Fuck him.
“I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure catching up Mr. Banks, but… it has not.” I declare boldly.
Mr. Banks’ jaw is slack as I turn and leave them standing on the patio. I remind myself, I do not need to be scared of this man. I’m not an easily intimidated child anymore. I walk quickly back inside towards Dee, who is making her way to our table.
Sitting down next to her, I’m shaking like a leaf despite my display of bravado.
“Are you okay? You’re trembling, darling,” Dee asks me, her concern clear.
“I’m fine.” I manufacture a smile and take a long gulp from the glass of water beside my plate. “Gosh, the food sounds delicious,” I pick up the menu card. “I’ve never tried samphire.” Dee is easily distracted as she describes it’s salty flavour to me, but all I can think about is the look of shame in Grayson’s eyes as Colin Banks spoke to me. It was far too familiar. I wish I could say everyone deserves a second chance, but I truly hate that man.
GRAYSON
Pissing my father off like that probably wasn’t a wise move on Dahlia’s part, but I can’t help but be impressed, as she leaves him standing open-mouthed behind her. There aren’t many people that have left him lost for words over the years, but Dahlia isn’t just anyone. She’s always been the bravest person I know.
“She has never had any manners, that girl!” seethes my father, steam practically billowing from his ears. “She needs to learn her place. How dare she speak to me like that?”
“She really is lower class, Mr. Banks,” soothes Charlotte.
