Love Bites

Recovery

The sun streamed through the curtain-less window of her room. Its rays playing gently with her features, warming them through, bathing her closed eyes in gold.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking rapidly as she adjusted to the light. She took the room in: against one wall stood a plain wooden desk on which stood a lightly tarnished mirror; beside her bed a small bedside table housed a lamp and a clock. The hands read 7.13am. She sat up and pressed, her back against the rickety headboard.

The door clicked open, "You're awake."

                                                                                          ***

Days had passed, Cal had not left the house since Tasha had been whisked away in the ambulance. He'd tried to find out how she was but the stuck up bitch at the nurse's station wouldn't tell him anything because he wasn't immediate family. He'd considered going down there and compelling them to tell him but that would just push Tasha away even more if she found out. He felt torn and anxious and scared and frustrated and...

"Cal?" a voice from the shadows addressed him.

"What Cassandra?" Cal snapped. He was sat in the den, curtains drawn against the watery sun.

"This came for you." She approached him cautiously and handed him a heavy white envelope. His name was penned on the front in beautiful copperplate handwriting. He dismissed Cassandra and tore the envelope open.

Dear Mr Lucien,

Firstly, let me extend my deepest sympathies over the death of your father. He was a good man and a good friend.

I find your request somewhat strange but...

Cal read the letter with keen interest. Things were finally falling into place.

                                                                                    ***

Cassandra hung back in the shadows, watching Cal. She had a good idea who had written to him, but not why. She was curious as to the contents of the letter but when Call folded it carefully, slipped it into his pocket and left, she knew she would not be able to find out straight away. 

Besides, she still had plans to execute.

"Natasha Gionetti, she was on this ward. Where is she?" 

"She was moved to another ward about an hour ago." The kindly looking nurse said.

"Why?"

"Are you immediate family?" she smiled.

"Well, not by blood."

"Go to ward 2 and see if they're accepting visitors."

"Thank you, I will."

Ward 2 had six beds, three on each side but only two were occupied. The one closest to the door by a young girl in her twenties who was sleeping soundly; a clear liquid steadily dripping into a tube connected to her wrist.

In the middle bed on the left lay Tasha. She was pale but otherwise looked okay. Her week in the psyche ward actually looked to have done her some good. However, when she saw Cassandra she scowled.

"What do you want?"

"I came to see how you are. Cal is so worried about you, especially as he hasn't bee able to see you." Cassie explained.

"I don't want to see him. I hate him," Tasha spat turning her face away. 

Cassandra sat down in the chair next to her bed, glanced across the room at sleeping beauty, satisfied she was definitely asleep she turned back to Tasha. "Listen honey, I know what Cal is, believe me, I understand how you feel but Cal truly loves you. And, I think you love him too. I can see it in your eyes. You know you should hate him, fear him, but you don't and it's scaring you. Am I..." Cassie stopped talking as nurse approached and took Tasha's obs. Cassandra waited until the nurse had completely exited the ward before she spoke again. "I know I'm right. It's time to start telling yourself the truth." She stood, giving Tasha a kindly look. "Rest up."

She left, leaving Tasha reeling.

                                                                                   ***

Stepping through her grandparents' front door she was met by a wall of sound.

"Welcome home sweetheart!" He grandma trilled steering her towards the front room. It was strung with streamers, balloons and a banner in garish colours welcoming her back. Her friends stood with glasses charged and Tasha felt an overwhelming surge of both love and trepidation. However, she found herself looking through the sea of faces for Cal and felt a pang of disappointment when she couldn't see him. Stupid girl.

"Too much?" Simon whispered, clocking the look on her face.

"No! it's lovely, really. Just what I needed," she lied, rearranging her features to connect with what she was saying.

"Okay, if you say so." Simon said disbelievingly. "Tash, what happened between you and Cal? I really though you two were for keeps."

"Jesus Simon, have some tact boy!" Sarah scolded him, wrapping a protective arm around Tasha's slender shoudlers.

"It's fine," Tasha protested, shrugging Sarah off. "Stop babying me!" 

Sarah stepped back, looking abashed. "Sorry babe. I just..."

Tasha suddenly felt guilty, "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...It's not about Cal. It's just all this." She waved her arm at the party going on a round her. She was starting to crave some peace again. Some solitude. "Sorry."

Simon looked her deep in the eyes, giving her a look that said, I know you're lying. "No worries," he smiled. "We get it."

"Tasha, we have a present for you," her grandma smiled. Her grandfather walked in carrying a huge white box tied with a pink satin bow. He set it on the floor at her feet. Tasha eyed the box, what could her grandparents have bought he that required such a large box. Why did they feel the need to throw her a party and buy her gifts as if it were her birthday, when really she was coming home from hospital after having a nervous breakdown. This was all for them, she thought. To make them feel better for not noticing what was happening to Tasha right under their noses. She wanted to flee from the room. Shut herself in her room and just breath, just be. Instead, she hitched on a smile, knelt down and gently pulled at the bow, then lifted the lid off the box. There, curled up at the bottom, was a gorgeous chocolate Labrador pup.

"Oh my God! He's adorable!" she cooed as she scooped him up into her arms.

"What are you going to call him?" Izzy asked scratching behind his ear.

"Her," her grandfather laughed. "What are you going to call her?"

"Alice," she said without hesitation. Everyone murmured their approval.

                                                                                    ***

Knocking on the door again he huffed. Even over the loud music, surely she could hear him. Sick of waiting Cal called out with his mind. Seconds later the music went off and the door flew open.

"Sorry, I never heard you knocking," Cassandra apologised.

"It's fine. We need to talk," Cal said seriously.

"Err, sure. Come in."

Cal hesitated on the threshold. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to do this. Stepping inside he was suddenly struck with a moment of guilt. He'd never been in Cassandra's room before. He'd never had reason to. Cassie's room was fairly small and meagerly decorated. A bed, cupboard and a dresser were the only furnishings. The room screamed student digs. But she wasn't a student, no, these living quarters had been forced on her by his father, by himself. Now, actually being in the room he felt ashamed that he'd forced such a lifestyle on her.

"What can I help you with?" Cassandra asked, a touch of nervousness in her voice, pricking Cal's conscious once again. She was scared of him. Scared of what he could do to her, and with good reason. She had witnessed first hand his depravity. Had a front row seat for every vile act he'd committed.

"You know what, actually it's fine. Sorry I bothered you Cas." He left. He knew that what he wanted to do and what he had to do were two very different things and now it was time to choose.