1 comments/ 6845 views/ 0 favorites Songs for the Soul Ch. 01 By: youdonwannaknow Not many people like tragic endings, so if you're one of them, I suggest you do not read this story. Fern stared numbly at the photograph she clutched in her hand. She waited for the tears to come, as they always had, but this time they didn't. Perhaps she had no more left to shed. She wasn't alone in the photograph she held so tightly, she was with Ron, her husband of five years, who had told her he wanted a divorce. Still looking at the photograph she recalled how it had been. It had been like any other Sunday morning, she getting breakfast ready and he reading the morning newspaper at the kitchen table. Suddenly, he lowered his paper and uttered the words that were to break her heart. "Fern," he said, looking at her uneasily, "I don't know how to tell you this….hell, there is no way I can break it to you gently. There's someone else in my life Fern, I love her and I want a divorce." Fern had stood, momentarily numbed, her back to him, scarcely able to comprehend the words he had spoken. Unbelieving she asked, "What…what did you say?" "I want a divorce," he repeated, this time more firmly. The words cut into her like a dagger; she had turned and looked at him, struggling to find a response. Finally, she asked dully, "Who is she?" "It's Mandy." Mandy! Mandy was Fern's closest friend; they had been almost like loving sisters since their high school days. They had even gone to college together. Mandy was the one who had introduced Fern to Ron and she had been the matron of honor in their wedding. How could Mandy do this to her? Fern felt her world unraveling, it was spinning and the floor was heaving up and down, she felt bile rising in her throat. "Why--why-why?" beat in her head. The darkness descended bringing merciful oblivion. * * * * * * * * Don't leave me in all this pain Don't leave me out in the rain Come back and bring back my smile Come and take these tears away * * * * * * * * When Fern came to, she was on her bed, Ron hovering close by, sponging her face. She sat up slowly with Ron's help. All that had happened gradually came flooding back to her. The tears flowed. Ron was anxiously fussing over her, but as the mists in her head cleared she pushed him away, saying faintly, "Go away Ron," and then more emphatically, "Just leave me alone for a while, please." Ron retreated. There was so much pain in her voice that he felt it best to leave her alone to sort through her feelings. He felt a bastard for breaking this to her in such a crude way, but what other way was there to say something like that? Ron sighed. He had done the right thing. It wasn't fair to Fern not to tell her, he cursed himself when he heard sobbing coming from behind the closed bedroom door; heart wrenching sobs that spoke of Fern's pain. * * * * * * * * Take back that sad word good-bye Bring back the joy to my life Don't leave me here with these tears Come and kiss that pain away * * * * * * * * Fern had moved out a week later, not able to bear the thought of living with Ron anymore. Divorce papers had arrived a while later, and she signed them without even giving them a second glance. The fact that Mandy was her best friend made the pain of her betrayal even more poignant. She remembered the times Ron and Mandy had gone out together with her consent: To movies, mini golf courses, musicals; things that Fern couldn't attend because of her work. So Ron had gone with Mandy and she had slowly taken her place in Ron's life as partner and lover. She really couldn't blame Ron or Mandy. She had been a fool; careless of the relationship she should have been building, she had left it open for someone else to step in. She blamed herself constantly, berating herself with "What if," "If only," "I should have." If only she had taken time off from work occasionally; if she had been perceptive enough to see the relationship developing between Ron and Mandy. It had been lovely in the beginning, both of them rushing home from work each evening just to be with each other, spending every spare minute in each other's company. Then Fern changed jobs, and became the editor for Lace, a woman's magazine. She was so engrossed in her work that she saw less and less of Ron. Her work had consumed her, and slowly she had begun neglecting her relationship with him. Often arriving home late and exhausted from work, when in bed Ron had begun trying to make love with her, she had said, "Not tonight darling, I'm too tired." She wished she could go back in time and put it right somehow, but she knew that she couldn't. This knowledge only hurt her more, as she thought herself to be a failure as a wife, partner, lover and most of all, a failure as a woman. She went through everyday blaming herself, and ultimately, hurting only herself. * * * * * * * * Un-break my heart Say you'll love me again Undo this hurt you caused When you walked out the door And walked out of my life Un-cry these tears I cried so many nights * * * * * * * * She put the photograph down, not able to look at it anymore. It brought back too many memories; memories that she would rather bury away somewhere; memories that would become the skeletons in her closet. She took the invitation that she had received that morning; it was an invitation to Ron and Mandy's wedding. She smiled a bitter smile. She wouldn't go of course; how could she bear to see them sharing the happiness her neglect had thrown away. Mandy! Fern hated her now. She was supposed to have been her closest friend, but instead she had betrayed her -- betrayed her in the worst possible way a friend could betray. After the divorce Mandy had come to explain, to justify, but Fern had not listened to her and bitterly told her to leave. Ironically, although she blamed herself and Mandy, she never blamed Ron. No; in her eyes, Ron had been the victim of her neglect and Mandy's duplicity. It had been her fault for neglecting him and Mandy's fault for seducing him. * * * * * * * * I need your arms to hold me now The nights are so unkind Bring back those nights when I held you beside me. * * * * * * * * Still holding the invitation, she went to the kitchen, where she tore it into pieces and threw it in the dustbin. Despair gripped her as she contemplated the wedding. A knife lay on the table; she picked it up feeling its sharp edge. It would be so easy. There would be freedom from the misery that racked her; there would be no lonely future; no Ron and Mandy to torment her with their new-found bond. The idea was tempting as she weighed the knife in her hand. Then with sudden resolution the knife came down, slashing first one wrist and then the other. She watched dispassionately as the blood spurted from the severed arteries. It was as if it was happening to someone else. Slowly she sank to the floor; the world was slipping away, the shadows gradually creeping over her as she lay in her own blood. Then all was blackness. Her pain was over now. A big Thank You to my editor Ray who edited this story for me. Please do vote, and leave comments or send feedback, if you have the time. I really appreciate hearing from you. This song has been sung by Toni Braxton. The lyrics are entirely the singers' and I will not take any credit for them as I have not written them or edited them. The song is just a way to fill in the gaps in the story effectively. Songs for the Soul Ch. 02 Joan ran up the stairs to her apartment, checking her watch and muttering, "I'm late." Arriving at her door she slipped the key in and unlocked it. As soon as it opened she ran towards the ringing phone, and picking it up she sank onto the couch. "Hello, Joan?" the voice on the other end asked. A faint smile appeared on Joan's face. "Fred darling," she replied, the smile growing broader.. "Were you out? This is my third call." Fred, her fiancé said, the smile on his face mirroring Joan's as he leant against the wall of the pay phone he was using. "Oh!" Joan said, "I'm so sorry love, I got caught up at work. You won't believe what happened…" And so the conversation went on into the night for Joan, and into the afternoon for Fred. * * * * * * * * * * * Oceans apart day after day And I slowly go insane I hear your voice on the line But it doesn't stop the pain * * * * * * * * * * * * "You're going where?" Joan had cried as she looked at Fred. "New Zealand." Fred replied apprehensively. Joan rarely got worked up over things, but this was one of those times. "New Zealand! Do you have any idea how far away that is, and for a year? How could you accept this project without discussing it with me?" Joan said, agitatedly, " "I know Joan, but it's an excellent opportunity for me. If I can oversee the construction on this building properly, and do a good job, I'll be able to get that promotion I've been working for. Come on Joan, please try and understand," Fred said, attempting to placate her. "Understand! You're asking me to understand? How would you feel if I told you I was going to go away for a year to some strange country, and without even discussing it with you?" Joan asked, not willing to listen to whatever Fred was trying to tell her. He had done things that agitated her before, but this was too much. "You could come with me." Fred said quietly, looking at Joan. "We don't have to be apart; you could come." "You know I can't." Joan snapped. "I have a lot of patients scheduled for surgery in the next two months. I can't leave all that and come with you. It's just not possible. But you don't have that sort of commitment. You can still say no; please don't go." Joan said. "I have a commitment too Jo," Fred said, his voice now hardening. "I've given my word." Joan looked at him, not able to believe what she was hearing. Fred had committed to going for a whole year without even asking her? She struggled to compose herself and said quietly, "You've made your decision, and I've made mine so there's nothing more to be said." Fred moved to embrace her, but Joan pushed him away. Fred sighed and said, "I don't want it to be like this Joan." Joan said, coldly, "You should have thought of that when you took this up this project without consulting me. Now please leave." The 'please' came out as a whisper, a whisper that barely hid Joan's pain. Fred stared at her for a moment; she did not return his gaze. He the turned and left. * * * * * * * * * I took for granted, all the times that I thought would last somehow I hear the laughter, I taste the tears But I can't get near you now * * * * * * * * * * Fred and Joan stayed apart; Fred sulking and Joan constantly breaking down in tears, but both convinced they were right. Fred had arrived two days after they had their fight, to pick up his things. Joan had watched in stony silence as he packed. After that day, they did everything possible to avoid each other, although it was breaking their hearts, but pride had reared its ugly head. More than two weeks to go before Fred had to leave, but they were busy ones for him. He had to get a lot of things to get in order before he could go, so he had taken leave of absence from work and was tying up the loose ends. He and Joan were still not speaking to each other, despite their friends' attempts to get them back together again. Both were still bitter and angry, and refused to even see each other. News of the separation reached Fred's sister, Freya. Knowing how deeply committed to each other Fred and Joan had been, she flew in from New York to find out what was going on. Freya first spoke with Joan, and then Fred. After much persuasion and cajoling she managed to get them both to agree to talk to each other at least once before Fred left. So, on the Saturday before he was due to leave Fred and Joan met in a restaurant they both liked and might prove to be neutral ground. When Fred arrived, he found Joan already sitting at one of the tables, staring at the wall before her. He made his way to the table and sat down, not meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry," Joan said softly; Fred looked at her. "I'm sorry," Joan repeated, "sorry that I refused to listen. It was just that I was confused and angry, because you didn't ask me before you made your decision. I understand what this means for you, and I'm sorry, I was inconsiderate." It wasn't easy for her to say these words, but after Freya had talked to her, she had come to understand that Fred had to do this to fulfill his dream, and he'd had no intention of hurting her. She had over reacted, and now regretted it. Fred, hearing her apology, was stunned. He felt that he too had an apology to make. He put his fingers under Joan's chin and lifted her face up to his so that he could look into her eyes. "And I'm sorry too," he said, "for not having discussed it before I said yes to the job. It was wrong of me; but to be truthful I knew that if I had asked, you would have said no." Joan smiled sadly; he was right of course, she would have said no. They kept the conversation light throughout dinner, not wanting to say anything that might disrupt this moment of truth and tenderness between them, and most of all, not wanting to mention anything that might finally bring to a bitter end their relationship. It was when Fred was driving Joan home that they actually talked frankly. This time, Fred took the initiative. Joan was looking out the window when she noticed that he was going the wrong way. Instead of turning into the street that led to her apartment, he had turned into a park. Puzzled, she looked at him as he switched the engine off. "Jo," he said uncertainly, "I'm going away, but the truth is, Jo, I love you. These past two weeks have been hell without you. Even when I'm gone, I still need to know that I can always come back to you. I love you Jo, and I want to come back to you." Joan looked at Fred. Then without warning, tears began to stream down her face. "Don't you realize how much I'm going to miss you?" she wept. "I know darling," Fred said, "but if you'll wait for me, I swear I'll be faithful to you." That night in the apartment they loved each other as they had never done before, secure in the knowledge that theirs was a bond that would not be defiled. * * * * * * * * Wherever you go Whatever you do I will be right here waiting for you Whatever it takes Or how my heart breaks I will be right here waiting for you * * * * * * * * * * * * The Qantas aircraft stood whining softly, just beyond the departure lounge. Fred held Joan in his arms. "I'll come back to you my love." "I know, my darling," Joan murmured. They kissed and Fred left her, joining the other passengers as they boarded the aircraft and shortly after it taxied to the runway; it paused, then the engines roared and gathering speed it took off. Joan watched the aircraft until it was a mere dot in the sky. There was something she had not told him; something that might have stopped him from leaving. She wondered how he would feel when he returned to meet the child she now carried in her womb ---------------------- Once again, a big thanks to my editor Ray, who looked through this submission carefully, even rewriting it where necessary. Thank you so much Ray. The lyrics used in this submission are from Richard Marx's song - Right here waiting. Its a lovely song, that I suggest you listen to. Thanks for reading me, and please vote. Any feedback I get is very important to me, so, if time permits, also leave a comment, on what you think of the story. Thank you. Songs for the Soul Ch. 03 Mark grinned as he watched his wife, Kate, reading to the kids at their church social. She had the children laughing at the funny faces she made and the various voices she used to dramatize the characters in the story. He loved this gentle and caring side of her. Looking at her with the kids, he wondered how it would be if they had a baby of their own. Not bad, he decided. He could hear the faint strains of music playing from the bandstand some little distance away, but he wasn't paying much attention. The band changed the tune and Mark's attention was suddenly focused on the song they were playing. It was the song that Kate held dear and had insisted that it had to be played at both their engagement and wedding. When he first heard it, it touched Mark's heart. It described their love perfectly. As he listened he went down memory lane to the time when he had been utterly without hope; to the time he first met Kate. * * * * * * * * I never understood before I never knew what love was for my heart was broke, my head was sore. What a feeling * * * * * * * * "No Bryan, I'm not going out with anybody," Mark said irritably to his younger brother. "Why not?" Bryan demanded. "This isn't still about Candice is it?" Mark increased the volume of the TV and didn't reply. Bryan snatched the remote from him and switched the set off. Mark sighed. "Who is it this time?" he asked wearily, knowing that he would have to go out with whoever his brother set him up with if he wanted to avoid a big argument. "Kate." Bryan replied. "She works at the café." Mark tried to remember her. "Wasn't she in your class at high school?" "Yeah." Bryan replied. "She used to have a big crush on you back then." "Oh." Mark said, trying to appear interested, but really wanting to curl up in a corner. "I've told her you'll pick her up today at seven," Bryan said, "and take her out to a movie and dinner. She'll be under the impression that I'll be coming too, so just tell her I was sick when she asks why I didn't show up." "And why am I to escort this lovely lady?" Mark asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. "Because its time you started having a life again." Bryan replied curtly. "You can't let what Candice did to you spoil your whole life. She really isn't worth it." "Yeah, right." Mark muttered under his breath as his brother stalked out of the room. * * * * * * * * I never saw it happening I'd given up and given in I just couldn't take the hurt again What a feeling * * * * * * * * Mark showed up at Kate's place at seven, a box of chocolates in his hand. He rang the doorbell and waited, trying to figure out a way to end this date as quickly as possible. The door was opened by a girl slightly shorter than his 6 foot frame. She wasn't obviously pretty, but she had a lovely engaging smile and large expressive eyes. "Come in." she said brightly, "Where's Bryan?" "He wasn't feeling very well." Mark said, as he handed her the box of chocolates. "He really should try some other excuse." Kate said, taking the box from Mark and putting it away. "Thank you for the chocolates." "No problem." Mark replied, intrigued. How did she know what Bryan was up to? She smiled as she sensed his puzzlement, and said, "Bryan keeps doing this. He asks me to go on a double date with his girlfriend and her 'brother' and when its time for the date, he and his girlfriend decide not to show up; I'm used to it." "And you aren't mad at him?" Mark asked, amused. "No." Kate laughed. "He means well. He's just an inveterate matchmaker and isn't very subtle about it, that's all." Mark laughed along with Kate, and began to feel that this might turn out to be a pleasant evening after all. They left Kate's apartment and went to the local cinema. When they came out after two hours, they were laughing and completely at ease with each other as they discussed the movie. They then went to a small restaurant near the cinema and had a light dinner. As it was already ten Kate and Mark decided to call it a night because Kate had an early morning ahead of her. Mark dropped Kate off at her flat. Before she got out, an invitation for another evening was issued, and gracefully accepted. When Mark reached home that night, he was feeling good. "So, how did it go?" Bryan asked when Marked walked in. "Pretty good actually," Mark replied. "And yes, you should try using another excuse next time. She knows exactly what you're doing." "Going out with her again?" Bryan asked. "Yes." Mark said, and went up to his room, not wishing to be interrogated further. As Bryan too made his way up to bed, he thought, "I hope Kate manages to pull Mark out of his depression. If she can't, no one else can." * * * * * * * * Tied up in ancient history I didn't believe in destiny I look up you're standing next to me what a feeling. * * * * * * * * Mark and Kate went out frequently after that, enjoying each other's company. Although things seemed to be going well, Kate could sense a certain amount of hesitation on Mark's part whenever they were together, and this worried her. She never asked anything, thinking that he would tell her when he was ready to. One night she opened the door to find a very drunk Mark leaning against the wall. Surprised, and a little scared, she pulled him inside and got him to lie down in her bedroom. Mark never drank much, always restricting himself to one bottle of beer or just one or two glasses of wine. Finding him like this was disturbing. After about half an hour of drunken rambling about a girl called Candice who had broken his heart, Mark dozed off. Kate covered him up and immediately went to call Bryan. "Hello?" "Bryan, it's Kate; I have Mark here completely drunk, and I want to know what's going on." "Oh no, it's that day again." Bryan groaned. "What day?" "The day Candice dumped him." "Yeah, he was talking about Candice. Who is she? Care to tell me what happened?" "It's a long story," Bryan said, hoping that she wouldn't press him to tell. "I have lots of time." "Fine; I guess you really should know. Mark had been going out with Candice since college. After he graduated they moved in together and they stayed together for 6 years. One day Mark went home to find Candice gone and all the money in the house was missing. She'd not left him a letter or anything, she'd just left." "What a bitch!" "Mark's always blamed himself; thought that he wasn't good enough for her. This is probably the reason why Mark's in such bad shape, the anniversary of being dumped. Do you want me to come and pick him up?" "No, that's fine. I'll take care of him." "I'm sure you will. Goodnight Kate and thanks." "For what?" "You'll see." And with that cryptic comment, Bryan hung up. Sighing, Kate went back to the bedroom to check on Mark. He was fast asleep. Shaking her head, she changed and curled up beside him, hugging him to her. In moments, she was fast asleep. * * * * * * * * I didn't have the strength to fight Suddenly you seemed so right Me and you What a feeling * * * * * * * * After that night, things between Mark and Kate seemed to get better. Kate understood and was there for Mark when he needed her. As for Mark, he slowly began to get over Candice. He started to see Kate in a new light. At first, it had only been casual dating; now it went much, much deeper. Bryan watched the growing relationship between Kate and Mark with satisfaction. It was plain to see that they were made for each other. He just wondered when Mark would finally get around to asking her to marry him. Six months later, in a small pub, Mark proposed to Kate. Kate accepted, and they were married two months later in a small church wedding. * * * * * * * * * Love will remain a mystery But give me your hand and you will see Your heart is keeping time with me What a feeling in my soul Love burns brighter than sunshine It's brighter than sunshine Let the rain fall, I don't care I'm yours and suddenly you're mine Suddenly you're mine * * * * * * * * Mark got up from the tree he was sitting under and made his way to Kate through a small crowd of giggling children. Making an apologetic gesture to the kids, he said, "I'm sorry to drag my wife away from you, but this is a song to which we just have to dance." He took Kate over to the small square in front of the bandstand where a few couples were dancing. They started dancing, swaying in time to the music. Their bodies fitted perfectly, they were made for each other. And on that morning, anyone who saw them would certainly agree that their love was brighter than sunshine. ----------------------- As usual, a huge thanks to my editor Ray, who sat through the whole story and edited it (a painful task, trust me). The song I've used here is by Aqualung- Brighter than sunshine. Its an amazing song, you really should listen to it sometime. All the credit for the lyrics goes to the band alone. I have not written them or changed them in any way. Songs for the Soul Ch. 04 This story is of my creation, and the only other copy of it that exists is in there somewhere in my imagination. The song however, belongs to a great group, and well, you should listen to the song, its lovely! And yeah, like most of my other stories, not much of erotica, so if you're looking for steamy sex then well, I suggest you click on the Back button of your browser and read another story ^_^ *********** "He who loves the more is the inferior and must suffer." (Thomas Mann) Rylie stood in a corner trying to avoid the happy laughing people who filled the room; but at a party, especially a Christmas party, it was nigh on impossible to have the solitude her misery desired. People kept coming to her talking, asking about her plans for the holiday season. She was polite; replying with a forced smile on her lips, trying to hide the pain she felt inside. She hadn't wanted to be there, and she was only there because her friend Frieda had shamed her into attending. "It will be Delia's last Christmas party before she goes overseas and it'll be awful if you don't attend," Frieda had admonished, and Rylie, too depressed to argue, had allowed Frieda to persuade her. She could see him, it was hard not to. He stood in the middle of the room, his wife at his side, and a group of people around him. She couldn't blame them; he was charismatic and people were drawn to him like bees drawn to nectar. "You were one of those people," a mocking voice in her head reminded her. Yes, she used to be one of those people, and still was in a wretched way. But now she was experiencing that agonizing mixture of love and hate -- hate because of what he had done to her and yet love because she still desired him. * * * * * * * Last Christmas, I gave you my heart But the very next day, You gave it away This year, to save me from tears I'll give it to someone special * * * * * * * Matt watched Rylie as she stood in the corner of the room, her eyes fixed on Dylan. His heart ached for her as he watched the expression on her face; an expression of hatred and yet mingled with deep longing. He knew she still ached for Dylan despite all he had done to her. Matt tried to ignore her pain, but he couldn't. He had loved Rylie for the past two years but she never saw him as anything but a friend; she only had eyes for Dylan. He had thought that she would eventually give up on Dylan because he at first failed to notice her, but then he did start taking notice. He saw in Rylie someone whom he could use to meet his sexual needs when his wife, Georgia, was away on one of her business trips. Rylie, blinded by his charm and good looks, had entered into a passionate affair with him. He had first inveigled her into his bed with words of love, and it never occurred to her that he was just using her as a comfort woman in his wife's absence. She thought that he genuinely loved her, but time had proved her wrong. The previous Christmas, when Rylie, tired of having to share him, asked him to divorce Georgia , he had told her blatantly that his wife was far more important to him than her. It was then it became clear that he'd only been using her. Devastated, it was to Matt that she turned for comfort, and he had held her as she wept her misery. * * * * * * * Once bitten and twice shy I keep my distance but you still catch my eye Tell me baby do you recognize me? Well it's been a year, it doesn't surprise me I wrapped it up and sent it With a note saying "I Love You" I meant it Now I know what a fool I've been But if you kissed me now I know you'd fool me again * * * * * * ' Matt went to Rylie now, to see if he could once more offer his comfort. "How are you doing?" he asked her softly, giving her a hug. "Not so good," Rylie whispered, glad that Matt was there. "It's just that he doesn't care. I mean, look at him, parading around in front of me with his wife like that, knowing full well what he did to me "But you must have known this would happen Rylie," Matt said, looking into her troubled face, "You knew - you must have known." "Yes I suppose I did deep down," Rylie admitted miserably, "but we often don't listen to our inner wisdom and I'd hoped it would be otherwise." "Do you still love him?" Matt asked. Rylie shrugged her shoulders hopelessly saying. "I was so besotted with him - maybe I still am, but at least now I can blame him for a lot of what happened rather than take all the blame myself." "That's something I suppose," Matt said, glancing across at Dylan and wishing he could punish him for what he had done to Rylie. Neither of them said anything for a while, just standing in the corner and sipping their drinks; Rylie, her eyes still on Dylan and Matt gazing sorrowfully at her. * * * * * * * A crowded room, friends with tired eyes I'm hiding from you and your soul of ice My God I thought you were someone to rely on Me? I guess I was a shoulder to cry on * * * * * * * * As he watched Rylie in her pain, the words he had longed to say to her welled up in Matt. "You know I love you, Rylie." "Oh Matt," Rylie said, turning to look into his eyes. "You know…." Matt turned away from her, trying to compose himself. When he had control over his emotions, he turned to see Rylie looking at him with concern in her eyes. He smiled, trying to assure her that he was okay. "I know." He said. "But I needed to get that out." Rylie touched his cheek softly; she opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by Georgia, who had chosen that moment to make an announcement. "Attention everyone." Georgia said, her shrill voice sounding loud in the room "Dylan and I have some lovely news, and we want all of you to share our happiness. We're having a baby." Rylie choked and began to feel the room spinning around her. She leaned back against Matt, who had abandoned his drink when he saw Rylie looking as if she was going to faint. He held her firmly, his heart aching for her. Rylie was breathing heavily, still trying to take in what she'd heard. Matt, realizing that Rylie was in shock drew her gently her out of the room and onto a small balcony. Once there, Rylie began to regain the power of speech and her breathing steadied. Tears running down her face, she asked matt, "How could he do this?" Matt hugged her to him, and let her cry. When she had quieted down a bit, he pushed her away from him and handed her his handkerchief. Rylie took it and wiped her face, drying up her tears. "Matt, will you come with me?" Rylie asked when she had finished. "Where?" Matt asked, thinking that he would have gone with her even if she hadn't asked. He didn't trust her to be alone when she was like this. "Anywhere away from here." "Sure." Matt agreed. Anywhere away from here was a good idea. He at least needed to get Rylie out of this party in case she broke down again. They went back into the room, and Matt left Rylie in a corner as he said the necessary goodbyes. Finished, he led her out and into his car. He drove her to a small park that both of them frequented. He sat her down on a bench under a tree and held her as she cried again. They sat like that for a long while, Rylie sobbing into her friend's shoulder, Matt murmuring into her hair in an attempt to soothe her. When Rylie finally pulled away, there was a strange look in her eyes. Before Matt could say or do anything, she had pulled his face down to hers and kissed him fervently. Mustering all his willpower, he pulled away from her, holding her at arm's length when she tried to kiss him again. "Not like this." He said quietly, watching as her eyes showed him the myriad emotions that she were flickering through her; emotions of pain, confusion, anger and finally resignation. "Why not?" She asked, "I know you want to." "Yes, but I'm not going to be a stand in for anybody. You know that I love you Rylie…." "Then why the hell not?" she was angry now. "Because you'll have this night, but tomorrow, you'll hate me. I need you to accept me for me Rylie. I don't want to be a substitute for anyone," Matt said, trying hard to keep the frustration and the hurt out of his voice. "You're right." She sighed. "I'm sorry." "It's okay." Matt said, pulling her close to him. "It's a normal reaction. You're hurt and I guess I looked like someone who would ease the pain. But not like that Rylie." He wiped away the tears that were streaming down her cheeks, holding her tenderly, offering her all the comfort he could. "Can I stay with you tonight?" Rylie asked in a small voice, expecting him to refuse. But she asked anyway, because she knew he was the only one who really, truly cared for her, and she needed someone who cared right now. "You know you can," Matt said gently, his eyes reassuring her. "Now let's get home before both of us catch the chill of our lives. I don't know about you, but I want to spend Christmas hale and hearty, not in bed with pneumonia!" That last comment made her laugh and she allowed herself to be led to his car. He helped her into the passenger seat and got into the car beside her. He pulled out of the park and drove to his apartment, turning to look at Rylie every so often. When they were about halfway there, he noticed that Rylie had fallen asleep. Chuckling to himself, he concentrated on getting to the apartment quickly. Once they reached it, he carried her up, not wanting to wake her. He changed her out of her dress into his spare pajamas. Making sure that the heating in the room was all right; he tucked her into the bed and kissed her lightly on the forehead before going to bed himself. It had been a long day, a very long day indeed. **************** This year, to save me from tears I'll give it to someone special ************** Rylie woke up the next day to the inviting smell of baking and coffee. She was disoriented for a few moments, and then as memories of the previous night flooded back she flushed and buried her face in her hands as she recalled her behavior with Matt. She got out of bed reluctantly, not wanting to face Matt. But she had to, she knew that. She made her way to the kitchen, where all the delicious smells were emanating from. She found Matt mixing up some cookie batter at the kitchen counter. She spotted a plate of still-warm cookies on the table and looked at them longingly. "Good morning Matt." Rylie said, a bit uncomfortably. "Good morning." Matt replied cheerfully, turning to give her a quick smile before he turned back to the batter. "There's coffee too, so help yourself." She too a cookie and bit into it, savouring the lovely flavour before she replied "I will." Rylie mumbled. "Listen Matt, about last night…." "No need to apologize." Matt said quietly, trying not to turn and look at her. He knew that if he did that, she would see the hurt in his eyes. "You were confused, angry and sad." "Even then…" Rylie said, but her voice trailed off as he turned and silenced her with a look. "I said it was okay." Matt said, and began laying out the batter onto butter paper, "by the way, merry Christmas." "It's Christmas?" Rylie asked mildly surprised. Then, she remembered the events of last night. "Oh yeah, it is. A merry Christmas to you too. "Thanks." Matt said. "Your present's under the tree in the living room." "You put up a tree?" Rylie asked in surprise. She knew that Matt hated putting up Christmas trees. He said that it just reminded him of the time his sister got divorced. Putting up Christmas trees had always been a rather big affair in his sister's house, but when his brother had walked out on her, she stopped putting them up. He hated putting up trees because it always reminded him of the time his sister went from being a bubbly, vivacious, outgoing person to a sad and quiet person who let no one inside her shell. "Yeah well, Fred and Joan are coming over with Darien and Jesse today. You know how those kids are." "Yeah." Rylie said. "Do you want me to clear out? I mean, with Joan coming over…" "Absolutely not!" Matt said. "You know the kids love your company. And I'll need help with all this baking." "Me, bake? You must be mad." Rylie laughed. "You've got to learn sometime." Matt said firmly. "Now finish that coffee and you can help with a few pies." Rylie just rolled her eyes heavenward and poured out a mug of coffee before she went to help Matt. ****************** I've got you here to stay I can love you for a day *********** "I want the blue one!" Darien wailed when his sister Jesse picked up a present. "But I picked it up first!" Jesse retorted and walked off with the precious parcel. Joan, seeing that open warfare could break out at any moment, went after Jesse and Rylie comforted Darien . Fred and Matt were in the kitchen, clearing away the dishes. "Oh, its okay, there are plenty of presents left. See there? There's a red one. Now, isn't red a prettier colour than blue? Why don't you take that, and we'll open it together." Rylie soothed Darien while handing him a packed parcel from beneath the small tree. "Okay." Darien nodded, and began to tear the beautiful paper apart to get to his present. Satisfied that he was okay, Rylie went into the kitchen to help the guys. After having helped Matt, Rylie had borrowed Matt's car and gone to her apartment to shower and collect Matt's present. Now, as she helped the men, she wondered if he would like what she had gotten him. Matt loved baseball, and was the proud owner of a rather large collection of baseball cards. There was this one card that he hadn't been able to collect, and Rylie had found it. That was her Christmas present. It was very old, so she'd had it frame to keep it from falling apart. She hoped he would like it. Matt was wondering the same thing. He had gotten her jewelry, a beautiful sapphire pendent on a thin, almost transparent platinum chain and matching earrings. It had cost him a bundle, but he got it for her anyway, in his eyes Rylie was worth it. Joan came into the kitchen, looking irritated. She stood alongside Rylie and helped her wipe up. Fred quietly urged Matt out of the room under the pretext of wanting to see his collection. "Are you still hung up on Dylan?" Joan asked when she was sure the men were out of earshot. Rylie looked at her thoughtfully. "I don't really know." "Well, you'd better make up your mind, because I think its time you stopped brooding over that louse and started thinking about Matt." Rylie looked up, surprised. "I know he's been head over heels in love with you for two years now. And you don't even seem to know. He isn't going to tell you, so I thought I might," Joan continued, looking carefully over at the young woman standing next you her. "Well, you're wrong about one thing, he told me last night," Rylie said, not knowing exactly where this was leading. "He did?" asked Joan, sounding surprised that her brother had done such a thing. "And what did you say?" "Nothing," replied Rylie truthfully, and apprehensively. "Nothing? A guy like Matt tells you he loves you, and you said nothing? Rylie, you must be the stupidest person on earth!" "I know." Rylie admitted, "But I'm still hung up with Dylan, and well, I just don't think I'll be able to give Matt what he deserves. Besides, I've always thought of Matt as a friend; never as anything else." "Its time you got over Dylan." Joan said firmly, "and as for seeing Matt only as a friend, you must be blind. I've seen you two together. You're even worse than a married couple. He'd give his life for you, and you'd probably do the same for him. If that isn't love, then I don't know what is!" "But Joan…" Rylie pleaded. "Don't 'but Joan' me;' you know I'm right. And as for your feelings, I think you need to do a bit of soul-searching and figure out what exactly you felt for Dylan and what exactly you feel for Matt," Joan said, a hint of anger in her voice. She saw the hurt and confusion in Rylie's eyes, and relenting she pulled the girl to her in a hug. "You and Matt are my two most favourite people in the world, and I'd give anything to see the pair of you happy. You don't have to jump into anything, but promise me you'll think about it." "I promise." Rylie said, and knew that she would think about it. ************** Indeed, Rylie did think about it when she got home that night, she thought about it a lot. It was painful, dredging up all those memories of Dylan, but she felt that she owed it to Matt. Slowly, but very surely, she came to realize that Joan was right. She did love Matt, but she had loved Dylan as well. It was different with both of them. With Dylan, it was burning passion and lust. With Matt, it was much quieter, subtler. It was trust and affection. She also knew that Matt would never hurt her, and that Dylan always would, as he had proved to her a year before. Life with Dylan would have been filled with arguments fights, and probably his infidelities. With Matt, she suspected that it would be love, passion and a lot of understanding and happiness She recalled all the little things Matt had done for her. She also remembered the things she had done for Dylan. She had let him use her, body and soul. Unconsciously, her hand went to the pendant that hung from its slender chain. It was the present Matt had given her. She realized what she was doing and smiled. She carefully unclasped the chain and looked at the pendant. It was a beautiful sapphire in a setting of platinum; simple, elegant and expensive. This was another thing; Matt knew what she liked and what she didn't; he knew how she would respond. In fact, she was willing to bet that he knew her inside out. She knew that a relationship with Matt would be wonderful. But she also knew that it would be hard for both of them until she could finally see him as someone more than a friend. She kept thinking about this the whole night. When she finally got to sleep, it was nearly six a.m. but she slept with a smile on her face, for she had made her decision. And she knew that it was the right one. *************** A face on a lover with a fire in his heart A girl under cover but you tore me apart Tore me apart Now I've found a real love you'll never fool me again ***** "Hello?" Matt said into the receiver. "Matt? It's Rylie. I was wondering if you'd be able to go out to dinner with me tonight." "Tonight? It's New Year's Eve Rylie. No restaurant would be free." "No, actually, I've got a reservation at the Regency. Please tell me that you'll come." "Okay." Matt sighed. He really didn't want to go, but he couldn't refuse her anything. "Great!" Rylie said and quickly hung up. Matt stared at the receiver in his hand, as though he couldn't quite believe what had just happened. He shook his head and replaced the receiver in the cradle and went to complete some work. **************** Rylie was consumed by nervousness when 7:30 arrived. She was dressed and ready to go, but she kept adjusting her clothes or hair in the mirror, hoping that she looked good. She mentally chastised herself. She was acting like a teenager on her first date. But in a way, it was. It was a date with Matt. This was special. Matt rang her doorbell at 7:45, on time as always. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, hoping that he liked what he saw. Yes, Matt did like what he saw, in fact he was speechless. She looked extraordinarily beautiful tonight. She was wearing a simple blue sheath, which she coupled with the jewelry had given her for Christmas. "Ready to go?" he managed to croak out and offered her his hand. "Yes." Rylie smiled and placed her hand in his. Songs for the Soul Ch. 04 They arrived at the Regency at 8 o'clock. It was filled with partygoers, but the table that they were taken to was secluded. It was set in a small intimate corner. They ordered, each covering up their nervousness with easy chatter. It was during dessert that Rylie finally got up the nerve to tell him. "Listen Matt," she said quietly, uncertainly, "I know it's been a rough year, and an even rougher week. And I also know that it's because of me. Well, the reason I called you today was to let you know that well, I like you. I really do. I've liked you, maybe even loved you for two years now." "I've always written off those feelings as sisterly, but they aren't. I can't deny it any longer. Even though I was with Dylan, it was you I trusted, you were the person I came to when I had a problem." "I've gotten over Dylan now, and I'm scared. But I trust you; so I'm hoping that we can work on a relationship. That is, if you feel the same way." Matt looked at her searchingly for a few moments, deeply touched by her tender words and unable to make an immediate response; was Dylan at last gone from her life? "Are you sure?" he asked softly. Rylie nodded and looked down, still not able to meet his eyes. He stretched his hands across the table to take hers. Rylie raised her head to look into his eyes, and there she saw the depths of his love for her. "I've waited so long, so long for this," Matt said, "But, are you really, really sure? Just a few days back you were heart broken about Dylan. Are you sure you aren't on the rebound?" "I might be." Rylie said thoughtfully, "But I still want to try Matt. I really want to." Matt smiled at her, and squeezed her hands before he returned to his dessert. They finished their food and decided to go to the park for a brief walk. They walked hand in hand, talking quietly and spasmodically, absorbing the newfound intimacy between them. This intimacy assured them that there was no need for anything to be said. They trusted each other, and that was enough. The evening grew cold and they decided to return home. When Matt walked Rylie to her door, she invited him in. "No Rylie." He said. "Not now." "Now." Rylie said firmly. "I need this Matt. I know its fast, but I do need it." There was something in Rylie's tone of voice and eyes that touched Matt deeply, and he came in. The minute Rylie closed and locked the door; he took her in his arms, kissing her tenderly. She clung to him, as if he was a lifeline. The kisses were soft and gentle, so unlike the demanding kisses that Dylan had given her. Matt slowly coaxed her lips open and explored her mouth, tasting the sweetness of it. Rylie kissed him back with everything she had, desperately trying to show him how much he meant to her. Taking him by the hand she led him to her bedroom, and there, he slowly and gently undressed her as if she was some frail and precious object. Looking at her naked body he murmured, "You're very lovely." And yes, she was lovely, she was lovely for Matt. They made love passionately, each hungry for the other. After they made love, they nestled close to each other and talked about the future; future that seemed brighter to both because they knew that whatever happened, they would always be there for each other. It was nearly dawn when they got to sleep, Matt holding Rylie close. Their hands were entwined, and each had a beautiful smile on their face. This was the first time they had slept well in ages. This was the first time that they slept with the knowledge that there was someone who cared deeply for them - that someone loved them very, very much. This year, to keep her from tears, she really had given it to someone special. ************ And thats a wrap! As usual, all the credit for this story must go to Ray. I have no idea how he can actually sit down and correct all the mistakes I make, but he does, and in my estimation, that gives him the top shelf. the song is by Wham! and the entire credit for the story goes to them! Its the 14th today, and well, I just hope to have this posted before Christmas. A Merry Christmas to all! Happy Holidays! Songs for the Soul Ch. 05 After a lot of cajoling and pleading and pregnancy hormones which just seem to love sappy romance, I'm back to writing again. Its been a long time, so I'm a bit rusty, although my editor and fried Ray has done his bit and made the writing beautiful. Thanks Ray. This is a tragedy, mind, so don't read and then tell me you don't like sad endings. Please comment and vote! Of course, the song is "I'm through" by Blake Lewis. The song is entirely his and I have not modified it in whole or part. I claim no credit for the lyrics. Zara * Kirsten gazed despondently out of her office window at the black clouds rising above the horizon to gradually mask the blue of a summer sky. The gathering gloom seemed to blend with her mood. She sighed and murmured, "A storm in summer, well, if there's going to be one, no point in trying to avoid or delay it." She quickly shut down her computer, put away all her files, and picking up her bag made her way out of her office, rather dreading the short walk home. "Not home," she reminded herself, "Aidan's flat." By the time she left the building and reached the sidewalk it had started drizzling, presaging the coming storm. She opened her umbrella and began walking. She was jostled by other pedestrians, scurrying to avoid the rain, but she didn't mind. Today, she welcomed it. It helped take her mind off what she was about to do. She quickened her pace, flowing with the crowd, common sense telling her to find shelter quickly. She thought about where she would be staying tonight. Her friend Sheila had agreed to let her stay until sorted things out. Her things in the apartment were a problem. She didn't want to take them away today. She sighed. She supposed she would just have to wait and see. The storm broke, lightening flashing and the sonorous rolling of the thunder. The rain was bucketing down and she sought temporary shelter in a shop doorway. Unbidden, an image of Aidan's hurt green eyes looking into her own sprang into her mind. She knew that she would be facing those eyes once she had said what she intended to say. "Oh Aidan," she sighed, and then firmly pushed the image away. It had to be done, for both their sakes. Why had it reached this point? She wondered; it had all been so wonderful in the beginning. The downpour eased to a steady drizzle, and she continued on her way. * * * * * * * * Right back where we started, Falling apart at the seams. You tagged your name on my heart And I sat there and let it bleed. * * * * * * * * She recalled the first time she had met Aidan . "Meet who?" Kirsten had asked, looking at her friend Sheila with a mixture of surprise and excitement on her face. "Aidan Gregory," Sheila replied with a smug look on her face. "I managed to get us invites to Kenna's party, and she told me that he would definitely be there, since he's Drew's friend." "Oh God, I can't believe you managed to do that!" Kirsten exclaimed. "Well, I just did, and you'll finally be able to meet your literary hero, and maybe after that, you can start acting like a normal person again, instead of constantly gushing about him," Sheila said, a wicked glint in her eye. "Ever since you started reading his novels, you're acting as though he's the only novelist who's worth reading." "He's good," Kirsten said defensively, but she knew that Sheila was right; she had become obsessed with Aidan Gregory's books. Ever since she had started reading them she could talk of nothing else. She especially loved his book of poetry. Penetrating yet sensitive, reading his poems was like looking into her self; she felt them to be a mirror images of her soul. She really could not understand why Sheila didn't seem to think as highly of him as she did. "Not my taste in literature," Sheila had said after reading all the Gregory books Kirsten had loaned her. "I prefer mysteries and thrillers." Kirsten had always wanted to meet him, and maybe even do the jacket illustration for his next book. "So, be there tonight, eight o'clock," Sheila told her as she got up from the table and signalled for the waiter to give Kirsten the bill. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," Kirsten said almost to herself, as she gazed at her glass with a smile on her lips. * * * * * * * * * * * * "There he is!" Kirsten had said excitedly when she spotted Aidan standing in one corner of the spacious room, surrounded by a small knot of admirers. "Yes, there he is, and he isn't going to run away, so stop pulling me so hard," Sheila said, as Kirsten eagerly dragged her through the crowd toward Aidan. "Hi, I'm Kirsten Fields," Kirsten introduced herself. "And this is my friend Sheila Warner. We're both big fans of your work." Kirsten nudged Sheila in her ribs when her friend started to chuckle. Aidan smiled at her, and for Kirsten the rest of the world seemed to vanish; Aidan was the centre of her vision. "I think your books are wonderful, especially your poetry, so insightful and full of meaning," Kirsten said. "Kirsten Fields," he said, his expression slightly puzzled. "Where have I heard that name?" "She did the jacket illustration for 'Beyond Darkness'," Sheila supplied. "Perhaps you've heard of that?" His puzzlement faded as he said, "Yes, of course, you're the artist who did the jacket cover for Georgia 's book; it was excellent." His slightly flirtatious manner brought a flush to Kirsten's cheeks. He had her captivated, but at the same time he had been fascinated by her obvious admiration for his work. For the rest of the night, they were inseparable, and Aidan walked her home. After that first night, they were inseparable. Aidan's wit, charm and warmth enchanted her and her honestly and innocent joy in almost everything proved a refreshing change for him. After dating people who only liked him for his fame and his looks, it was a pleasant change to find someone who appreciated his mind. After two months of dating, they finally decided to make love. It was a romantic evening, perhaps the most romantic of their lives. After a dinner, they had gone back to Aidan's flat to make passionate, sensual love. That night in his bed with Aidan, Kirsten felt she had found the love and passion she longed for; the love and passion Aidan expressed so eloquently in his poetry. He in his turn had been captivated by the beauty of her body and her eager response to his tender love making. By dawn they felt themselves to be deeply in love with each other. * * * * * * * * * * * * * I'm letting you go, You're letting me down, I'm letting you go, Our love's black and blue. How many words does it take, To say I'm through? * * * * * * * * * * * Kirsten smiled sadly as the memories of their early love flooded her mind. Those first few months had been wonderful. They were deeply in love, and their worlds had revolved around each other. She wondered why it hadn't lasted. It had been when his new novel came out that a small gulf began growing between them -- gulf that had steadily widened to the point where Kirsten thought it to be unbridgeable. This as not helped by the fact Aidan spent increasing amounts of time with his beautiful new publicist, Pamela. Another thing that infuriated her was the fact that he refused to allow her to do the jacket illustration for his new book. "Kirsten," he has said, "I know you're work is excellent, but Pamela's found this artist and his work is perfect for the book. Besides, he's starting his career and I want to give him a chance;" when she asked him why she had been rejected. When Kirsten saw the final draft for the jacket she knew is was far too lurid for the subject of the book, and said so. Aidan had begun to say, "But Pamela thinks..." and Kirsten had interrupted angrily, "Pamela this; Pamela that; Pamela thinks this is good; Pamela thinks that is bad. What about what Kirsten thinks or says?" She had been jealous of course, and felt at the time she had good reason to be. Her jealousy had made her irrational, and she had been ill tempered and touchy. Still, he was at fault too, using Pamela to hurt her when they had fights. Both of them had made mistakes, and both were too proud to admit it. It was then that she realized it wouldn't work. They were too temperamentally alike and would never be able to resolve their differences peacefully. A tear rolled down her cheek as she thought about what she was going to do and say that night. It seemed so wrong, but in her heart, she knew it was right. * * * * * * * * * * * * When Kirsten had confronted Aidan with her grievances he had responded angrily, "I will do what I want, and you can't tell me not to do it!" His normally gentle green eyes glittering with resentment as they fixed upon her blue ones. "Yeah, you've made that clear." Kirsten shouted back. "Silly me, I thought that maybe you would love me enough to spend more time with me." "Damn it Kirsten!" Aidan swore. "You know it's not like that. It's important. I need the publicity. You should know that better than anyone." "You don't need it; you just want it. You prefer spending time with Pamela than spending time with me," Kirsten had retorted. "Maybe I do," he said quietly. "At least she understands me and doesn't make selfish demands." "Selfish demands? Spending more time with me is a selfish demand?" Kirsten responded acidly. "We're a couple Aidan, and we're supposed to spend time; or did you suddenly decide you don't love me anymore?" "Perhaps I did," Aidan said quietly. "Maybe I like Pamela better." "Then maybe we should just break this off." Kirsten said quietly. "We should." Aidan said, averting his eyes from her gaze. Kirsten walked up to him and slapped him soundly across his cheek. He could see the tears in her eyes, the pain, but he did nothing to console her. He looked at her, his cheek stinging from the slap. She waited for his reaction, but all she got was silence. She wanted him to say something, do something, even slap her back, but all he did was stand there and gaze at her, accusation and anger in his eyes. She couldn't take it anymore. She burst into tears and ran into their bedroom. She shut the door and buried her head in a pillow as she sobbed. How had it come to this, she wondered, when had they become so far apart? Every night thereafter Aidan slept in the guest bedroom. They barely spoke to each other the whole week. She had left for work in the morning, determined to finish their relationship that night, and in finishing it end their pain. * * * * * * * * * I have to, Don't want to, I've got to set you free. No more words, It's over, Now I can finally breathe. * * * * * * * * * She closed her umbrella outside the apartment building, and steeled herself. She still loved him, still cared for him deeply, but she had to let him go. She took the elevator to their floor and took out the key to open the door. She slipped the key into the lock, hesitated for a moment and then turned it slowly, delaying the moment when she would have to enter. When she pushed the door open, she found herself facing red roses - hundreds of them, it seemed. They were strewn all over the room, bouquets stood on the tables, the couches and the chairs, and in the middle of the room stood Aidan, holding a large teddy bear with the words "Sorry" written on a heart held between the bear's paws. She felt herself weakening, felt the love well up inside her, but she squashed it. She pictured instead their fights, the lonely nights she had spent crying into her pillow. Aidan walked toward her, the uncertain smile on his face fading as he saw the expression on her face. "Aidan," she said, trying hard to keep her voice level - she had to be strong; it was for both of them - "Aidan, I...I'm through." With that, she placed her key on the mantle beside the door and walked out, shutting the door gently behind her, trying to ignore the pain on his handsome face. She hurried out of the building and into the street, getting as far away from Aidan as possible. And only then did she allow herself to cry. * * * * * * I'm letting you go, You're letting me down, I'm letting you go, Our love's black and blue. How many words does it take, To say I'm through? * * * * * * * Songs for the Soul Ch. 06 The song is an English translation of a Japanese song by Crystal Kay. Kumeko-san, I hope the story lived up to your expectations. The lyrics belong to the song-writer and the artist. I take no credit for them. I have also not changed the lyrics, in whole or in part. Hope you all like it. Please vote. Thank you Ray, for the wonderful editing. Zara. "Open up Bobbie," yelled an irritating voice from the other side of the door. Bobbie groaned because she knew whom that voice belonged to and what its owner wanted. Looking longingly at her soft couch and an old, worn romance novel sitting invitingly at the coffee table, she walked over and unlocked the door. She had a second's warning before she was lifted up and practically carried to her bedroom. Clothes were thrust at her and she was shoed into the bathroom. "Ten minutes," Tim said after the door was shut. "Ten minutes and I'll break that door down whether you're dressed or not." Bobbie sighed and looked dubiously at the clothes she held. A pair of tight black jeans and a sheer silk shirt weren't the most comfortable clothes she owned. But they were certainly appropriate for going to the trendiest club in the city, where she knew Tim was taking her. Sighing with frustration, she reluctantly shed the comfortable sweats she was wearing and pulled on the other clothes. After a quick tug to make sure everything was where it should be, she opened the door and stood before Tim for appraisal. She had to stifle a grin when the blonde giant standing before her tilted his head to one side and squinted at her. "That'll have to do," Tim said. "You just need some make up and you're ready to go; and do something with the hair." "Really Tim," Bobbie said while unfastening her comfortable, and incredibly messy, bun. "I thought the untidy look was in." "Not on you," was the brusque reply she got before he went into her kitchen to raid her fridge. "I can't believe you thought you could skip coming to the club tonight," he remarked from the kitchen. "I get promoted, I just get a six figure salary and want to celebrate, and my best friend wants a quiet night in. I had to tell Vivian to go on her own because I needed to come and get you." "Vivian's going to be angry," Bobbie remarked as she quickly brushed out her hair and applied a small amount of lip gloss. She was right too. Tim's current girlfriend, Vivian, didn't like to go anywhere on her own. She also detested Bobbie, and hated the fact that Bobbie had such an important place in Tim's life. But the fact that Vivian shared Tim's bed and had a place in his heart was something Bobbie would always envy. For as long as Bobbie had known Tim, she had loved him, and for as long as Tim had known Bobbie, he had thought of her as his best friend. She looked in the mirror to see her sad face looking back at her. Tim wouldn't like that. She quickly smiled, cringing inwardly at how artificial it looked, but it was the only way she could hide how she felt. * * * * * * I realized that love was painful Because I know you better than anyone else I look at you from up close But why, why are we only just friends? No matter how strong my feelings are I can't convey it to you You don't understand I'm so in love with you * * * * * * After two hours in the club the group had drunk innumerable heady blue cocktails. Bobbie was annoyed; she could hold her drink, and hadn't had as many as the others, but everyone else around her seemed to be on the verge of collapsing into a drunken stupor. Even Vivian was tipsy, and was leaning heavily on Tim who looked extremely unsteady himself. Knowing that she would have to make sure all of them got home safely, Bobbie sighed. There were seven of them; Kim, Sam, Daniel, Vivian, Adam, Tim and Bobbie. She would get a cab for Kim, Sam and Daniel; but she would have to drop Adam, Vivian and Tim off herself. She called a cab and managed to get the drunken group to the door. She had a little help from Kim, who wasn't quite as drunk as the others. As Kim and the others got into the taxi, Kim whispered "Go and tell him," in Bobbie's ear. Bobbie didn't say anything, but she remembered what had transpired earlier that evening. During the course of the evening Bobbie and Kim had met in the ladies room, and Kim , who had known for a long time how Bobbie felt about Tim, and who had noticed the interplay between Tim, Vivian and Bobbie during the evening said, "For God's sake Bobbie, tell that idiot Tim how you feel about him." "I can't," Bobbie said, her despondency making her sound snappy. "Why not?" "Because if I did I'd risk ending the relationship we do have," Bobbie replied. "Why on earth are you being so pessimistic?" Kim said. "Why wouldn't a real relationship between both of you work out? I know you, and I know him, and I know that both of you are right for each other. For an intelligent guy Tim can be so stupid at times when it come to his own best interests." "I won't. I couldn't bear it if he vanished from my life Kim." "And why would he do that? Tim may be stupid but you're a coward. Are you going to let that Gorgon Vivian ride off into the sunset with him? "I've got eyes Kim." Bobbie said miserably, "You tell me, what is the longest relationship Tim has ever had romantically?" Kim sighed. She knew Bobbie had gotten her on that one. The longest relationship Tim had ever had was for six months and that was the current one with Vivian. "But I still think you should tell him. You'd be good for him, but like a lot of guys he needs to be told that." "He already has me in his life - as his friend." "Fine, if you won't tell him, I will," Kim said brusquely. Kim began to leave, but Bobbie stopped her. "Don't you dare," Bobbie hissed, a look of alarm on her face. "You'll ruin our friendship and I'll never speak to you again." Kim could see the real fear in her face, and shrugging said, "Okay, if your content to go on loving from afar, that's up to you, you're the one whose miserable." Then Kim nodding sadly, left Bobbie to get herself another drink. Now, shaking her head at the recollection of that conversation,, Bobbie pushed Kim into the car and shut the door. She bundled the rest of the inebriates into Tim's car, took the keys from him and drove off. She dropped the others off at their respective apartments and by the time she reached Tim's apartment, it was very late and she was very tired. That Tim was snoring on the back seat did nothing to make the situation any better. Since it was Tim who had driven her to the club she didn't have her own car, and her flat was at least an hour's walk away, so she knew that she would have to spend the night at Tim's place. Not that it mattered because she had stayed a number of times before and used his second bedroom. The danger was that if Vivian found out, all hell would probably be let loose. At that stage she was past caring what Vivian felt or thought, and she muttered, "Oh, sod it," as she lugged the half-asleep Tim into his flat and pushed him roughly into his bedroom. "A break up with Vivian would be a good thing." With little help from the near comatose Tim she pulled off his clothes. When he was naked she stood gazing at him for a while and wondering how it would be if...she stopped the thought. After she had made sure that Tim was fast asleep, she chose one of his T-shirts, went to the second bedroom, stripped, and changing into the shirt got into the bed. She couldn't sleep. What Kim had said to her and her own long held feelings for Tim kept buzzing around in her head. Kim had seemed so sure of herself when she said that Bobbie and Tim were right for each other. Bobbie knew that she and Tim got along well. They were complete opposites, but that seemed to work for them. She wondered whether she really loved Tim, or was it merely infatuation. Growing up in foster homes hadn't exactly been a stable childhood, and only having Tim to talk to during her late teens had kept her from doing anything rash. She sometimes wondered if she was merely grateful for that, or whether she really loved him. But a small part of her knew that what she felt was love. If it was infatuation, she would have told him by now. She wouldn't have been scared of losing him. Now, she was terrified of losing him. Shaking her head at all the memories that filled her head, Bobbie wondered whether Kim was right. Should she tell him? * * * * * * * * * * Everyday, everyday my heart aches I've gone through so many, many sleepless nights I'm so in love with you It'd be nice to confess and love you Is it impossible to go back to our smiling faces? Although remaining as friends and not confessing might be better than love Because I'm not able to do it anyway * * * * * * * * * * Bobbie didn't get to sleep until the early hours of the morning and was rudely awakened by Tim calling out, "Bobbie, you there?" His voice sounded weak. Reluctantly she got out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. She started to make coffee and poured some orange juice. She had been in this situation before. She made her way to his bedroom to be confronted by a white faced Tim. With a groan he gulped down the orange juice and then cautiously started to drink the hot, strong coffee. Sitting up in bed, the bedclothes bunched up at his feet, he looked like a small boy again. The problem for Bobbie was that he wasn't a small boy, but a full grown man. "God I feel terrible," he moaned. "Too much to drink does that to you; you should know that better than anyone," she gently chided him Drinking the last of the coffee Tim said contritely, "I have no clue why this works, but it does," referring to the coffee and the juice. "I'm feeling a bit better." Bobbie grinned again and rose and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. "You'll need to drive me home," Bobbie yelled from the kitchen as Tim gingerly made his way to the bathroom. "Sure," he yelled back, regretting it immediately. He felt his head ache worsen as his voice rose. He turned the shower on and stepped into the warm spray. He stood under the shower for a long time, and soon began feeling less like a zombie and more like a human being. When he was done, he dried off and slipped into jeans and a T-shirt. The smell of waffles lured him into the kitchen. "It smells so good," he said as he walked in. Bobbie smiled and retorted, "You're the only person I know who can actually feel hungry after a hangover." "You know me," Tim said and took out two plates. Bobbie served up the waffles and they ate in companionable silence. After they were done, Tim took his keys and about to drive Bobbie to her place he opened the door. He was shocked to see Vivian standing there, her hand poised to knock. A pleased smile spread over Vivian's face, but it fled the instant she spied Bobbie who was standing just behind Tim. "What's she doing here?" Vivian demanded shrilly. "I stayed over. I came in Tim's car and it was too late to walk back," Bobbie explained gently; she hated Vivian, but she didn't want to be the cause a fight between Tim and Vivian. Vivian shot her a dirty look and turned to Tim. "She's stayed here before and I've told you I don't like it; and I don't like it when you go to see her. In fact I just don't like her. Why can't you respect my feelings for once? I begged you to not bring her to the club yesterday, but you did. Don't my wishes mean anything to you?" "Vivian," Tim said placatingly, taking her hand to try and mollify her. She snatched her hand away and snapped, "She's just waiting for a chance to jump into your bed; I bet she probably has. Was it a nice fuck Tim, did you like his fat cock in you Bobbie?" Tim recoiled and stepped back from her. Vivian was shaking, her angry gaze fixed on Bobbie. "She stayed over because she didn't have her car," Tim said quietly. "Come on Viv, what else could she have done?" "Call a taxi," Vivian suggested sarcastically, her venomous gaze on Bobbie. "Listen, Vivian, I didn't jump into bed with him, and nor do I want to. I've slept in the second bedroom before, and that's where I slept last night. You can see if you like. Why can't you get that fact into your head?" Bobbie demanded angrily. She'd had enough of being talked about as if she wasn't even there. "I can't get that fact into my head because while Tim doesn't say anything about it when you do stay , he goes completely ballistic if I so much as leave my underwear lying around when I stay," Vivian screamed at Bobbie. Bobbie stood absolutely still. Did that mean that Tim actually cared for her? She took a tentative look at Tim's face now, and that thought vanished from her head. His face was filled with a myriad of emotions she couldn't even begin to describe. But one thing seemed certain, he didn't want Vivian out of his life. She forced herself to speak. She didn't want to cause Tim any pain. "Nothing happened," Bobbie said. "We're just friends." "Yeah right," Vivian snapped back, "Like you've not been in love with him since forever." Suddenly, Bobbie felt a slap on her cheek, and she looked up in shocked surprise. Vivian had slapped her – had actually slapped her. She wondered what she should do. When Vivian raised her hand again, Bobbie knew that she would go to hell before she let this woman slap her again. But she need not have bothered. Tim got in first, grabbing Vivian's upraised hand. "You apologize, now," he said in a dangerous whisper, his hand holding Vivian's wrist like a vice. "I won't," Vivian spat, struggling in his grasp. "She's in love with you Tim, and she'll do anything to steal you from me. Just look at her face now. She's probably feeling ecstatic that you and I are fighting." "She's not; she's as upset as I am," Tim said levelly. Vivian stopped struggling as she heard the tone of his voice. She knew what was going to happen before he even moved a muscle. He steered her out of his apartment. "I can't believe I thought you were a wonderful woman. You're just a spoilt child who grew into a spoilt woman, and I have no idea why I went out with you. I don't ever want to see you again. Do you understand?" When Vivian didn't say anything, he shook her lightly. She nodded, tears streaming down her face. "Good," Tim said. He slammed the door shut in her face. Wrung out, he flopped down on his couch and brooded. Bobbie didn't say anything; she simply changed into last nights clothes and pottered around the apartment. "She wasn't right, was she, about you being in love with me?" Tim asked after a while. Bobbie gulped when she realised what he meant. "Of course not," she lied, turning her back to him. "You know that." "Yeah, I do," Tim said, looking relieved. "Gosh, I'd hate it if you did. It would just complicate things." "I agree," Bobbie said. This time, she was telling the truth. "I wouldn't know what to do if you told me you loved me," Tim said, shaking his head. He was telling the truth. A relationship with Bobbie had crossed his mind plenty of times, but like Bobbie, he refused to even consider it. He valued their friendship too much. "I won't tell you, so don't worry," Bobby said, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to contain tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes. "You're great Bobbie, and I'd be lucky to have you, but you're my friend," Tim went on, not quite sure who he was convincing, himself of her. He didn't have to convince her of anything, so he supposed it was himself he was referring to. He was right about Bobbie being great. She was the most important thing in his life. When he had first seen the thin, unkempt girl around campus, he hadn't given much attention to her. But they'd become friends, and he began to try and protect her from the life she led. Her foster parents didn't harm her physically, but she was treated like she was a mistake, and she couldn't bear the emotional deprivation that she endured. Tim eased her pain, and she in turn kept him rooted to the ground. His good looks and amazing skills at football could have gone to his head, but she stopped him from strutting around like a proud peacock, and he was grateful for that. Sometimes he wondered if that was why he thought he loved her. Was he merely grateful? "That must be it," he thought to himself. "I'm just grateful. Besides, she wouldn't agree to try a relationship with me in a million years. She's too good for me." Bobbie wondered what Tim was thinking, but she didn't ask. She got her things ready and waited for him. "Come on, we'd better get going," Tim said after a while and went downstairs, leaving Bobbie to lock up the apartment. In the car park Bobbie handed him the keys and got into his car. he drive to her apartment was filled with unnatural silence. The fight with Vivian had caused a tangible rift between them. But both of them knew that it wouldn't last for long. Tim would find someone else, and Bobbie would continue to watch and both of them would think the other was too good for them. She stepped out of the car once they reached her flat and waved to Tim before he drove off. She waited on the kerb as briefly Tim waved back. Bobbie looked up at the clear blue sky, and wondered why she put herself through it all, but she already knew the answer to that. She loved him. * * * * * * * * * Truly, truly I've always loved you I always, always want to continue loving you I want to send these feelings to you I whisper them to the blue sky I'm so in love with you.