note: I FINALLY FINISHED WRITING THIS BOOK! And I am so stoked to share the rest of the story with you lovelies. There are 10 parts to this story + an epilogue so we've got quite a bit to go. We've definitely hit the intense part of the story now.
This chapter was exciting to write. Very emotional. Please do comment your thoughts/feedback! And leave a vote if you enjoyed the chapter. Happy reading xx
══ ● ══
London wished she could do something to make Andrew any less miserable but since Talia, Simon and Aurora — his precious little girl — had moved away to Ipswich a few days ago, Andrew was in a mood, a mood that lifted momentarily but was quick to cloud back again at anything that reminded him of Aurora, which was almost everything.
Friday evenings and Saturdays were the days Andrew reserved for his daughter and sitting with him on a Friday night in his flat felt strange. She should have been happy that she got to spend more time with Andrew but with Aurora, a whole town away, Andrew was in a sour mood. And Aurora being away also meant that the three of them wouldn't hang out on Sunday. London hadn't really stopped to think about it before but she was always giddy on Sunday mornings because that meant she got to see her boyfriend, and spend quality time with his daughter. London had grown attached to the little girl. She had always been a kid kind of person but she truly loved Aurora, and her moving away not only put Andrew in a sour mood but also London, albeit less sour.
"Tell me," London prodded, poking a finger against his firm shoulder. "What are you thinking about?"
"Huh?"
"Well, you and I both know you're not really watching the movie. If you were you would have laughed a couple of times at least. This is a comedy movie and you look like you're about to go to someone's funeral."
That got his attention.
"I might as well be going to a funeral. I witnessed the death of my relationship with my daughter," he said with a frown on his lips, his tone light in an attempt to joke but she didn't think it was funny that he was trying to make light of the situation.
"I thought I was the dramatic one," she said instead, smiling as she placed a gentle hand on his chest.
"Nope," he shook his head. "That's me. I'll never give up the spotlight."
London laughed, leaning in and brushing her lips gingerly against him. He reached forward, his mouth sliding over hers as his arm tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against his side. She liked his playful side. It was fun. But they were ignoring a serious topic here, so London, being the mature adult she was, pulled back for air, trying to even out her breathing. When he leaned in for more, his eyes hooded, she reluctantly pushed against his chest.
"Something wrong?" he asked, hooded gaze clearing away slightly as his eyebrows pinched in concern.
"Yes," she said, taking a deep breath. "We need to talk. About Aurora."
He groaned, rolling his head away and back onto the couch. Well, she officially ruined the mood, but the conservation had to happen.
"Tell me," she said softly, prompting him with an encouraging smile. "What's on your mind?"
Andrew looked down, his fingers playing with his wedding band ring. No matter how used to it she got, the fact that he still couldn't bring himself to remove it made her stomach somersault, and not in the good way. But this wasn't about her and her feelings now. This was about Andrew, who had been highly bothered and irritable since he was separated from his daughter. If London brought up how she was feeling about seeing the ring on his finger, he'd give her his whole attention and while she loved that about him, how he always hyped her, supported her and paid so much attention to her, this was about him. She wanted to be there for him.
"Right now?" he sighed. His fingers stopped fidgeting. "I'm thinking about how she and I would have made dinner by now, the kitchen a complete chaos, and we'd be watching a movie, making funny comments. You know her, she makes the comments. It makes the movies all the more enjoyable."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips before a frown took its place. London's heart broke.
"I guess those Friday nights are behind me now," he resigned and the deflated tone made her frown. Where was the optimistic Andrew Cai that she knew?
"You could still go see her this weekend?" London proposed.
"Huh," he scoffed. "Like Talia suggested. I'm not going to give in to that bitch. And Ipswich is three to four hours away. I would get to spend a maximum of a day with Aurora. The travel back and forth will—"
"It will be worth it," she interjected.
He looked at her, his eyes lifting from his ring for the first time since the start of this conversation. His eyebrows were raised in an incredulous fashion. "You're on Talia's side."
"Andrew." She shook her head at him. How could he even think that?
He threw his hands into the air, moving his gaze away from her. "Then why would you suggest that?"
London paused. The movie played in the background and the tense silence stretched between them. She didn't know how to reply to what he'd just said so she picked herself off the couch and headed to his kitchen. She pulled out two wine glasses and a bottle of cheap red. She headed back into his living room. She placed the bottle down on one of the coasters she'd gotten him when she had gone shopping.
"Want to do the honours?" she asked, her voice terse.
He looked from her to the bottle and with a heavy sigh, he opened the bottle and filled both their glasses almost halfway. Once they were settled, both sipping quietly at their drinks, London spoke up.
"Ipswich is far. I know that," she started gently. "It's a three hours drive from Porte Orlands to there. Three and a half or four hours if you factor in traffic. Do you think Talia will change her mind because you refused to come to see your daughter? When has she ever done something that is convenient for you?"
"So you agree with me that she moved away because she knew that would increase the wedge between me and my daughter?"
London stared at him. "Really? That's what you got from what I said?"
Andrew looked away from her, gulped down the rest of his wine and leaned forward to refill his glass. This conversation was making him snappy and London was willing to understand where he was coming from but his tone was making her annoyed. She was only trying to help but he'd already gone into full defensive mode.
"Andrew," she said, all serious as she took his glass away from him and placed it on a coaster. "Why do you not want to go Ipswich? And don't try to give me some bullshit answer."
"Well," he started, looking at her. He looked guilty, like he felt stupid for admitting it. "Ever since I signed those papers I knew we were having joint custody and that Talia would get the physical custody. She told me we would work things out. But everything has only managed to become more messy and ugly. Talia and I have grown apart and we have changed, yes, but the woman I know now is not the woman I knew before and I just don't know what she's capable of doing anymore. It seems like she's doing everything in her willpower to keep me away from my daughter. Even moving away!"
"I know that's how it feels but she did tell me that she wants out of this town, that she wants a fresh start," London tried to reason — tried to see this story from both sides.
"Yeah, with Simon fucking Allerton and my daughter. She moved miles away, London. She took my daughter away from me," Andrew argued, his voice rising.
"No one can take Aurora from you," London said, touching his arm gently.
He looked at her incredulously, shaking his head like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You keep saying stuff like you side with my ex."
"I don't—"
"And I have to travel those three hours to spend just a day out of a whole fucking week with my daughter?" Andrew burst. His eyes looked glassy, his usually easy-going-soft smile nowhere to be seen. "I used to see my daughter every single day. It was part of my routine, I guess. And then I had to adjust to seeing her weekends plus sometimes when I pick her up from school and spend evenings with them. Now, they've moved, taking my daughter away, leaving behind a house that I don't know I can get back to because even though I still own it, Allerton has just stained it with his fucking presence. Maybe I should put it on the market for sale. Maybe I should have sold it to Allerton when he first asked—"
He broke off, fisting his hands before leaning his elbows down on his thighs, bringing his head down and combing through his hair with his fingers frustratingly. London grabbed his hand, the black strands of his head brushing against her fingers in the process. She pulled him towards her. Cupping his face in her hands, she looked him straight in the eye.
"Andrew, breathe," she instructed, her voice calm, "Rant, talk. Do whatever you want. Get it off your chest."
He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "It was hard to adjust when my routine was broken, when I got divorced. But I did it. I adjusted. I built another routine. But it took some time and it took effort. And those two months were hard. I was just getting used to this. I was happy. And now, I'm forced to change my routine again? I need routine, London, I need my days to follow a schedule. Not exactly a set one but one that doesn't vary so much. I just need things to slow down."
London's thumb brushed against his stubble. "You are strong, Andrew. You love your daughter more than anything in this world. I'm a first-hand witness to that love. I see the way you treat her and parent her. I see how you are when you're with her. You're the best version of yourself when you're with her."
"And with you, too," he added, his lips lifting up to allow a small, brief smile.
She laughed. "I wasn't fishing for a compliment."
"I didn't say you were. I was just speaking facts," he replied smoothly and London allowed herself to smile. There it was, the humour to disguise his current predicament.
He leaned forward, brushing a kiss against her lips, but she stopped him there, not letting him go further. This conversation was not over.
"Go to Ipswich," she advised, speaking against his lips. He pulled back slightly, obvious disappointment that they hadn't yet moved on from the subject. "I know you're dying to see Aurora. Phone calls don't exactly cut it and neither do letters. You want to go see her so go see her, Andrew."
He sighed and she felt his hot breath tickle her face. He pulled away, his eyes opening to look at her. The frown on his lips was back and London wanted to do something that could turn that frown upside down for longer than ten minutes. The only way was through Aurora.
"I don't understand why I'm the only one that seems to be putting more effort into this," he admitted, flopping back down on the couch. His hand held hers, and she squeezed back tightly, like he always did with her.
"I had to have set conditions to spend the weekend with my daughter. Talia never made it easy for me to have time with Aurora. And now she decides to move away and take Aurora, like the decision is in her hands? Between me and Talia I seem to be the only one working hard to make my relationship with my daughter survive. Talia doesn't even have to try. Why is it hard for me and why was it made so easy for her?"
"Who said it was easy for her?" When he looked at her, London quickly offered him a gentle smile and gave his hand another squeeze. "Life is not always fair, Andrew Cai."
"Unfortunately," he murmured, looking down at their entwined hands. He raised their hands and faced the back of her hand to his face. His lips pressed against the back of her hand. His lips were warm and the action, small yet thoughtful, made her heart feel fuzzy.
"Go, baby," she urged.
His eyes met hers. A smirk touched his lips, mirth glinting in his eyes and she knew instantly that he was going to say something light to cover the sadness and pain that filled his heart.
"Right now? I think we both know that leaving tomorrow morning is best. Right now I have other plans in mind," he whispered, his fingers circling her knee.
She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Oh shut up," she said throwing her arms around him and bringing his lips down to hers. "Give me something to remember you by this weekend."
Her demand was matched with an equally cheeky smile as he stood up and grabbed her with no forewarning. His right arm was under her knees while his other arm held her shoulders. Her own arms secured around his neck as he carried her to his bedroom, his lips working magic against hers — pushing, pulling.
Her feet touched the edge of the bed and her back slowly lowered onto the soft plush sheets as he came to hover above her. Her skin tingled as his index finger lazily slid up her arm, his head lowering. She exhaled as his lips brushed against hers. He slid his lips over hers, soft and warm. His tongue traced the seam of her lips and she hungrily opened up for him, letting him explore her mouth like he hadn't done this a million times before already.
Her hands rested on his taut abdomen, craving skin contact. She had no control of her hands. They slipped under his sweater, removing it with ease as he lifted his head. He pulled it over his head, his arms coming back down to rest on either side of her face after. Her hands slipped back under his shirt, brushing against his stomach, teasing by the waistband of his jeans.
He kissed her once.
Twice.
Thrice.
She lost count after that.
The soft strokes were driving her insane but she was in no hurry. She let the passion and pleasure sizzle for as long as she could. She let him take his time kissing her lips, taking each piece of clothing off in excruciating slow motions. His lips kissed every inch of her skin like he was memorising the shape of her body with his lips. She returned the favour, and had lifted her eyes momentarily to witness the pure unfiltered pleasure on his face.
That night unravelled in slow-burning passionate heat. It was like Andrew was giving London something to remember him by, not just this weekend but for the future too. It almost felt like she was saying goodbye.
It was silly, she knew that, which was why she didn't bother to entertain the thought.
But when she awoke the next morning, the other side cold and empty, a clear indication that Andrew was long gone to Ipswich by now, she had to hold in her irrational need to cry.
He'll come back, she told herself. You promised you would never leave him. He'll be back. You're worrying about nothing. He'll be back.