Daniel Swan looked out across the bay from the bench he sat on. It was a cool early autumn evening, just before eight. He looked at the bunch of white roses in his hand, lifted them and smelt them. She was not coming, he knew. Rachel would stay away. He placed the roses on the bench.
"See you next month my darling." It was his ritual, every month, at eight in the evening on the fourteenth he would place twelve white roses on the bench. Two and a half years ago, on valentine's day her hands accepted them, her finger accepted his ring. She had breezed into his life through a coffee shop door that hit his full cup of coffee as she lost control of the door, and he ended up wearing a latte. She had raven hair, and blue eyes that slammed into his heart with no mercy. By the time they had found some stability in the chaos, her furiously wiping at his shirt, he was in love. He was twenty one, and regarded one of the most eligible bachelors, with his light brown hair and bright green eyes, and of course his hundred million dollar trust fund.
Daniel was a shrewd business man at that age, his father had given up when Daniel was ten, and just allowed his son to be in his office. Daniel learned a lot there, but he did not learn about the devastating effect of true love. That came to him just under two years ago. He had been inseparable from Rachel almost from the start, and he knew she was the one. It was as if she knew him intimately, knowing when to touch, when to smile. Daniel had never felt as complete. It had been at a party, where she was in a bathroom, practicing her lines. She was trying to get into acting, so she used a voice recorder to record herself as she looked in the mirror. Daniel loved that she grabbed every moment she could to work at her passion. That evening her voice recorder was forgotten on the shelf, and it caught an ominous conversation. The moment she heard it she sent it to the authorities. She told Daniel, and he held her as she shook in fear. It is not every day your record a murder confession by a powerful man to an associate, both men stood to gain hundreds of millions.
They had realised she knew, but not that the information was already in the hands of the FBI. Two days later, as Daniel had sent her on a private jet to Milan as a treat, to the fashion week, the plane crashed. The wreckage was found in the Atlantic, the recorders telling a tale of a mid-air explosion. The men were arrested, and charged with five murders. One admission on the voice recorder, and the other four were passengers and crew on the plane. Rachel had her best friend Leona with her, a vivacious blonde woman. Daniel loved her energy, and she brough laughter everywhere she went. Now it was a long time ago, and Daniel looked out across the Atlantic. Somewhere there his Rachel's spirit was living.
Daniel looked at the flowers, then walked to the Maserati. He drove home, a thirtieth floor penthouse with five bedrooms and a private pool. He smiled softly. Catherine was there, probably in a t-shirt and panties, being eighteen to the full. She was a good girl, choosing to skip the wild part of being a teenager, yet still making sure Daniel would be grey in a year or two. She was the only one he loved like Rachel. He opened the door and Cath squealed as she barreled into him. She knew where he was, knew the deep pain he carried. She held him close, then kissed his cheek softly, before licking his face from chin to temple.
"Gross, Cath. What if a bird shat on my face?" Daniel laughed at her face, then kissed her head. He held her for a while and she let him. Then she felt her shoulder get wet as he cried. He was her uncle, and her guardian. Her foster mother was his sister, who was almost thirteen years older than Daniel, and Cath was fostered when she was six. The bond between her and Danny was instantaneous. Danny was as amazing a guardian as she could have dreamt, except for the evenings of the fourteenth every month.
"Danny, I made you hot chocolate, and we have popcorn, watch a movie with me please?"
"You just want to be touched."
"So?" Cath cocked an eyebrow. Her love language was touch, and Danny touched her perfectly when she lay on his lap and he gently rubbed her back, sometimes scratching it gently. She knew he could see her butt in her panties, and that he could see the curve of her B-cups as she bared her back for him, but he is the only person she trusted.
"Okay, set it up, I want to quickly shower." She got the treat almost three times a week, and he shook his head at her excitement. She never took it for granted, she never took anything for granted, he had realized. Not even his love for her. Cath was blonde, with mesmerizing blue eyes, five six and a slight curve to her hips. She was a swimmer, and put in three hours a day, the best in her school.
Daniel showered and dressed in pajama pants and a t-shirt. He was barefoot, as was she. It was the time they shared their silence, as they mourned the death of her parents, his family. Daniel had no idea how he managed the death of three people he loved, but he knew Cath was a big part of him coping. After an evening like they planned now his pants would often be wet as she also cried with her face on his thigh. They never judged each other's grief, their arms were open to each other's grief. The tabloids and social pages are forever hinting at Daniel needing to move on, but he did not care. Neither did Cath. They watched a spaghetti western tonight, laughing at the poor voice-overs. Daniel's hand kept moving on her naked back, her t-shirt pulled up. Sometimes he used the flat of his hand, and sometimes his fingertips. He had started with it the week after she arrived when she was six. It was purely by accident, he was putting lotion on her back at his sister's pool, when she asked him to not stop. It was their thing, the family knew. Cath would let others do it when Danny was not around, but he was her preferred back rubber.
"Do you have a swim meet this weekend?" He asked.
"Yes, the last one. Can you come?"
"Yes." She always asked, even though he can count on one hand the meets he had missed since she arrived. Cath knew she had him wrapped around her little finger, and would use it for fun, but he never felt manipulated.
"Thanks Danny. I always swim better when you are there."
"And I love watching you swim better." He kissed his fingers and touched her lips, and she kissed his fingers too. He carried on rubbing her back, the movie long over. Cath chose a music channel, classical. They both loved the soothing sounds. She pulled her shirt down and flipped on her back, and looked up at him. This time she kissed her fingers and touched his lips, and kissed her fingers.
"I love you Danny." She said with her devastating smile.
"I love you more Cath, I am older."
"Pffft. Not buying it." She fetched his hand from the back rest of the couch and interlaced her fingers with his on her stomach. They would sit like this, chatting about life, often about what the tabloids were up to. Neither cared much, except for the entertainment, because more often than not they knew the real story. They went to a limited amount of events, charity balls and birthdays mostly.
"Daniel?" He frowned. She never used his full name if it was not serious.
"Yes?"
"Can I come with next month, please?"
"Sure, I just sit on a bench and feel sad."
"So, I can also do that."
"Okay Cath, yes."
"And tell me about her then."
"I will, bring the Kleenex."
"I will." She yawned and they got up, turning everything off. Daniel went to the kitchen, and broke off a block of dark chocolate from a slab in the fridge, and walked to Cath's room. She was getting in bed, he waited for her to settle, then gave it to her. It was just one their rituals to make each other know they mattered. She knew she could have some for herself, but Cath loved that he bought her a small piece every night. In the morning she gave him coffee in bed, and they would drink together, talking about the day coming up. Now he watched as she savored the taste. It had started six months ago when she was pining for chocolate as he tucked her in, and he fetched her a block because she was lazy. The next evening she pouted, so he did it again. Now it is their thing. He kissed the top of her head, then checked that her phone was on charge, as well as her laptop. I was nothing new for him to get a frantic call from her that her devices have died at school. Maureen, his PA was highly amused as he would put serious opportunities aside to rush around for Cath.
"Night my sweet." He said as he kissed her head again. At eighteen she was way too old to be tucked in, but she asked him to do it once, and he complied. She just never stopped him after that. He hated when she slept over with friends, so she stopped. All her sleepovers happened at their house now, and her friends liked it. They also liked Daniel a lot. Daniel walked to his bedroom. He checked his emails, replied with short instructions to two of them. Some he forwarded to Maureen, but she knew if she dared open one this time of the night he would be irritable with her.
"You have work hours. If I need anything outside work it is my fault, I planned poorly." She nodded with a smile, and he shook his head. Maureen loved her boss, he was as old as her oldest son, and she mothered him sometimes, seeing his gentle smile after he scowls at her. Daniel closed his laptop and turned his light off. It is a fifty fifty that he would wake with Cath behind his back. On bad days he sought her bed too. There is nothing remotely sexual, it was just intimate, and Cath knew Daniel felt everything deeply. She did not come to his bed, but she woke him with his coffee.
"Can you drop me, please?"
