Who Knew 21

Author's Note:

This one is for the Karaoke Challenge. The principle is that the story (broadly) matches the song, and shares the same title. For that reason, if you don't know the song you might want to skip this one. And if you do know the song... you'll know whether or not you want to skip this one.

This is (blessedly) short. While we all read at different speeds, it might take you about 3 minutes and 30 seconds... if you like to listen to music while you read.

Copyright © 2023. This is a copyrighted work. Unauthorised use is prohibited. All rights reserved by the author.

Who Knew?

He pressed my hand to his chest, a gentle smile on his lips and a playful gleam in his eye.

"Feel that?" Stefan asked.

"Uh huh." The touch of him, his expression, stole my ability to form actual words. I added a nod, but it was jerky.

"What do you feel?"

My throat was dry; I swallowed. Beneath my fingers his skin was warm and his pulse beat. "Your heart."

He took a small step closer, his other hand coming up to cup my cheek. "Now it's your heart too. I'm yours..." he leant in and brushed his lips across mine, "...forever. And ever."

Our kiss deepened, his tongue pushing in as I opened to him, pressing myself against him. I squeezed my eyes shut as he kissed me, holding back the tears that would otherwise have come.

~

I pull off the road and park up, gravel pattering against the underside of my car. It seems pointless to take my coat and besides, it's nice to feel the crisp, cool air. Clean. Not like London.

The gravel crunches beneath my feet as I step out, the sound so much clearer than I'd expected. Was that the air too, or was I just feeling more... alive?

~

"You're looking positively

alive

, Natalie," Chloe said. Her words seemed kind, but her tone was not. Was there perhaps a hint of jealousy?

"She's in love." Rachel smiled at me.

I couldn't help but return her smile. It was easy to smile these days. "Isn't a girl allowed to be in love?"

Chloe glanced over to where Stefan and Gerry were getting drinks. "He doesn't seem the type."

I frowned. "You mean you and Gerry? Hon, it's just a first date. I thought you'd like him, but if you don't..."

She looked back at me. "I wasn't talking about Gerry."

My eyes narrowed as I looked at her, my smile fading as rapidly as it came, my jaw clenching. I was distantly aware of Rachel looking away, embarrassed at the sudden awkwardness. I didn't care. "You have something to say, Chloe?" I made no effort to hide the challenge in my tone. You think you know your friends...

Chloe didn't hold my gaze. Couldn't. She glanced away. "Nothing."

Damn right it was nothing. She'd come this close to being punched out. I wondered if she knew.

The men returned to the table, balancing drinks carefully on a tray.

"Your wine, baby." Stefan smiled at me as he proffered the glass. It was an effort to relax my face, to return his smile in kind.

He didn't say anything, but I could tell he'd noticed by the slight tightening around his eyes. His fingers brushed mine gently, reassuringly, as if to say, 'Don't worry. Whatever it is, I've got your back.'

Such a simple thing: that calm, dependable, unruffled support.

He edged onto the seat next to me and slid his hand along my thigh, bare below the hem of my summer dress, his fingers squeezing with just the slightest pressure before resting gently above my knee.

'He doesn't seem the type'? Fuck Chloe. She had no idea.

~

I turn and walk down the road, feeling the cold, but have no urge to do anything about it. Oblivious even to the view just the other side of that very low stone wall, the valley dropping steeply away. Indifferent to beauty, indifferent to the stark isolation, the empty road and the mountain air.

What did it matter anymore?

~

"I don't have to go."

"No! You totally should! You've been looking forward to it for ages.

We've

been looking forward to it for ages. I'm so sorry, Stefan."

"Sweetheart, it really doesn't matter! I'm sorry for

you

, having to miss out!" He smiled at me and reached for my hands. "We'll be back before you know it. It's just a long weekend on the back of the bike, babe - you're probably better off. And we've got that week of SCUBA coming up in October."

"Yes... I suppose," I sighed with frustration. "But I wanted to go! Stupid bloody work crisis. I'm so sorry, darling."

"Do what you need to do. When I get back we'll go visit that Gordon Ramsay restaurant again."

I smiled. "That would be nice."

He kissed me. That last kiss.

~

I'm not much good at judging distances. How far have I walked? A mile? Two? Had I gone past it? But Gerry had been adamant it would be obvious... and then it was. Tire marks still on the road, seeming so fresh even though they were almost a week old. Had it been a week already? The flights. The police. Bringing him home, the funeral. And there... a ribbon flapping in the wind, the distinctive red-and-white stripes with

Police Nationale

in stark black. I draw closer, seeing the pathetically ineffective bollards they'd left. But then, what were the odds someone would go off the road here?

~

I recognised his number, of course. That it was him calling me, and not Stefan...

"What's happened?"

"Natalie? It's Gerry."

"Yes, I know. What's happened?" I glanced at the time: 7:14pm. I could be at Heathrow by... 8:30pm if I got an Uber. Could I get a flight? Maybe the Eurostar would be better.

"There's been an accident."

"Is Stefan okay?"

"We were riding the Combe Laval from Valence..."

"Is he okay?"

"...Stefan was leading. There was an SUV with a family..."

I pressed the phone so tight to my ear I could feel it digging in.

"...they swerved. The driver said the kids distracted him..."

"Is Stefan okay?" My voice sounded calm. Why was my voice calm?

"Natalie, he... he tried to avoid hitting the car. He clipped it and went into the barrier. The bike just stopped. He went straight over the handlebars. Straight... straight over the wall. I'm so sorry, Natalie. I'm so sorry."

~

I stand for a long time, just staring at the wall. It's not even that badly damaged. A crack, a chip. Some scrapes. It's so low. Hardly up to my waist. So inadequate.

It's easy to look over, to see the drop below. Fifty meters, a hundred; I can't be sure. It doesn't matter; far enough.

Three short years. That was all we'd been allowed.

My darling, I miss you.

I'd dreamt of him every night this past week. Smiling. Kissing me. Holding me.

My darling, I miss you.

I step up onto the wall. It's so low; it's so easy.

My darling, I miss you.

I step off. So easy, too. I didn't think it would be so easy.

Who knew?