Before Dawn: A Free Falling Novella Read online

  BEFORE DAWN

  A PREQUEL NOVELLA TO

  FREE FALLING

  Ana Simons

  Copyright © 2018 by Ana Simons

  Edited by Kate Smith

  Proofread by Charity Chimni Author Services

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  www.anasimons.com

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  Chapter One ~ Olivia

  Chapter Two ~ Brian

  Chapter Three ~ Olivia

  Chapter Four ~ Brian

  Chapter Five ~ Olivia

  Chapter Six ~ Brian

  Chapter Seven ~ Olivia

  Chapter Eight ~ Brian

  Chapter Nine ~ Olivia

  Chapter Ten ~ Brian

  Chapter Eleven ~ Olivia

  Chapter Twelve ~ Brian

  Chapter Thirteen ~ Olivia

  Chapter Fourteen ~ Brian

  Before you go…

  ⁂

  Together with their families,

  Linda & James

  invite you to join them in the celebration of their wedding

  ~

  Saturday, 29th August 2015, at 1 pm

  Holy Trinity Church, Sloane Square, London

  followed by reception and dancing

  Chapter One ~ Olivia

  Barcelona

  Friday, 24 July

  Tracing a finger along the cream cotton paper and the elegant silk ribbon on Jimmy’s wedding invitation, I can’t help but feel turned inside out all over again. Everyone I know is either celebrating their engagement, getting hitched or popping out babies.

  That or spectacularly wrecking their marriages.

  Yet here I am. Home alone on a hot Friday night, with nowhere to go, indulging myself in red wine and self-pity.

  I close my eyes and drag in a long breath, holding it for a moment, repeating it to myself like a mantra: cut it all off, Olivia. It’s time to move on. But, dammit, like everything else in life, it’s always much easier said than done. The moment I saw them is still so vividly framed in my memory, sometimes it feels like it only happened yesterday.

  His tall frame pinning her up against the wall, towering over her.

  My initial incredulity.

  Her panted gasps.

  My utter shock.

  His disgruntled growls.

  The stabbing pain in my chest and the sound of the hospital tablet slipping from my hand and falling on the floor. My eyes fixed on the screen cracked into little pieces in the middle of the meds room—because they refused to look up at it again and acknowledge the scene was real: the man who’d just asked me to marry him lost in the arms of another woman, the new supervisor of the Nurse Internship Program.

  Something inside me broke that day. I wanted to cry, to scream at the hurt, at the disappointment and anger, but I didn’t. I just stood there. Still. Frozen. There was nothing around me except a blur and everything went on in slow motion. Him dismissing her so coldly and running to me. His apparent regret. His repeated apologies.

  “I... I don’t know what to say... I’m so sorry,” I remember vaguely him breathing out against my skin, rocking me in his arms almost desperately, his words a distant echo rumbling in my head.

  “I’ve been such a fool, that didn’t mean anything. Please, forgive me,” he asked me later that night, crying like a young boy. “Ask anything you want. What can I do to make it up to you?”

  As if there was something he could say or do to lessen the blow.

  “Enough!” Gathering strength from somewhere deep within me, I pulled myself together and pointed to the door. “It’s not like this is the first time you’ve cheated on me, is it? But guess what? You won’t do that to me again. Ever. Get the hell out!”

  Swirling my second glass of wine against the dim light of the side lamp, I try to shove it all away from my mind, the hurt and disappointment, this deep sense of hollowness in my chest and–

  “Holy fuck, I’m so sorry, Hun. You got my text, didn’t you?” Juggling the laptop case, a couple of bags and a raging fury, Julie, my occasional roommate, closes the front door with her bum and rushes to the kitchen.

  “No problem. I wasn’t in the mood anyway...” For our Zumba class, scheduled for a couple of hours before, hadn’t she been called to a last-minute meeting. “Need help?”

  “Dammit!” Returning to hang her coat, she almost stumbles on the box placed near the entrance door, next to the hanger. “What’s this? Your ex-box?”

  “Hmm-hmm.” Taking a long sip, I feel the restless inside seep even deeper into my chest.

  “Finally! So proud of you, darling! Now, when are we going to burn this shit?” she asks dryly before heading back to the kitchen.

  It has taken me a while but today I finally managed to go through the drawers and gather all the things he’d left here. Clothing, some CDs and books, basically. I look at it again and almost feel nauseous; six years of my life stuffed and sealed in a not even large carton, ready to be delivered to his desk.

  “A bonfire might be a bit too extreme, don’t you agree?”

  “You think?” she asks laconically, though what she really means is something like Why isn’t the sodding box in ashes already?

  “How did the surgery go?” A laparoscopic in-utero operation performed this morning to a baby’s heart.

  Surgery in the womb: a miracle of science and Julie’s absolute passion. Dr Vega, an internationally renowned foetal medicine consultant visiting the hospital, took part in the team. She called this afternoon completely ecstatic, near hysterical to be more accurate, because she got to meet him.

  Granted, the process of getting back on your feet again is an all-absorbing beast. But I’ve been lucky enough to have Julie by my side since Filipe and I went our separate ways almost five months ago. She not only makes this time a tad more bearable by making me dance my butt off every day, she also does her best to steer me away from shitty decisions. Like, call him when I bolt awake in the middle of the night. Drown my misery into Vodka shots the few times she managed to drag me out for a girls’ night. Slash his tires or trash his fancy office, now that he’s been appointed head physician of the OB/GYN department and behaves like a conceited asshole.

  “Brilliant, just brilliant! One of the best days of my life... at least until we had our department meeting. Lucky you, it’s your day off.” The pantry door slams hard.

  “What now?”

  “That jerk will drive us all insane, I’m telling you! As if breathing on my neck the whole fucking day wasn’t bad enough, now Dr Cheating-Ass-Liar also thinks he owns the goddamned place and is entitled to make everyone’s life miserable. He suspended María today, how’s that even possible? For crying out loud, that woman taught him everything he knows! Un-fucking-believable! What a creep, a complete psychopath!” She slams the fridge door even harder, the clink of bottles hitting each other mingling with a long string of cuss words.

  Just another day at the office, I guess, but I try not to let it affect me. I’m a nervous mess as it is today, so I just keep swirling the wine, watching it climb up the side of the g
lass, shutting my mind to anything else.

  “Hey, what do you think of this bargain I found in that tiny vintage store?” She pops into the living room with a greenish dress placed in front of her body. “It’s for tonight.”

  It actually goes very well with her red hair and fair complexion. “Lovely.” I force a smile and hide my face behind a long swig of wine. Then I shift my gaze to the news broadcast on the telly. I can sense her inquisitive eyes studying me, though.

  “Sunshine? What happened? You’ve been crying?”

  I try to disguise the lump formed in my throat. “Nothing, I’m fine.” Another sip. “What are you doing standing there like a statue? Pablo should be arriving any moment. You’d better hurry up.”

  If you ask her what brought her to Barcelona some two years ago, she’ll give you a very professional response: she left England because she was looking for a challenging position in one of the most modern, state-of-the-art hospitals in Europe. The truth is that she left it all for him. Against all odds, what was supposed to be a summer fling in Ibiza flourished into something quite meaningful.

  “Look at me.” Which I do. She shoots me a hard glance. “What do you mean I’d better hurry up? You’re coming too! You promised.”

  I tuck my legs beneath me and lean against the couch’s backrest making myself comfortable for another night in front of the TV. “Sorry, I don’t feel like going anywhere tonight.”

  “What’s this all about? Has he been calling you again? Asking you to take his sorry ass back?”

  I shake my head.

  Her eyes fall to the card on my lap. “What’s that? I bet some stupid love note? What rubbish did he write on it this time?” Before I have the chance to explain what it is, Julie has already taken hold of it. “Your cousin’s wedding invitation?”

  I nod, sinking further down on the sofa. “Found it today in one of the drawers… And now I’m feeling awfully miserable. Not sure if because the last thing I need is to meet everyone and explain why I’m there all alone or... because I’m a bit... envious of them? Shit! What kind of person does that make me?”

  Julie sits by my side and holds both my hands. “So the green-eyed monster came out, so what? Livvy, dear, it’s just a wedding. A bunch of people betting how long it’ll last. Don’t let it bring you down.”

  “I know, but I can’t help thinking that… maybe if I had…”

  “Sweetie, we have already gone through that. You did everything you could to make it work, but that son of a bitch still pulled out your heart and stomped on it. He’s a moron. And you’re a rock star. His loss.” Her hands tighten around mine. “I know it sucks awfully, I know it does—I’ve had my fair share of that shit—but it won’t suck forever. There’ll be one morning you wake up and the sun will look a little bit brighter, you’ll see. The best is yet to come, Livvy. Keep that in mind.” The calm, gentle expression on her face suddenly changes and Julie holds up a reproachful finger wag. “And now, you’re getting your butt off this couch and out of those ugly-ass pyjamas. It’s Friday night, and we’re going out to dance. End of conversation.” She bolts up and practically drags me to my bedroom.

  “You have to put on something sexy.” She goes through my closet, picking out a few items and piling them on the bed. “We need to impress Dr Green.”

  “Excuse me, we need what?” My heart has just fallen into the pit of my stomach. “Who?”

  “The new guy from the Molecular Oncology Program. The poor bloke just left Glasgow for this fellowship and I know well how tough it is to make friends in a new city. I’m just trying to help...” There’s an amused, mock-concerned look on her face.

  I cross my arms defiantly. “You’re hooking me up with a guy I barely know? You out of your mind?”

  “Come on, he’s single, specialises in handsome, and needs to mingle. And you’re in urgent need to get naked and sweaty. It’s a win-win.”

  Agreed. Dr Green is quite a hunk of a man, all right. But still. It’d be like poking a wild animal with a stick. Filipe wouldn’t hesitate to rip his head off. Poor bloke indeed.

  “Good grief, Julie, you were supposed to be the voice of reason here! You know well that’s a terrible idea.”

  “I’m not telling you to move in with the guy, am I? All I’m saying is, you have to get back on the horse sometime! Why not with Dr Green? I’ve seen how he stares at you every time you walk past each other. He does the zig-zag thing!”

  I frown in confusion.

  “His eyes move in a triangle: he looks at you from eye to eye, then down to your mouth. Then he stops there. Imagining what it would be like to kiss you.” She gives me a wicked grin. “Hear me out: the man fancies you, I know what I’m talking!”

  “You’re delusional!”

  She holds up a hand asking me to wait and runs to her room with tiny steps. A few moments later she’s back. “Girl, you’re putting this on,”—an overtly provocative tiny black dress—“we have a few drinks, and you talk. If you hit it off, let yourself go! And then let him take you every way he can.”

  I let my mouth hang open in pretend shock.

  She taps it shut. “Livvy, you’re a beautiful, independent, smart woman. You know that letting go and opening your heart to someone else, to new experiences is healthy and essential in your path to recovery. Don’t be afraid to start over,” she says in a serious tone, her lips twitching as if to suppress laughter. “Right now there’s this hole in your life and, who knows, maybe this man will be able to fill it.”

  I narrow my eyes at her, barely able to stifle a snort. “What a lovely speech.”

  Catching her impish smile in the mirror, I place the dress in front of me and assess the reflected image.

  I immediately wonder if Julie is in her right mind. Under this deep V-neck, my boobs appearance would be far from subtle, not to mention it’s so short half the club would be able to check my knickers.

  “Forget about it!” I toss the black garment to the bed and push her out of my room.

  “Come on, this is the 21st century! What’s wrong with having a humping buddy? With sex for the sake of great sex? If you don’t like it, you can always play some Houdini act and get the hell out before he wakes up.”

  “If we’re going to impress Dr Green, we’re doing it the classy way. Now enough talk. Go get ready. I’m doing the same.”

  Chapter Two ~ Brian

  London

  Friday, 24 July 2015

  I need air. The large glass door closes behind me and suddenly the impressively ample Florence Hall has become too damn small and I can’t breathe.

  She is here.

  Though there must be a dining table with my name on it somewhere, I stride across the room and head to the bar instead.

  “I’ll have a whisky. Straight.”

  With a nod, the bartender grabs the bottle.

  “Make it a double, please.” I clench my jaw to stifle the emotions, the anger I feel pumping through my veins like deadly poison.

  A burst of cheering and applause fills the hall, vibrating within me like the rumble of an approaching thunder. I turn and scan the crowded room until my gaze rests on her, talking to a woman I’ve never seen before.

  Damn, she’s beautiful! Utterly elegant, with a touch of sophistication. The off-the-shoulder champagne dress against fair skin. The perfectly etched features. The long blond hair cascading down her back. The amazing sapphire eyes. The slightly parted red lips. An almost ethereal beauty.

  Too bad she’s a talented cheating liar, the voice of reason screams inside my head.

  I observe them for a moment, the woman who once meant so much and the man I looked up to like a father. Their intimate glances and knowing smiles. His hand running up and down her back in slow, gentle strokes, tracing the shape of her. The confident expression on his face as he proudly displays her, his latest accomplishment. But my downfall.

  Shaking my head in disgust, I clench the glass in my hand, my throat aching from suppressing the anger. I tur
n and stare at the amber liquid in front of me before I gulp it down in one swallow. It’s but a futile attempt to wash away the restlessness inside.

  Here’s the bare truth about deception: it’s happened to us all, one time or another. You’ve put your trust in someone only to find out later they were lying to your face, and you were being played according to their very own screwed up agenda. It may knock you down and consume you until you crawl onto your feet again. And when you do, your mind may still occasionally wander back and let it eat at you.

  And that’s exactly what’s happening today. Since she showed up uninvited at my doorstep wanting to talk.

  Except we didn’t talk much.

  I know! I should have told her to leave immediately when she came up with that nonsense, saying she missed me, that she was sorry and wanted back into my life. But I didn’t. I said nothing, only swiped everything off the granite surface and kissed her. Right there on the kitchen island. Furiously. Hands roaming her body like they had many times before. Out of longing? Out of raw lust? Out of pure anger?

  I have no idea. My mind was a blur, flooded with the desire to hear all those low moans escape her throat. And with the need to punish her. To take revenge on both of them. Some kind of wild justice to make them pay for what they’d done to me. For hurting everyone I care about.

  ‘You’ve got five minutes to get the hell out of my house!’ When I came to my senses, I grabbed my jacket and left, slamming the door behind me. She was sitting on the countertop, flushed, trying to catch her breath.

  “Goddamn fool,” I mutter under my breath, clunking the empty glass on the counter, cursing myself for allowing it to happen. The consciousness of regret is an all-consuming beast and, worse still, I’m old enough to have known better.

  Raising my hand, I ask for a refill and check my phone, which is buzzing for the hundredth time this evening. It’s my sister again, sitting across the room, certainly dying to tell me off and ask me where the hell I’ve been. It’s almost nine-thirty. I not only missed dinner but also half of the ceremony.