Chapter 7
The dim light of the Rovers flickered softly, casting shadows on the worn wooden floor. Carla sat at the bar, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass, the familiar burn of wine soothing yet stinging her throat. It was a routine she had clung to, a sanctuary from the chaos that thrummed around her. But tonight, the once-comforting embrace of alcohol felt like shackles, tightening with every swirl of the red liquid.
The memories of her last conversation with Lisa loomed large, replaying like a broken record in her mind. The sharp words, the heat of the moment, the way she had pushed Lisa away, both physically and emotionally. Carla's heart sank at the memory of Lisa's expression—hurt, confused, and frustrated. She had been nothing but supportive, a beacon of strength during Carla's darkest hours. Yet, it had all felt too close, too intense, and for Carla, intimacy bred fear.
She drew in a shaky breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. The warmth of companionship was something she had longed for since the day Peter left, yet every time she felt it creeping in, the walls she had built crumbled under the weight of vulnerability. The ghost of her marriage haunted her, a constant reminder of trust betrayed and love lost. She had dared to dream of closeness again, but with each passing day, that dream turned into a nightmare of dependency.
Lisa had entered her life like a breath of fresh air. A fierce presence, someone who understood the intricate dance of secrets and struggles. They had shared laughter, deep talks, and moments of serendipity that felt like fleeting magic. Carla had allowed herself to smile again, to hope. Yet, as their friendship evolved, an undercurrent of attraction surged beneath the surface, a current she was ill-equipped to handle.
The thought of needing someone again felt like a treacherous abyss. She remembered the consequences of clinging too tightly—a heart that shattered, a trust broken. The fragile parts of her that had stitched themselves together again threatened to unravel whenever she considered the possibility of relying on another person. Lisa, with her fierce determination and unwavering support, had become a lifeline; and the very idea of losing that terrified Carla- that’s if she hadn’t lost it already.
As she sipped her drink, Carla’s mind wandered back to the fiery exchange that had torn their friendship apart. “You don’t need to do this alone!” Lisa had pleaded, her voice cutting through Carla’s defenses. But Carla had yelled back, “You think you can just waltz in like some rescuer and fix everything?” Anger had spilled over, an eruption of fear masked as fury. In pushing Lisa away, Carla had tried to shield herself from the shadows of dependency that preyed upon her thoughts.
And now, weeks had passed in silence. Her phone sat lifeless on the bar, nothing but a reminder of her failure. What would she even say? The words swirled around her, tangled and heavy, each one a thread that could unravel the fragile fabric of their friendship. Carla’s heart twisted at the thought of reaching out, of trying to mend what had been broken. Would Lisa even want to hear from her? Would she still be there, or had Carla ruined everything?
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she remembered the warmth of Lisa’s laughter, the way her eyes sparkled with determination and kindness. But alongside that memory lurked the fear that clung to her like a shadow. What if allowing Lisa close meant letting her in on the chaos that brewed within? What if their connection became another painful reminder of her past failures?
Carla set her glass down, the clink reverberating in the hollow space of the pub. She couldn’t keep pretending that this void didn’t exist, that pushing Lisa away was for the best. The truth was, she missed her friend. She missed the ease with which they had shared secrets, moments of vulnerability laced with laughter. In a world that felt increasingly lonely, Lisa had been a light, illuminating paths Carla had feared to tread.
With a resolve she hadn’t felt in weeks, Carla picked up her phone, fingers trembling as she hovered over Lisa’s name. She inhaled deeply, the aroma of spirits mingling with the scent of regret. She had to reach out; she had to try.
The weight of her choices loomed in the background, but as Carla pressed send, a flicker of hope ignited within her chest. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to bridge the chasm she had created, a way to let Lisa know that despite the fear, she wanted to try again.
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Lisa sank into the familiar embrace of her sofa, the cushions slightly worn from countless evenings spent in solitude. The soft light of the living room cast gentle shadows, dancing across the photographs adorning the walls—each one a story, a memory that tugged at her heart. But amidst the smiles captured in those frames, one absence lingered heavier than the rest: Becky. Three years had passed since the world lost her vibrant spirit, yet the echo of their laughter lingered, a bittersweet melody that accompanied Lisa through each day.
She glanced at the framed photo of Becky on the mantel, her heart ached with the weight of both love and loss. They had shared dreams, whispered secrets, and a vision of a future that would never come to be. Every corner of Lisa's home was infused with Becky’s essence, from the faint scent of lavender that still clung to the sheets to the beloved books stacked high on the shelf, each one a piece of a shared life. Letting go felt like betraying a love that had defined her entire being.
But then, there was Carla. Just a few months ago, she had been a pain in her neck—a woman who she seemed to always be at odds with. Yet, like an unexpected spark, Carla had ignited something within Lisa that she had buried under layers of grief and fear. Their interactions, filled with laughter and shared vulnerability, began to chip away at the fortress she'd built to keep her heart safe. With Carla, everything felt beautifully chaotic, a colourful collision of emotions that stirred the silent corners of Lisa’s soul.
Yet with that exhilaration came a surge of turmoil. Lisa grappled with the contrast of her feelings—the longing for closeness with Carla battled against the haunting memories of Becky. How could she allow herself to care for someone new when the ghost of her past love shadowed her every thought? At times, it felt like an unspoken betrayal to seek comfort in another, yet she yearned for connection, for the warmth of companionship that she had so deeply missed.
And then came that dreadful moment when Carla had pushed her away. The memory sliced through Lisa like a shard of glass. The heat of their argument echoed in her mind—the words they had exchanged felt like a rift carving through their budding bond. Lisa’s heart had weighed heavy with confusion and hurt. Did Carla not see how hard she had tried to be there? How desperately she wanted to lift the weight off Carla's shoulders?
Deep down, Lisa understood what had happened that day: those walls Carla had erected were built from years of fear and scars left by a turbulent past. Lisa recognised the pain in Carla's eyes, the almost instinctual need to retreat when things got too close, too raw. It reminded Lisa of her own fears, of her reluctance to let go of Becky, of the pain that came with allowing someone new to fill a space that had always belonged to her wife.
A twinge of guilt flickered in Lisa’s chest. Was it wrong to want both? To want Carla's companionship while grieving Becky’s absence? There were moments when she felt herself edging closer to Carla, tempted to embrace the warmth of another's heart. But each time, the image of Becky would hold her back—a gentle reminder of a love that could never be replaced.
Time lingered in the air as Lisa sat, trapped in her thoughts, feeling the chasm between wanting to reach out to Carla and battling the remnants of loss. Just then, her phone buzzed on the coffee table, breaking the silence like a thunderclap. Anxiously, she reached for it, her heart racing as she flipped the screen to reveal a message from Carla.
“Hey, Lisa. Please can we talk? -Carla”
For a moment, Lisa's breath hitched in her throat. The simplicity of the words felt monumental, an olive branch extended across the void that had formed between them. A rush of emotions surged through her—relief, anticipation, and a flicker of hope. Perhaps this was the moment to take a leap, to break free from her own fears and insecurities. She wanted Carla to know that she cared deeply, that she was ready to weather the storm together.
But creeping doubts nudged at the back of her mind. What if it only deepened the hurt? What if she couldn’t help but bring up Becky, stirring up grief that refused to fully dissipate? And what if, in reaching for Carla, she lost touch with the love that had been an indelible part of her story?
With shaking hands, Lisa hesitated, her thumb hovering over the screen. The air felt thick with unspoken truths and fragmented feelings. Motivated by the promise of reconciliation and the glimmer of hope that began to unfurl within her, Lisa finally typed back, her heart racing in tandem with her thoughts.
“Yes. I’d love to talk.”
She hit send and leaned back against the sofa, the weight of uncertainty still heavy in her chest, but the flicker of hope felt brighter than before.