Dysfunctional Hearts Read online

  Dysfunctional Hearts

  L. S. Pullen

  Dysfunctional Hearts

  Text copyright © 2020 L. S. Pullen

  All Rights Reserved

  Copyright 2020 L. S. Pullen

  Published by: L. S. Pullen

  Edited by: Cassie Sharp

  Proofread by: Crystal A Blanton

  Cover Design by: Kat Savage @savagehartbookservices

  Formatted by: Julie Joyness

  The right of L. S. Pullen to be identified as the author of the work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, Designs and patents act 1988

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters in this publication are fictional and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Dedication

  In loving memory of Henry Jonathan Acquah.

  Contents

  Dedication

  Quote

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Epilogue

  Letter to Reader

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  “If you don’t know where you are going any road can take you there.”

  Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

  Chapter 1

  Charlie

  It’s been five minutes since Nate last asked me the time. And as amusing as it was the first couple of times, my patience is beginning to wear a little thin. I’m more than a cynic when it comes to weddings, and if it weren’t for me being his Best Mate, I wouldn’t have agreed to be here now.

  Shaking my head, I wonder if I should’ve just let him have that second shot of whiskey before we left my place. But the talk Felicity gave me last night was all the deterrent I needed. I don’t need to feel the wrath of his soon-to-be wife.

  I breathe in the fresh flowers and scan the violet wisteria which wraps around the front of the house. A choir of birds are singing in the surrounding trees. It’s as if they know a secret about life the rest of us don’t. It’s not hard to see why they chose to have the wedding here. Their home is the perfect backdrop, and if it were anyone else getting married, I’d say disgustingly so.

  A clack against concrete draws my attention to Nate’s nan, Evie. She gingerly navigates the steps with each tap of her walking stick. In three strides, I’m beside her, offering her my arm.

  “Charlie, my boy,” she says, slurring her words. Her speech isn’t what it once was—not since her stroke.

  She takes my arm, and I cover her hand with mine. Pulling her into me, I keep her steady as we descend the last few steps. Her skin—usually free of cosmetics—has been made up for the ceremony, resembling more of the refined woman I remember from growing up.

  “Nan, what are you doing over here?” Nate asks, concern in his voice.

  “Oh, hush,” she says.

  Releasing my arm, she cups Nate’s cheek. Her hand visibly trembles. “I wanted to see how you’re holding up?” she asks, amusement in her tone.

  “I’m shitting myself,” he replies.

  I snort out a laugh at Evie’s expression and cough to cover it up.

  “Nervous… I’m just nervous.”

  He gives me the side-eye, and I turn, watching as flashes of colour begin to flow over the freshly cut lawn. Other groomsmen usher the newly arrived guests to a lush seating area in front of the gazebo. I glance at my watch—we still have some time before this shindig gets started.

  “No need,” Evie answers, waving Nate’s concern away. “This was always meant to be, and I’m proud of the man you’ve become,” she says, her voice breaking.

  I swallow hard, wanting to duck away, but it’s hard not to watch their exchange when Nate places his hands on her frail shoulders.

  “You always were biased,” he replies, trying to keep his voice even.

  “Maybe a little,” she responds.

  “Do you want to go sit down? Where’s Ana?” he asks, his eyes drifting over the growing sea of guests.

  I follow the waves of crisp pressed suits and perfectly placed hair, searching for Ana, Felicity’s nan and Evie’s best friend since World War Two. I spot her among the throng—her silver, elegant hair standing out against the masses. My feet crunch over the gravel as I cross to intercept her stride and offer her my hand. She smiles, taking it gratefully. Ana refuses to use a walking aid.

  I can’t imagine what it must be like to know your body is at war with your mind and soul. Only now do I acknowledge their mortality, being so far away from my own nan and knowing she’s not as young as she used to be. The thought causes the hairs on the back of my neck to bristle.

  “You look lovely,” I say to her and mean it.

  She shakes her head softly and smiles, her eyes sparkling with the glint of her youth.

  “Rumour had it, I was quite the catch in my younger years,” she says, smiling.

  I glance down at her hand wrapped around my forearm and I’m drawn to her slightly off-kilter fingers. Her pinkie and the one beside it are scarred and crooked. I’ve always wondered what happened to them.

  “I don’t doubt that,” I say, then glance back to her face with a wink.

  She spends more of her time in England than in France now. But she refuses to give up the home in France and move back permanently. It holds too many memories of her and her late husband. When she talks about him, you’d think he was still here.

  A tug on my sleeve halts our stroll. I turn, relieved to see Nate and Evie. “Found her,” I say, patting Ana’s arm.

  There’s a fading concern in Nate’s eyes. The last thing the groom should be worried about on his wedding day is looking after others. I offer my other arm to Evie. “Can I escort you young ladies to your seats?”

  They agree, and we set off through the sea of guests once more, leaving Nate to worry about other things…like Flick leaving him at the altar. I chuckle to myself when we find their front and centre seats. Felicity would never, but it’s amusing to watch a man squirm.

  It’s already filling out with family and friends. Although they didn’t want a big wedding, I’d say the number of guests is still more significant t
han they intended. Rows of rustic white wooden chairs with satin soft seat covers line either side of the ivory-satin aisle.

  I excuse myself once Ana and Evie are settled and make my way back to join Nate. But a boisterous yell stops me. I know that yell.

  “Charlie, my man!”

  I smile, turning to Simon. “Damn good to see you,” I say, holding out my hand.

  “We were worried we wouldn’t make it in time,” he says, peering over his shoulder as his boyfriend strolls our way.

  “Ryan, glad you both made it.” I shake his hand.

  “Barely,” he replies, cocking a brow to Simon.

  Ryan bumps Simon’s shoulder. Ryan is a big, robust guy—the opposite of Simon, who is tall and slender. He smiles and winks in response.

  “I had a wardrobe mishap, and we missed our flight,” Simon says, casting his eyes heavenward.

  I didn’t doubt it. Simon would have moved mountains to be here today. He might be living in New York now, but he’s always been tight with Flick and Sophie; thick as thieves, those three.

  “I’d love to catch up, but I need to get back to the groom.”

  Simon waves his hand in front of me to shoo me off. “Go, we’ll catch up after the ceremony. And if you’re really lucky, I’ll even save you a dance.”

  I let out a laugh and wink. “You wish, man.”

  His laugh echoes behind me as I walk away.

  I return to Nate, who hasn’t strayed from where I left him. I grab his shoulder and give it a firm squeeze. “Dude, would you chill out already?”

  His eyes cut to mine as he bounces on the balls of his feet.

  Shaking my head, I smile. “You’re comical right now, you know that? You’ve got this…you asked her, she said yes,” I say with a laugh.

  “Easy for you to say, it’s not like your heart is trying to claw its way out of your chest,” he replies dryly. He swallows, but it appears painful.

  I want to give him shit, but honestly, he’s on the verge of freaking out as it is.

  “Everything will be fine,” I say, flicking my wrist. “It’s almost time.” I slap him on the shoulder and glance around. The majority of the guests are now seated.

  That’s when I see her.

  Momentarily, the air gets caught in my throat, and I forget how to breathe. It’s the same reaction I had the first time I saw her. And every time since.

  Sophie.

  Sweat begins to trickle down my spine. And although it’s stifling, I’m glad the suit jacket will hide my indiscretion. I wipe my brow. Please don’t let me sweat all over her when I lead her down the aisle.

  With no one paying me any attention, I openly take her in as she talks to both Maddie and Flick’s mum.

  I’ve not seen her since we came back from Torquay. And as much as I hate to admit it, I’ve missed her. I follow the lines of her full-length purple dress. It hugs every luscious curve, and damn if I’m not jealous of all that silk.

  She glances up, and I swallow hard when her eyes catch mine. From here I can see hers, and although kind, they’re also clouded with a wary resistance. Those deep pools of blue, always fighting against an unseen current. Loose curls hang over her shoulder like thick rope, and her usual wild strands are tucked behind her ears, but I know they’re fighting to break free. The sunlight ricochets from her movements, reflecting warm, russet tones in a halo of light. Before I get the chance to acknowledge her, she glances away, smoothing the front of her dress. Even from here, I know it’s already immaculate.

  Sophie

  I hold my hand up to shield my eyes from the light as it reflects all around me. It’s already hot, and I’m worried this makeup won’t last the day. I’m not too concerned about my hair. I think there’s enough hairspray to keep it tamed at least until the reception. The ceremony starts at three, but it only seems to be getting hotter.

  I thought it was hot yesterday while I baked Felicity those hundred mini cupcake favours she desperately wanted. But this is worse. Hopefully, they’re holding up and the buttercream hasn’t melted.

  My eyes drift to the masses of guests milling around their seats. At least Flick and Nate had the good sense to set up an open gazebo over the seating area. This is, after all, England, and the weather is unpredictable. A train of ivory satin runs down the length of the aisle, bringing out the vibrant greens of the surrounding property. I can’t wait to see their tree adorned with the fairy lights once the sunsets.

  The archway at the end of the aisle is wrapped in an array of flowers—a kaleidoscope of colour. I breathe in the scent of freshly cut grass and wildflowers. I’m so used to being close to the city centre, but it’s different here…on the outskirts of the country. The air has a more purified quality; it’s clean and fresh.

  A baby’s cry draws my line of sight towards Rachel. She’s struggling, and I take the few steps over to her.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  Her eyes dart to mine. “Sorry, she’s been fussing all night. Teething.” Her head casts down again as she digs around in a bag while holding Molly on her hip.

  “Do you need a hand?” I ask.

  Without time to object, she passes Molly into my arms, and my stomach dips, an ache I can’t explain. I squash it down and tap the tip of her nose with my finger, then blow her a raspberry. Molly giggles, her cheeks begging for me to squeeze them. I was wary of Rachel. She used to sleep with Nate. But she’s not so bad and Flick being Flick adopted her into our circle.

  “Got it!” she declares like it’s the find of the century and does a little wiggle, holding out a stuffed bunny to Molly.

  “You look lovely,” I say, taking in her long, multi-coloured dress, paired off with cork and white strappy wedges.

  “Thank you. If you can’t make an effort for a wedding, when can you?” Her cheeks flush a little. “I love your dress. Flick did well with her colour scheme. You look beautiful,” she says, looking me up and down with a bright smile.

  I’m glad she thinks so. We spent most of the morning being made-up and having bridal party photographs taken. My jaw aches from all the smiling, but it’s worth it—Flick is happy.

  An usher interrupts us to direct Rachel to where they’ll be sitting. She reaches for Molly whose bottom lip trembles.

  “No, me stay,” Molly says, wriggling away from Rachel.

  “Oh, it’s okay, baby girl. You’ll see Sophie later,” she says.

  “Kay,” Molly says, and I smile, shaking her little chubby hand. “I’ll see you later, princess,” I say and wave as they head off to their seats.

  Turning back, Flick’s little sister, Maddie, walks through the arch of the back door and skips down the steps, staring at her ballet flats with bright pink bows. On the last step, she peers out in front of her and stops. Mouth agape, her eyes glimmer with curiosity as she scans all the guests dressed in their finest.

  I smile, not quite believing today is the day my best friend gets married. She deserves this and so much more.

  I swallow down the sudden rush of guilt as the past attempts to collide with the present, but I won’t let it, not today. What happened to us was no more my fault than it was hers. I’m not saying she needs a man to make her happy, but Nate was her missing piece. I’m glad they found their way back to each other; if any two people belong together it’s them.

  She’s been my rock for so long, and I’m humbled that today I can be the same for her. When my family disowned me, and the so-called love of my life high-tailed his way out of my life quicker than a greyhound, she was one of the few who stayed. And it’s not only because of what happened to us. Flick would have stayed anyway.

  A slap on my behind causes me to blanch and spin on my heels…to find a cocky Simon staring back at me. I give him a love punch and then launch myself at him. My heart races as I squeeze him hard and breathe in his wildwood and citrus scent. I’ve missed him.

  “When did you get here?” I ask, pulling back.

  He glances to his Rolex and back to me. “About
half an hour ago.”

  “Does Flick know you’re here?” I ask, unable to wipe the smile off my face.

  “Yes, she was my first port of call.” He pulls me back into him again. “I’ve missed you, sweetness. I’d best find our seats. We’ll chat after,” he says, gesturing to Ryan over his shoulder. I pull away from him to give Ryan a quick hug before they walk away.

  I was so worried he wouldn’t make it in time. When he texted to say they had missed their flight but managed to get on the next available one, he said it would be tight, but he would come straight here if he had to. I breathe a sigh of relief.

  My eyes roam until they collide with Charlie, and for a brief moment, everything else slows down. He’s handsome on a bad day. But today, wow. I’m drawn to his dark blonde hair—usually curling just at the ends—which has been trimmed for the occasion: short back and sides. His above-average height and build make him stand out, but even more so in a suit. His dark ocean eyes and tanned skin is more prominent against his fresh white shirt.

  I feel the tell-tale signs of my skin heating, and it’s not from the weather. The last time I saw him, I woke up in his arms. Even though nothing happened, I’ve made a point to avoid him ever since. I don’t even know how to make sense of it. I blink and avert my eyes, my heart pounding a crazy, staccato beat.