Midnight Tequila | Holy Trinity

Chapter Thirty Four

"I called Keanu." Jennifer entered the room, a phone pressed against her chest, "Sandra didn't call him since she got here. He said  that Sandra had been ignoring him, but that's just it."

Everyone in the room was shocked. Cate looked up as she heard those words coming from her friend. She was shocked, but somehow, it was like a lovesong running in a vinyl and she was loving it. She wanted to smile and scream because finally, Sandra was ignoring her boyfriend, but she couldn't. How could she be happy when Sandra left?

"And he didn't know where she is. He kept contacting her, but just like us, she doesn't answer." Jen added worriedly as she sunk on the chair with Julia.

"Cate, what did she say in the letter?" Gillian broke the silence.

The blonde looked at her friends. Her eyes were lethargic and the tears that were dwelling inside were threathening to fall. She heaved a sigh.

"She said she's not coming back."

Helena held her head, "Poor Sandy. What is she thinking? That we will just sit down and be okay with her sudden departure?"

The blonde exasperatedly stood from the bed, "This is my fault." She mumbled, her friends looking at her like predators, "I hurt her." She added and when she did, her tears fell, "I hurt her and I know she's badly hurt. This is all my fault. All mine." She spoke standing on the centre of the room with all of her friends watching her.

Jen walked up to her and threw her an arm, "Stop it. We don't know yet and it's not --"

Jennifer wasn't able to finish what she was about to say when there was a knock on the door. Everyone inside the room exchanged looks because they were all present inside and nobody called for a room service. There was a knock again and so Abby stood up.

"I'll take it." The young woman mumbled as she walked towards the door.

Everyone's eyes focused on the door and when Abby opened it, a big funeral bouquet stood outside. Everyone gasped and Cate sat there, her lips parted.

"There's a note." Abby mumbled, took the note and read it, "It's for Sandra."

And before all of them could even say a word again, Cate angrily ran towards the funeral bouquet and she smashed it on the wall. The whole bouquet broke and all the flowers flew in the air. The blonde then grabbed the note from Abby's hand and without words, she tore it harshly. Her friends were silent, not knowing what should they really say.

And finally, the blonde stopped, "She's not dead." She spoke, her loose hair hanging on her face, "She's not." She said again before she walked back towards the bed, got the letter and walked out of the room.

-----

Why do old heartbreaks feel like brand new everyday? They would become a long-living torment reviving the nightmares whenever one wakes up; they are after one's footsteps. Cate and Sandra were each other's yesterday's pain, not until tomorrow decides to know them over again so that their heartstrings would strum a renewed rhythm of every broken heartbeat. Their ears could still hear the pitch of the same midnight cries and their lips could still sing in the lyrics of the same silent sobs every time the nightfall tends to forget them. They were always each other's push and pull, and all too well, they've memorized the brokenhearted alphabets, yet they still get lost halfway writing despair; they still get missing amidst spelling their own names.

Both have written never-aging elegies in between their ribcages and their heart still reads the grief. It throbs tragic odes when it beats the syllables of moving on. Their heart will always be bruised even if it wants to be healed. The past wounds they've etched were still open to bleed more - they wouldn't become scars. It would stay in their cores -  to be the rebirth of woeful flashbacks, and it would never be old enough to hurt them every dawn and dusk, every midday and midnight, anytime in their every day. Yet maybe, just maybe, old heartbreaks feel brand new every day because they're just used to studying their love story, but never learning the pain.

The week-long birthday bash for Jennifer didn't turn out the way they imagined it to be. After receiving that funeral flower, the blonde decided to look for Sandra. She didn't know where to begin, where to even go first, all she knew was that she needed to do something. While all of her friends, including Abby went back to New York, the blonde stayed. She would not be leaving California unless she's holding Sandra's hand.

Cate left the resort that afternoon. And she went on driving along the streets of Malibu, under the heat of the scorching sun, hoping to catch the glimpse of the one that got away. She drove all day, but still, Sandra's shadow couldn't be found. It's midnight already, and the blonde found herself back in the same hotel where she was in almost two years ago, that same hotel where she met Rooney, that same hotel where Sandra begged her. It was the nearest to where she was and so she checked into the resort. The resort seemed strange now, it changed, but still, the sea was there, so familiar and it was calling her.

The blonde walked out of her room, and walked towards the shore. Her phone was clasped gently between her fingers and when she sat on the sand, her tears finally fell. She remembered that time when Sandra looked for her when she left, the brunette having no knowledge of where she was; she could picture how frantic, worried and sad Sandra was, and now, it was her turn. The coin had been flipped. Sandra left and it was not her who would go and look for her. Cate pressed her lips together as she stared at her phone on hand. She'd been calling Sandra, hell, she was sure she'd been dialling her number for over a hundred times, but she wasn't picking it up.

The blonde exasperatedly put her phone down. She was tired and her head was badly aching. She should be in the bed right now, but how could she when her mind was still wandering? The gushing of the gentle air, the pungent smell of the feral sea was there, teasing her insides and trying to calm her down, but still, there was no use. Cate stretched her long legs on the shore, and in a snap, the waves were slowly reaching up to her. Somehow, it felt nice and so calming. She closed her eyes, but she was taken aback when something settled on her toes. She opened her eyes, a hundred percent sure that it must be a dead seaweed, but when she reached for her toes , it sparkled. She picked it up and her eyes gleamed as it glimmered under the moonlit beam. It was a necklace, and it was so familiar. Her eyes watered as she held it between her palm. She couldn't be mistaken. She couldn't be.

"Hey..." Cate stopped, and turned her head back, "You're holding my necklace."

***