Against All Odds

Chapter 2

KILLIAN

I was being an ass. I knew I was, but Stella stirred something in me that I couldn't begin to control.

I forced my shoulders to relax, the tension having built within them over the last hour and settling as hard knots at the base of my neck. At least the storm had abated as we left the city and began to needle through the longer, narrower roads towards Bloemfontein. Currently, we had pulled into a petrol station while the sun began to set behind ominously looming dark clouds on the horizon, the air damp and humid outside.

Stella emerged from the sliding doors of the station shop, her arms laden with parcels. What the hell had she bought? No wonder she had been gone for so long.

Something by Def Leppard poured through the stereo and I grunted my vexation, promptly configuring it to my Bluetooth so that I wouldn't have to endure the next few hours listening to whatever torture she was inflicting upon me.

Even while I did this, I found it almost impossible to keep my gaze averted from the woman striding with a familiar skip in her step across the puddled tarmac. She was dressed appallingly and smelt like wet dog, but there was something captivating about Stella. There always had been.

She was not conventionally pretty, more quirky and cute with her large tortoise-shell glasses and huge cerulean eyes. Her hair was always dyed some sort of colour as she claimed that her brown locks were boring. When we had been dating, a variety of colours had been experimented with- bright greens and blues, pinks and purples not excluded. Presently, she seemed to be content with a solid black- though this highlighted the brightness of her eyes and the paleness of her skin. She had knotted it in a messy bun at the crown of her head and it tilted and bobbed precariously to one side as she trotted towards the excessively large SUV I had rented for the week.

Her attire was not appropriate for the summer- her long-sleeved thermals rolled up to her elbows and tucked into her snug-fitting jeans, the large pair of Ugg boots on her feet. Despite her layers, very little hid the allure of her curves.

I had always found her appealing- her wide hips and soft thighs, her slightly out-turned gait as she walked, everything about her really- but having her in such close proximity to me was making it difficult to recall everything that had happened between us all those years ago.

She had left.

Without an explanation.

Without giving us a chance.

It hadn't taken me very long to leave the country and settle in Dublin after Stella had left all those years ago. The pain had been acute- losing her felt as if a part of me had been amputated, lost forever- and it had taken me years to heal, to even contemplate another relationship with any other woman again. And even when I had, I knew that something had been missing.

Nothing would ever compare to what I had with Stella. And I supposed I still resented her for snatching it away from me without so much as a goodbye or thank you.

Awkwardly, she nudged open the driver's side door and dumped the bags on the seat. "I bought you a coffee," she told me, brandishing the takeaway cup in front of my nose until I was forced to take it from her.

"Thanks."

"And padkos*, of course." She rummaged curiously through the parcels and withdrew a packet of crisps, chocolate slabs and a few pastries.

"Bloemfontein is about two hours away," I pointed out dryly.

Stella shrugged, tossing most of the junk food into the console between us before clambering into the vehicle and shutting the door. "I'm exhausted. I need to eat to keep myself alert."