Bitter Sweet Love (Michael Faudet) Read online

that swallow,

  the last piece

  of sugary sex.

  The River Bank

  It was a gin and tonic kind of lazy summer’s day. Pleasantly warm with just a hint of lavender in the air. One of those languid, do-nothing kind of afternoons, sitting under the old willow tree; its weeping branches reaching out and caressing the cool waters of the muddy riverbank.

  Morphine’s slender fingers danced a gentle waltz through her sister’s ash-blond hair, turning the wispy strands of silvery yellow into perfect braids that fell across bare shoulders of milky white.

  Opium quietly took a sip from her tall glass, stopping only to wince when Morphine pulled a little too hard on an errant lock that had tried to escape her busy hands.

  Heroin, the eldest of the three, blew smoke rings into the air, flicking the ash from the freshly rolled joint onto the soft blanket of grass. She instantly knew from the very first toke that this particular harvest from her father’s latest crop was destined to be, using his words, “a vintage year.”

  “My turn, my turn, pass it over here, H,” said Opium in her singsong voice, her arm outstretched and finger comically beckoning for the joint.

  Heroin took another deep lungful of smoke before handing it over and reaching for the manuscript that sat beside her. A collection of neatly typed pages, all ring-bound and written by her esteemed father, who lectured in biology and botany at Spectre Hall University.

  When he wasn’t teaching and writing books, Professor Estrange spent his idle days focused on his real passion in life: growing rare orchids and cultivating mind-enhancing new strains of marijuana.

  “Yummy, yummy, yummy,” cried Opium, a crooked smile slowly creeping across her pretty face. She watched as a spiraling column of bluish smoke rose up from her rosy lips and faded into the gentle breeze.

  None of the girls heard the footsteps and were pleasantly startled when Serena appeared from behind them.

  “Well then, what do we have here? A pretty young wolf on the hunt for helpless lambs,” said Heroin, laughing.

  Serena drifted silently to the ground, her summer dress forming a pool of swirling white cotton upon the sea of green. Her slender arm wrapping itself around Heroin’s naked shoulders, lips kissing lips.

  “You two should get a room,” sniggered Opium, blowing a large plume of smoke into the air.

  “You’re just jealous,” Morphine replied, poking her sister hard in the ribs with a perfectly manicured finger. “Now sit still. I’ve got one more braid to do.”

  “Ouch! You can be such a fucking bitch, M.”

  Opium angrily pulled herself away from Morphine’s busy hands and stood up. She took a deep toke on the dying joint and flicked it away, sending it spiraling into the river.

  Heroin ran a finger gently down Serena’s cheek, tracing a line across her wet lips, the two lovers completely oblivious to Opium’s little hissy fit.

  Morphine gathered up the empty glasses and started to pack them away in a wicker basket, along with the half-empty bottle of gin. The unwelcome visit by a determined wasp, hovering, landing, and hovering again, made Opium giggle.

  “I hope it stings you,” she said, laughing as Morphine tried to shoo the unwanted visitor away.

  Serena glanced up at Opium and flashed her a smile. “How’s tricks, O?”

  “Well, I was all fine and dandy before my witch of a sister decided to break my ribs,” Opium replied.

  Morphine laughed and picked up the basket. “Time to leave these two alone. Come on, you cry baby.”

  Opium reluctantly took Morphine’s outstretched hand and the two sisters departed silently, like two ghosts lost in a forest of swaying trees and humming dragonflies.

  —

  Serena watched the sun melt into the distance, the river taking on an eerie orange hue, painting the reeds with long, dark shadows. She was naked. The white dress folded neatly by her side, a pair of crumpled pink panties hanging on a branch.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” she sighed.

  Heroin was already dressed, a joint freshly lit, sitting cross-legged, one hand flicking through her father’s manuscript. She looked up, took another toke, and blew a perfect smoke ring.

  “Then why are you leaving? What’s so important about New York, anyway?”

  A flotilla of ducks glided across the water. Serena stared blankly at them. She could feel the tears starting to run down her cheeks.

  “I love you, H, and perhaps I always will.”

  The Diary of Heroin Estrange. June 8, 1998

  If my ink were tears, would this pen never stop writing?

  I cannot begin to fathom the intricate nature of love, the endless “whys” and the cold reality of “because.” My restless heart held ransom by circumstance, left to drown in a river on a perfect summer’s day. The memory of your kisses still fresh upon my lips.

  Can a blade not cut any deeper into my pale wrists?

  Your parting words, my life flowing from me. The pain unbearable. Overwhelming.

  Only the echo of your laughter left behind to taunt me, a constant reminder of the happiness we once shared. Your body entwined in mine, all warmth fading as the minutes turn to hours.

  Oh, to be numb. To escape the cruel torment of such bitter sweet love.

  There is no perfect ending to a relationship.

  No magic formula.

  Just a silent scream as they rip your fucking heart out.

  A Rabbit Hole

  I have never been fond of farewells or good-byes.

  So instead I’ll invite you to fall down the rabbit hole again.

  Hopefully, like a spinning revolving door, the pages will turn and our paths will cross once more.

  Back to where the journey began at the beginning of this book.

  I hope you enjoyed reading Bitter Sweet Love as much as I did writing it.

  Please stay in touch and feel free to share your thoughts and photographs on my Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram pages.

  Thank you so much for your kind support.

  I truly appreciate it.

  I write because you exist.

  —Michael xo

  Acknowledgments

  A big thank-you to my wonderful literary agent, Al Zuckerman. Your ongoing advice and support is always much appreciated. Thank you also to Samantha Wekstein and the rest of the team at Writers House, New York.

  Thank you so much, Kirsty Melville, Patty Rice, and everyone at Andrews McMeel for making this book possible and taking it to the world. I am truly grateful.

  A special thank-you to Tinca Veerman for her amazing artwork on the front cover. Just like the cover you did for my book Dirty Pretty Things, it is beautiful beyond words.

  To Oliver, my amazing son whose wisdom exceeds his age. Thank you for letting me win (sometimes) at Uno. I love you more than all the stars in the universe.

  Mum and Dad, thank you for always being there for me and building the best bonfires ever.

  Much love to my gorgeous sister, Genevieve, who when she isn’t saving lives is poolside helping Ryder win another gold medal.

  To my delightfully mad friends. Now you know why I’ve been missing in action. Looking forward to catching up for a glass or six of wine soon.

  And last but never least, a massive thank-you to all my readers.

  Join Michael Faudet on the following:

  Check out these other great titles from Andrews McMeel Publishing!

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Can You Remember?

  Chasing Love

  Wonderfully Right

  The Letter

  The Northern Lights

  Proximity

  Sleepwalking

  Regret

  Wonderfully Lost

  There Was a Time

  A Broken Heart

  Eyes Closed

  A Willow Weeps

  Insomnia

  Our Autumn Came

  Her Kisses

  A Snowflake Falls


  Swans in the Park

  Her Eyes

  Parachutes

  42

  Femme Fatale

  My Heart

  The Garden

  The Bed We Made

  The Gypsy Girl

  We Spoke

  A Tragedy

  We Wrote

  It Was Love

  Another Year

  In Twilight Skies

  No Regret

  Miami

  Seasons Change

  A Beautiful Night

  Petals

  Peppermint Tea

  Rainbow

  Wish You Were Here

  Borderlands

  The Séance

  May Angels Sing

  Daydreaming

  Respect Yourself

  Paper Plane

  The Beach House

  Venus

  A Lover’s Touch

  The Final Act

  We Made Love

  We All Drown

  Midnight in Manhattan

  Love

  Sunday in Bed

  Thinking of You

  Cherry Blossom

  Sunrise

  My Little Lighthouse

  The Mirror

  Lily

  A Bell Does Sing

  Imperfection

  Madly in Love

  My Life Before You

  Eclipse

  Sophia

  I Miss You

  Gold

  With You

  Quicksand

  The Boardwalk

  Possessed

  I Remember a Time

  Room 613

  The Park

  Summer Storm

  Persian Fairy Floss

  The River Bank

  The Diary of Heroin Estrange. June 8, 1998

  A Rabbit Hole

  Acknowledgments