The Problem With Heartache Read Online Free Page A

would make that stop.
    That wasn’t the worst part, though.
    The worst part was waking up.
     

     
    “So, let me get this straight. The lead singer of the Grammy-award winning Coal asked you to go on tour with them, and pay you a stupid amount of money to do so, and you said no. Capiche?” Stacey threw a tennis ball at the ceiling and then caught it with a snap against her chest.
    “Something like that,” I mumbled, slurping the dregs of my milkshake and then sliding it across the red Formica tabletop. I looked around, taking in the 50s-style diner set-up, the black and white tiles … the coffee machine …
    Lachlan, grinding the beans. The smell of coffee as he ran it through the machine. His chocolate-brown eyes, flicking up to me as I spoke.
    Me.
    Him seeing me.
    Him touching me.
    “Kate.”
    I blinked, and I was back where I was two seconds ago, only it was Stacey’s hand around my wrist. And Lachlan wasn’t there.
    Lachlan was never there, despite how many times I was convinced I’d seen him. He’d left me. For good.
    “Sorry.” I pulled my wrist back into my lap where it busied itself with my other hand, twisting and scratching and pulling. I had all this energy, all the time now—and nowhere to expel it. Lesley, my counsellor, said it was because I was feeling so much emotion but I wasn’t getting it out, so it expelled itself in a physical manifestation. Mum just thought I had a massive case of the fidgets.
    “Don’t apologise, sweetie.” Stacey gave my arm a gentle rub and then pulled back, perhaps thinking the better of it. “It’s allowed to still hurt, you know?”
    Tears welled in my eyes for the zillionth time in the last six months and I blinked them back. It was stupid how often I cried now. Anything could set me off, from a trip down to Sydney, to my best friend caring.
    “Anyway, so no, I’m not going on tour,” I said, shrugging the emotional stuff off. Sometimes, it was easier that way.
    “Why?”
    “Heaps of reasons. He’s doing it out of charity. I’ll be away from my family. And I need to stay here, for Johnny.” I let my eyes roam to the counter where Johnny was just finishing up the milk on a cappuccino. He saw me looking and smiled. I grinned back at him. Both of our eyes were empty, but we got each other. And it was nice. It was nice having someone who understood.
    “Charity? He’s paying you to perform a job. And pretty crap money. Two grand? That’s five hundred a week. After tax, and considering you’ll be on call seven days, that’s nothing,” Stacey scoffed, leaning back in her seat, conveniently leaving the ‘all expenses paid’ part out of the equation. “And yes, you’ll be away from your family—for the short length of two months. ”
    “A lot can happen in two months.”
    “It can, Kate. But what has happened in the last two? I mean, aside from me coming back from touring with the band to find you’ve lost about half your body weight and now look like a microphone stand.” She shook her head. “But seriously, how did you keep your boobs? I exercise, and I exercise, and they’re the first things to go.” She looked miserably at her chest, and pushed up her more than ample breasts. An elderly gentleman at the table next to us widened his eyes to the point where I worried they may fall out of his head. I smiled.
    “Okay, so I get that it’s not that long a time, and Mum can probably handle anything family, but what about Johnny?” Stacey’s eyes scanned the room and I saw the moment they locked on Johnny. I saw because they got this look of depth, of sadness, of regret. Had my best friend always been so empathetic when it came to death? “He needs me.”
    “Kate, I have no doubt he does.” She leaned forward and rested a hand on my knee. Why was everyone so touchy-feely with me lately? Did I look that needy? “But the thing is, he’s stepping back from the café to be with Lesley. You told me so yourself.”
    I swallowed. It was true. My