My chair scrapes against the tiled floor as I stand, my eyes wide, my mind working on stringing together a pissed-off retort. My skin heats under the eyes of impatient suits queuing to be served, irritated baristas and the handful of seated coffee-drinkers.
‘Why didn’t you call or message? Sandy said… Christ, it doesn’t matter what she said. You should’ve come home.’
‘So now you’re conspiring with Sandy too. What did she say?’
‘She said you didn’t want to come home. God, I thought. If you’d have done anything stupid, if you’d harmed yourself, I don’t know what I would’ve done.’ He’s shaking his head, his eyes squeezed shut.
‘Gregory, stop being ridiculous. I can’t believe you think I’d?—’
‘How the hell am I supposed to know either way if you don’t call?’
I fold my arms across my body instinctively as I cast my eyes around the space. ‘Could you please stop being neurotic?’ The words grate through my gritted teeth.
He sighs; his shoulders sag. ‘Things have been hard but… but I thought that as long as you and I were okay, we’d get through it. It broke my heart to think you wouldn’t come home to me, Scarlett.’
And the look in your eyes just broke mine.
‘I feel suffocated, Gregory. There’s so much going on and I don’t know how to deal with it. I want to be strong for you. I know everything is worse for you; even though I don’t want youto, you’re taking the blame. I just need space to think. Away from it all.’
The question of Dubai pricks my mind again.
He steps towards me, the feeling of his warm palms on my cheeks soothing me. ‘Baby, I’d rather you were honest with me. I’d rather see you messed up and be able to take care of you than not see you.’
I look up and find two apprehensive but gentle eyes questioning me. ‘That’s just it. I don’t want you to have to take care of me. I don’t want to be another burden for you.’ I look away from him, internally cursing the tears spiking the backs of my eyes.
‘Look at me.’
I don’t.
‘Baby, look at me, please.’
Swallowing away the impending rush of tears, I do.
‘I need to ask you something,’ I say.
‘Anything.’
‘That night. When it happened. Were you thinking about not calling the police?’
His gentle fingertips stroke an imaginary strand from my brow. ‘Where’s this come from?’
‘I had a dream and you were talking to Jackson, shouting at him, telling him you had to call the police because it was the only way I could move on. Did that happen?’
‘Yes.’
His arms move to my back, preventing me from stepping away from him.
‘Why? Why would you put yourself through all this if you could’ve cleaned it up and forgotten about it?’
‘Do you really need me to answer that?’
‘I think I do.’
He sighs as he finally takes a seat in the dark wood chairopposite mine and pulls my chair to the side of the table next to his. I sit down, letting my knee graze his as he unbuttons his grey blazer. He picks up my hand and entwines my fingers in his.
‘I’ve lived my whole life carrying around regrets and what ifs. I’ve told you before, my world is dark. I’ve screwed up; I’ve failed people. But you, you’re like this bright light. You’re smart, you’re sassy, you’re too damn gorgeous for your own good. You live in a different world to mine and I’m not going to mess up your life too. I refuse to let that happen.’
‘But it would mess up my life if I couldn’t be with you.’ I mumble the words, watching his fingers draw shapes around mine.
