I’d rehearsed what I was going to say a dozen times, but now I was pulling into Max’s still-very-large driveway, my carefully planned words scattered like leaves in the wind. The anger that had sustained me throughout the drive was giving way to something more complex: hurt, betrayal, but underneath it all, a desperate hope that somehow I’d misunderstood everything.
Eliza’s car was parked outside. At least the drive wasn’t in vain.
But then, disappointment sank through me. Was this where she’d come to discuss exactly how she was going to fuck me over?
I got out of the car, then walked the ten steps to the door at the slowest pace possible, my legs made of lead.
I rang the doorbell, but then heard gravel crunching behind me. When I turned, Eliza was there, a frown creasing her forehead. Her cheekbones could still slice bread, but there was a real sadness behind her ocean-deep gaze.
Despite my plight and the reasons for me being there, my body responded to her the way it always did. With an internal high five, and an immediate need to touch her. I physically yanked myself backwards to stop that happening.
“Poppy.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “What are you doing here?” She glanced left to right, as if expecting three of me.
“We need to talk.” I pulled out the email, and held it between us like a weapon. “About this.”
Her eyes dropped to the paper, and the colour drained from her cheeks.
Right at that moment, I so wished I didn’t have to do this.
“Where did you get that?”
This was the bit where I had no excuse. I hadn’t actually snooped, but I hadn’t exactlynotsnooped either. I gulped, then tried to find the words. Anger fizzed up my system. I was here now, and I’d seen the email. Did it matter how I found out?
“You’ve been distant since we got back from Switzerland. You know that.” I paused. “I wanted to get to the bottom of it. I decided to go round to your house, but you weren’t there. The builder invited me in, so I had a look around, just to see how it was going. I was curious, I guess. I wasn’t snooping. But then I went to your room and found this.”
She didn’t say anything, just stared at me, her mouth slightly open.
“Was it all a lie? Did you get me into bed just to make sure I played the game your way and got your dad the best price for the company?” My voice cracked as I spoke. Now I said it out loud, it was absolutely worse than I thought.
Right at that moment, the door opened, with Max behind it. The absolute last person I wanted to see right now. Then, seconds later, Margot walked up behind him.
When she saw me, her face fell. I expected a better poker game from her. Max, though: his game was perfect.
“Poppy! What a nice surprise. Come in, come in.”
I turned and stared at Eliza. I’d come to talk to her, to see what defence she had. But Max and Margot were all tied up in this, too. Should I get it all over in one go? Rip the plaster off right away? Unless I ran now, I didn’t really have a choice.
Eliza gestured for me to go inside, and against my better judgement, I did. But once the door was closed, I struggled to breathe.
“What brings you this way? It’s not exactly local.”
“This email.” I waved the piece of paper at Max.
He frowned just like his daughter had when she saw me, then held out his hand. “I don’t know what this is about, but can I see?”
But Eliza stepped between us. “I know this looks bad, but it’s not what it seems…”
“Isn’t it?” I waved the email again. “Because it looks like it is exactly what it seems to me. ‘Sweet-talk her.’ ‘Don’t let personal feelings cloud your judgment.’ ‘This is business’.” Each quote felt like swallowing glass. “You told me I wasn’t business. That Switzerland wasn’t business. But this? This makes it way harder to believe.”
“Switzerland was real. Everything between us has been real.” She looked me in the eye. “I couldn’t fake that if I tried.”
I heard a gasp from my left, then realised Margot didn’t know about us. Nobody did.
Well, they did now.
“Then why is this email even in existence? You’ve been tense and avoidant, and I kept thinking, ‘it’s not what it seems’. However, it turns out, it’s even worse.”
Margot stepped closer. “Poppy, what does the email say? And what’s this about you two? Are you together?”
