Kit
I lie on my bed, listening to the ringing quiet of my hotel room, wondering what to do with myself today. I’ve already hit a lot of the recommended sights in Japan over the last couple of weeks and while I’ve been able to appreciate the magnificence of them, I’ve not connected with the country in the same way I did when I was with Chloe.
Or with any of the other people I’ve met on my travels.
I finally heard back from Elliot though, which was a massive fucking relief. Apparently he’s been keeping his head down at his Vanaheim Grand hotel in Saint Lucia. Not that he gave much away about what he’s been up to there and why he’s been ghosting me. All I got in reply to my question about whether he’s having woman trouble was:
Yeah. It’s all a bit complicated and a proper head-fuck if I’m honest. I’m okay. Kinda. Spun out. I’ve got some shit to work through, but it’s going to be okay. Don’t worry about me, dude.
So that’s enigmatic of him.
Honestly, it didn’t really help with my worry, but at least he’s back in contact. He knows I’ve got his back, no matter what, so hopefully if I can be of any assistance he’ll let me know.
It sounds as if Raffa’s having a crisis of his own right now too, which is very unlike him. I’m poised for hearing all about this wedding of his step-brother’s that he was reluctantly going to. I know he’d arranged for it to be held, gratis, at the last minute at the Vanaheim Grand in the Maldives but I don’t know who he got to be his ‘unsuitable’ date for it. I guess I’ll hear all the gory details in due course when he next gets in touch.
On the theme of people getting in touch, I pick up my phone to check whether Chloe’s sent me a message yet.
Nope.
Radio silence.
So I log in to my bank accounts and stare at the long strings of numbers that usually give me such a thrill.
Nothing. They mean absolutely nothing to me right now. Just a big load of zeros.
Logging off, I toss my phone onto the bedside table and resume my staring up at the ceiling, aware of an annoying tension in my throat.
I try to swallow past it, but it won’t go away.
There’s a heavy ache in my chest too.
And my eyes keep watering.
I fucking miss her.
16
ONE MONTH LATER
Chloe
It’s been a tough few weeks since I got back from Japan.
I’ve spent a lot of time disentangling myself from the things I’d shared with Adrian and rebuilding my life into a different shape, which has been painful, but necessary.
I’ve needed this time to pull the ragged edges of my life back together and start to feel more whole again.
But I’m aware there’s still a gap left. And that it’s Kit shaped.
Every day, since I walked out on him, I’ve checked his social media, expecting to see pictures of him with Katya. But every day there’s been no sign of her on any of his feeds. I guess she’s still busy working on her new modelling campaign.
When he has posted, he’s mostly put up things about a place he’s visiting in Japan, looking like he’s having a blast.
He’s not posted for a couple of weeks now though.
It makes me wonder whether he’s met someone new. He didn’t seem to use social media at all when he was with me. I know. I’ve checked.
Yesterday, in a moment of weakness, I actually went to look up his number on my phone, just to see his name, and was confused to find it wasn’t in my list of contacts. It took me a minute of scrolling up and down to find him. I knew immediately it was his number when I saw he’d chosenBest Exfor his pseudonym.
