Zayn sighs and drags a frustrated hand through his hair.
“Monica was… convenient,” he admits reluctantly. “I came back to Melbourne and made myself believe it wasn’t for you, even though I only applied at Martin& Klein in Perth knowing they had a Melbourne branch. I worked my ass off, made a name for myself and when I was offered a position in Melbourne I was adamant I was only taking it because there were better opportunities here. You weremarried and I had to move the fuck on.” He stands and paces over to the glass wall that overlooks the city, giving me his back. His black silhouette a beautiful vision against the colourful lights.
“Monica works at the firm and she came on to me one night. I’d had a few too many drinks at a work dinner. I gave her the usual one night spiel and she accepted it. We slept together.”
A cold fist creeps into my chest and squeezes around my most vital organ.
“Then one night became two, then three, then we fell into a pattern of leaving work events together. Never arriving together, though. I always insisted it was purely physical, and she never pushed for more.”
He pauses. “Just because I slept with her more than once doesn’t mean we are in a relationship. We are not. I feel nothing romantic towards her and she knows that.”
I swallow down the horror that I’m sure is carved into my face. I have no right to feel this, of course. I was married, for Christ’s sake. Zayn had every right to do whatever and whoever he pleased.
Zayn turns to face me, his face cloaked in shadow. “I told you I found you on that website by chance. You were a link sent to me for a bachelor party, a friend trying to organiseentertainmentfor the evening. I had all but stopped looking for you by then. When I saw your profile I thought perhaps Percy had his information wrong and maybe you weren’t married after all. Regardless, I tried to convince myself I didn’t care that you were selling yourself, when in reality, I wasfucking furious.”
He stalks towards me and I tuck my knees into my chest. Having his thoughts splayed out before me after months,heck,yearsof speculating is as much gratifying as it is terrifying.
“I had no idea what I was expecting going into that hotel room. I thought you would recognise me and I could get some kind of closure that I desperately needed. I hoped, deep down, that you would fall into my arms and the last ten years would just fucking disappear. But then you didn’t recognise me. And you wanted to fuck me. And I was angry, but too desperate to touch you again that I went along with it knowing it would be my undoing, and all the while you were none the wiser.”
He stops before his thighs can graze against me. His chin lowers, his jaw ticking with remembered fury.
“Since then I haven’t been able to stay away from you. Some would call you walking into my office that day a stroke of luck. I call it fate.” He lifts a hand and grazes his fingertips over my cheek.
“Ask me why I came back, Gianna.”
I’m finally ready to ask, and he’s finally ready to answer me.
“Why did you come back?” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“For you.”
My chest threatens to burst open and spill my heart all over his soft white sheets. This is everything I’ve ever wanted since I was sixteen years old.
“So no, Gianna. I won’t be going to find another woman to have my babies,” he says softly, cupping my jaw. “All I want is you. All I’ve ever wanted is you. And if it’s only ever just me and you, then that’s okay with me. I never wanted to share you anyway.”
27
TEN YEARS EARLIER
Icrack my locker open at the same time a loud chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ starts from somewhere behind me. Balloons spill out of my locker, one bumping into my face before I flap it out of the way with a laugh.
“Anna, what the heck?”
Still singing, she jumps out from her hiding space behind a pillar and wraps her arms around me.
“Happy birthdayyyyyyy to youuuuu,” she finishes with a beam before letting me go and holding me at arm’s distance. “You don’t look a day over sixteen.”
I chuckle and release myself, turning back to my locker to fish out the rest of the balloons to get to my books. “I haven’t been seventeen for a whole day yet!”
“Precisely. Now hurry up and get your books or we’ll be late for Chem.” Anna picks up her own bag and swings it over her shoulder. “What took you so long, anyway? I’ve been hiding here like an idiot for the last forty-five minutes!”
“My dad made me birthday pancakes. It’s tradition. The only time Mum lets him in the kitchen.” I laugh, smiling at the memory of Dad flipping pancakes over the stove thismorning like a pro. He’s made me pancakes for breakfast for as long as I can remember, and it’s always the best part of my birthday.
I grab what I need and am about to slam my locker shut when I notice a small, scribbled note that looks like it was slipped through the crack of the door.
Meet me at our spot for lunch, birthday girl.
My heart soars at the familiar scrawl.
