The teenager that lived inside me wanted to tell him no and stomp off, but then I knew I’d be left wondering and I didn’t want that. I’d had that before. Owen and what I felt for him was worth more than sitting at home moping around and torturing myself with all the reasons why he might’ve lied. “Yes,” I said. “I think I deserve an explanation.”
“You do. Follow me to the office?” He reached for my hand but I pulled it away, following him a few footsteps behind as we pushed through the people. There was a double door at the bottom of the cookery aisle. He pressed the keypad and held the door open for me, the sound of Vinny and Amber’s voices dimming into the background completely.
“Which room?”
“I have an office on the left.”
He led the way, the corridor dotted with rolled up posters for displays and the odd pile of books. If it had been under different circumstances, I would’ve stopped to have looked more closely.
“This room here,” Owen said, unlocking a door with his key. He pushed the door open for me to go in first. I took two steps inside and stopped dead, Owen walking straight into the back of me.
“For the love of all things that are holy and sacred…” he said, surprising me at how he managed to get so many words out given the scene that was in front of us, over what was probably his desk.
Dot and Dave had clearly resolved their differences and were making up for lost time. She was laid back on the desk and Dave was over her, naked from the waist down. The rest I didn’t take notice of, backing out of the room back into the corridor, where Owen was resting against the wall, covering his face with his hands.
I wanted to touch him, to reassure him and then laugh with him, because given everything we’d done over the last few weeks; the blind dates, the criticism of Dave which Owen had hated, the mediation—all of this had ended in what he’d wanted, his mum and Dave reconciling.
He moved his hands and looked at me. “Let’s use this room instead and never think about what we’ve just seen.”
Chapter Nineteen
Owen
I had seen Payton already,standing in the crowd like she had a spotlight on her. She was beautiful and she was all mine. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind of getting to know each other, taking chances and changing routines; I hadn’t experienced this before and she’d become a drug I wanted to stay addicted to. Tonight had a special feel to it. Even though it was the first time Amber had been back around London for weeks, it didn’t feel as if it was going to be about her.
Amber. I hadn’t explained to Payton about Amber. It hadn’t been needed as there wasn’t anything to say. I watched Payton’s face as Amber walked onto the stage, her eyes questioning, her expression unsure and I realised I might’ve just fucked a lot up.
“It’s good to be able to sing sometimes. I’d just like to thank the owner and brilliant mind behind Cases, Owen, who just happens to be my ex-husband, although we were better friends than anything else. Here’s to your future happiness, Owen.” Amber said, smiling around at me and Vinny. Vinny started to play a familiar riff and the crowd started to applaud and call, but my attention was on Payton and the hurt that had painted her face.
Shit. Shit.Shit
I’d never told her Amber and I had been married. It was the one thing she didn’t know and this would kill her.
The crowd parted as I walked after her, speeding up my steps so I could get to the door at the same time as her and stop her from leaving.
“Payton!” I said as she reached the emergency exit. “Payton, stop. Please.”
She turned around to face me, disappointment in her eyes and I felt like the biggest bastard the world had ever created. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice was level, as if she’d expected this all along, because the men she picked were always let-downs.
“Because we were never really married. I understand why you’re mad right now because I haven’t told you something that should be massive. Can I have a chance to explain?” I knew there was no point begging and my reasons for not having told her were genuine: it didn’t matter that Amber and I had signed a bit of paper in front of two witnesses we’d pulled off the street. I shouldn’t have been so stupid. It would matter to Payton that she knew.
“Yes,” she said. “I think I deserve an explanation.”
“You do. Follow me to the office?” I said, reaching for her hand but she didn’t take it. My chest felt as if a nest of wasps had erupted inside me and stung. She followed me to the door that led to the back rooms we used for stock, meetings and as staff rooms. There was an office that was used by the manager and my mum when needed, as well as myself, but it was kept locked. I fumbled with the key, my hands shaking with sheer panic at the possibility of this being the end of us, of me and Payton, and more than anything, I didn’t want that to happen.
I opened the door, letting Payton in first and then saw a scene that I had managed to avoid of all of my thirty-two years so far: my mum and Dave on my desk and they weren’t working. I backed out into the corridor and covered my face, hoping that a few seconds of seeing nothing would forever erase the image from my memory.
The door closed and I was aware of Payton standing facing me. All I wanted at that moment was her in my arms and to hear her laughing at what we’d just seen. I moved my hands away and saw her, her beautiful face sad and hurt and all the things I never wanted to make her feel. “Let’s use this room instead and never think about what we’ve just seen,” I said, opening the door to a stock room.
She followed me in, sitting down on one of the piles of boxes. “Why didn’t you tell me you have an ex-wife?”
“Because I never thought to,” I said. She looked at me disbelievingly. “Amber and I were together for three years. We were students together, our relationship worked because we were both so busy we didn’t have time to date and neither of us questioned the other about having to cancel dates or being home late as we were both in the same position. We got married on a whim without telling anyone. I think at that point we knew there was no future as we were just friends who lived together but there was a sense of loyalty. The day after we got married Amber flew to America to attend a conference for a week. When she got back she told me she’d had an affair and getting married wasn’t the right thing to do.”
Payton looked white, her hands clenched together. “So what did you do?”
I shrugged, leaning against the shelves we kept stock. “I agreed. I wasn’t in love with her. I think I knew that before we got married. We got an annulment rather than a divorce. So yes, Amber is my ex-wife but we didn’t ever live together as husband and wife. When she got home from America and told me, she moved out immediately.”
“How often do you see her?”
