“You don’t need to assume anything, Callum. It really won’t be any of your business.” I headed in the direction of my room, the wall signs suggesting that I was at the end of a corridor.
I heard Callum’s laugh, his footsteps growing fainter as I hurried and he took his time.
Just like it had always been.
* * *
My suite was huge.The designer had tried to keep it understated but that only succeeded in making it seem even more lush. White marble, silver touches, furniture that would be found in palaces.
The bathroom was something from a film, one about royalty or millionaires and my bones ached to shower off the grim of the journey then sink into the bath. I stripped, casting clothes wherever, avoiding my reflection in the mirror. I’d lost weight, I was pale, my eyes looked sunken. I didn’t need reminding of that.
The water from the shower hit me hard, pelting my skin with heavy streams. I stood under there, blanking out Matt and Callum and weeks away from home, weeks when I’d feel guilty for not being there and living a life that was normal.
My head became full of the sounds of the water, the scent of the shower, the sensation of the hard fall of the water against my skin. Glorious pressure. Every sense taken care of.
For moments I forgot where I was and what I had to do. I forgot about Matt and a relationship I didn’t want to be in. I forgot who I was and where I’d been. I just was. I was in the moment.
The water didn’t run cold. No one knocked on my door or made a sound that signified I had to get out of the shower and be human. I simply recalibrated enough to be able to turn off the shower and run a bath, finding some scented bath salts that I knew I’d kill for in a few days when I’d been up to my elbows in Africa, with sores on my feet and welts on my arms.
I had to finish things with Matt.
For my own sanity as well as his. If I let this drag on for another few weeks, I’d be dreading going home. And it wasn’t fair to him.
I paused the water and went to grab my phone. Five missed calls; four from him and one from my parents – probably because he’d called them.
I rang them back first and got my mother’s telephone voice as she answered.
“Four-oh-two-two.”
It didn’t matter how many times I’d told her not to confirm her telephone number, she still did. Habit. Just like the way she over did her vowels.
“You rang, mum. I’m okay. Landed about an hour or so ago.”
She sighed. “You need to phone Matthew. He’s worried sick about you – thinks you’ve been arrested at the airport.”
“Is that what he phoned saying?”
She sighed, which meant yes.
“Mum, he’s pissed off that I haven’t spoken to him.”
“Why wouldn’t you speak to him? You need to speak to him.”
“I’m going to. I just needed you to know I was okay first because I knew he would’ve worried you. I’m calling things off with him.”
There was silence, a silence I expected.
“Shouldn’t you do it in person? Maybe after you’ve been home for this big dinner in a couple of weeks?”
I stopped myself from laughing. “Mum, I can’t go home for that dinner. It’s a thirty-hour round trip and that’s without the stop-overs.”
“But Matt…”
“Wants someone who just wants him. And that’s not me. I’m calling him to let him know. I don’t doubt he’ll have my replacement in a couple of weeks. He’s a good catch.”
“Exactly, Wren. He’s the sort of man you should be thinking about settling down with.”
“I’m not thinking about settling down. I don’t want to. Not yet.” It was a line I’d said many time in the last two or three years. She wasn’t trying to force me to settle with someone: she just wanted me to be happy and she didn’t understand that finding a man wouldn’t necessarily fix it.
