Me:I’ll tell you everything when I get there. Can I come now?
Kim:Of course. You need me to pick you up?
Me:No, I’ll walk, it’s okay
Kim:All right, see you in a bit. Love you x
I tuck the phone in the back of my jeans, then go into the bathroom and start throwing bottles and all my makeup and medication into a washbag.
When I’m done, I lug the case downstairs, then open it again and throw in a few bits from the living room—my slippers, my favorite gray Oodie with cat ears on the hood, and all my chargers.
I look around. I can’t see any other necessities.
The case is a little over half full. Pretty much my whole life, in one bag.
Swallowing hard, I zip it up. It’s not true, of course. There are many items here that belong to the two of us—furniture we bought together, cushions and paintings, crockery in the kitchen, the bedding and towels. The detritus of a relationship. I don’t need or want it, and I go out, leaving the house how I found it, and close the door behind me.
Outside, it’s clouded over, and as I start walking, pulling the case behind me, I feel the first spit of rain on my face. Yeah, that figures. Imagine my surprise.
My jacket is in the case, but I can’t be bothered to open it and get it out. It’s not cold, so I just lift my face to the sky and let the drops land on my skin.
Kim and Simon’s place is only ten minutes away along a winding country road that leads inland toward the forest, but by the time I arrive it’s raining hard and I’m completely soaked. They live in a long,low place on a half-acre of land with a neat lawn, a perfect garden for the children she hasn’t yet had.
I knock on the door, and she opens it almost immediately, so she must have seen me approaching.
“You idiot,” she says. “Told you I should have picked you up.” Her words don’t reflect her obvious worry, and she pulls me into her arms, unmindful of my wet clothing.
I hug her, tears pricking my eyes. She’s seven years older than me, but our whole family is close. She’s been through a lot, but she’s always been there for me.
“Come on,” she says eventually, her voice husky. “Let’s get you warm and dry, and I’ll make coffee.”
“I’m so sorry to put on you like this.” I walk past her, pulling the case over the step.
“Down to the blue bedroom,” she says, and so I walk along the hallway past the living and dining area to the other end of the house and go into the bedroom with the blue bedding. Jude and I have stayed here a few times when they’ve had dinner parties.
She takes a large fluffy towel out of the bathroom and brings it in. “Get changed,” she says briskly. “Have you eaten this morning?”
“No…”
“I’ll ask Si to put some toast on.” She walks away before I can protest that I’m not hungry.
I push the door closed, take the case over to the window, lie it down, and unzip it. Slowly, I pull out a pair of yoga pants and a dry tee and change into them, my movements lethargic. All my energy seems to have gone.
When I’m done, I sit on the bed and pick up my phone.
There are no notifications. Nothing from Jude, and nothing from Archer. I’m not surprised. They’re both going to wait to contact me for different reasons.
For the first time, I let myself think about what happened last night. I broke up with my boyfriend. And I slept with Archer.
A flush creeps up my neck into my face as I remember moving toward him on the sofa and initiating contact. I can’t claim to be drunk. I knew perfectly well what I was doing. But the alcohol did loosen me up a little, I suppose, and it let loose the desires I’d kept hidden for so long.
He tried so hard to be honorable and not take advantage of me in my vulnerable state. Was I right to push past his barriers and force him to ignore his principles?
My fingers rise automatically to my lips as I remember the way he took so long to kiss me all over. The delight he took in bringing me to orgasm. How a switch seemed to flip and suddenly the temperature skyrocketed when he slid inside me. The way he was gentle but oh, so passionate. And how it felt to cuddle up to him afterwards and sleep next to him all night, safe in his arms.
There’s always love involved… even though it might not look like it for a few minutes, he said. My lips curve up beneath my fingers. I should regret it, but I don’t, not for a second. I needed it, and I loved every moment. I’m so glad we slept together, no matter what happens next.
So… whatdoeshappen next? I lower my hand, hovering my fingers over the phone. I feel bad for what happened this morning, the way Jude turned up before Archer and I had a chance to talk about last night. I know him well enough to be sure he’s anxious about having lost control. I caught the end of his conversation with Jude when I walked into the room. …if you’re going to throw it back in my face, well, screw you. It was such an un-Archer like thing to say that it shocked me. Jude must have dismissed his platitudes, which would no doubt have made Archer furious, because he was trying to put aside his own feelings and comfort his best friend.
