“To work? Not sure. Soon.”
“No, to him?”
“Who?”
“Filming? Studio?” She waved her finger around in obvious irritation.
“I left. I told you.”
“Bad move.”
“No, Amara. Good move. For my sanity.”
She laughed. Tapped her teaspoon against her cup.
“Sanity is underrated. Smiles are good. I saw some good smiles.”
“None of them were mine, I can assure you.”
“I don’t believe that.” She scrunched up her nose. “And remember, Peter. I have known you for a very long time.”
“I know,” I said sternly. “And on that note? End of today’s gossip.”
“I see.” She stood herself up, elegantly swishing her long scarf back into place. The soft movement of fabric against the obvious scowl on her face. I knew her. As she knew me.
“Dinner is in the oven. I’ll pass you a plate over the fence at six sharp. Unless you prefer to come eat at the table like civilised people.”
“Fence is fine,” I said flatly.
“Return the plate.”
“I always do.”
She slowly walked over to the front door. Opened it and turned around in the doorway, once again pinning me down with her stare.
Expecting me to talk when I had no words left to say. I never did. Because they’d all left me five years ago when my life had changed forever.
“And Peter?”
“Yes?”
“Life changes. We just have to learn to change with it.”
Lies. All lies.
Chapter 16
Oliver
This wasn’t the first time. Wouldn’t be the last, but it still didn’t make any of it any easier. Life tended to suck, and when it did? You could either crumble or…
I didn’t know what to call it, but it had now been a week. One whole fucking week of sitting on the floor in my cold, bare flat, staring at the walls like the obvious loser I was.
Me. Oliver Jacobs. Idiot of the century. The guy who had no doubt embarrassed himself on some bloody TV show that he was now sitting here praying that nobody would watch.
Apart from the fact that…yeah. I was that guy. The guy who had obsessively stalked social media and all the accounts and read every single comment on theSave the Datewebsite to the point that my brain had started to believe the hype. My fragile memories of the past weeks mixing with things that were obviously not real.
And the worst thing? The worst thing of all?
