“God, I’m a fucking idiot,” he murmured, looking around him in disbelief. “Here you are, minutes from the altar, and I’m getting upset over someone else entirely.”
That was…a very good point. One I shouldn’t question, but common sense had left the building a long time ago. “Why are you more upset over Xander than Kate? Is it because he’s a man?”
“No.” Dom sighed, raking his fingers through his hairagain. His hand was still shaking. “It’s because when you talk about Kate, there’s no life there. She’s not a threat to me because she doesn’t truly know you. The same can’t be said about this Xander bloke.”
I should’ve been defending my fiancée. Telling Dom he was wrong. Better yet, I should never have been having this conversation in the first place.
But that wasn’t what I did.
“Xander’s my friend. I won’t lie and say he’s not important to me—he is. He’s one of the most important people in my life and he’s earned that place a hundred times over.”
Dom’s gaze shuttered. “So you can forgive some people for signing up but not others. Interesting.”
My spine stiffened. Just when I thought we were getting somewhere, Dom had to throw that in my face. It made me throw a hit straight back. “You’re right. The two of you are very similar. But you want to know the difference?”
“What?”
“Xander didn’t leaveand never contact me again,” I said bluntly. “That’s why he’s still in my life and you’re not. Loyalty matters, Dom, and you showed exactly where yours lay a long time ago.”
9
Ryan
The next day passed in a fog of meetings. Vocabulary that had once been foreign to me slipped out of my mouth with ease.Margins. Dividends. Treaty relief.CGT. OECD. VAT. SDLT.Random letters that dictated how my day would go.
It was so different from the rhetoric I’d once used.Form. Proportion. Hatching. Contour.
It was another marker of how much I’d changed. The person I’d made myself into didn’t bother with flights of fancy. Facts, statistics, numbers. That was what made me happy now.
Or at least, as close to happy as I could hope for.
The headache that had sent me to the gym hadn’t abated. It had gradually got worse, calling in reinforcements in the form of aching muscles, a sore throat, and a cough that had my colleagues side-eyeing me with alarm.
Darkness had well and truly fallen when I trudged up the stairs to my flat.Working this late into the evening came with the territory. Usually, I took it in stride.
Tonight though, I felt the exhaustion all the way to my bones. Shitty clients, squabbling co-workers, urgent reportsthat had to be signed off immediately, all of it had been dumped in my lap today. Coupled with how shitty I felt, it was almost enough to make me wish I’d chosen a different career path.
Almost.
I let myself into my flat and dropped my stuff on the floor. Normally I’d hang it all up, but I honestly couldn’t be fucked. It’d match the state of the rest of my flat, which was, quite frankly, appalling. I didn’t care. Wasn’t like anyone would be here to see it. I’d messaged Kate earlier to tell her I was sick. Her response had sent my mood plummeting further.
KATE
Oh, poor baby! Wish I could come and look after you but I have this crazy deadline. Will you be okay?
Of course, I’d replied that I would be. I was a grown-ass adult. I didn’t need to be coddled or looked after.
Even if I kind of wanted to be.
I tried not to look at the mess as I made my way further in. Every surface was littered with dishes I hadn’t had the energy to get to, and my carpet was days past needing a hoover. The thought of tackling any of it made me want to weep.
I shuffled through to the kitchen and opened my fridge to glare at the sparse contents. Fuck. There was literally nothing here that could make anything close to a meal.
My stomach grumbled pointedly. I just wanted to eat, take some medicine, and fall face-first into my bed, but now I was going to have to go out again.
Every muscle protested at the thought.
I pressed my face against the fridge door, letting the cold soothe my aching head. God, being sick sucked. Fuckfood, I should just go and collapse in bed. But even that didn’t appeal given the fever I’d had last night. I knew without checking that my sheets would be sweat-soaked and gross.
