He wouldn’t meet my gaze as he pondered his next words. His jaw was clenched, like he was biting back words, and it killed me waiting for him to speak.
‘I’ve just come to realise we’re not right for each other,’ he said as if he’d rehearsed it, which made it hurt even more.
‘You don’t mean that,’ I said, a sob building in my throat, making it difficult to speak. ‘I don’t know what’s made you change your mind, but I know you don’t mean that.’
‘I’m sorry, Poppy, but I do.’
I stared at his face and couldn’t fathom how we’d ended up here. Just the night before we’d FaceTimed, and everything had been fine. Sure, I was quiet, still worrying about Ma, but he’d been happy.
How could everything have changed in an instant?
‘Don’t do this, please, Salman.’ I hated how weak I sounded. How the crack in my voice was so loud and childish. ‘Whatever it is, we can fix it.’
He just shook his head wordlessly.
‘So, this is it? We’re just, what, done?’ I asked sharply.
‘Yes,’ he said, the word thick in his throat. ‘We’re done.’
‘Fine, if that’s what you want,’ I shouted as I turned and walked away, tears streaming down my face as my heart splintered. I didn’t turn back even though my chest was caving in and all I wanted was for him to hold me.
Not that he would. He didn’t want me any more.
It’s unbearable being this close to him now, our history tugging us towards each other, my memory full of all the pranks he’d play to elicit a laugh from me, and how my knees would buckle at the sight of his smile. The way I felt the noise in my head quiet when he held me.
‘Just leave me alone.’ I sidestep him and practically run backto my desk, hoping that nobody can tell how quickly my heart is beating.
How can he be acting like nothing has changed? I know it’s been six months, but did our relationship mean absolutely nothing to him?
Get it together,I tell myself as I scratch my elbow, which is experiencing a psoriasis flare-up. On top of everything, now my body is against me too. I’m getting settled back at my desk, slathering cream on my arms, when Sadia walks in, her voice chirpy and like a ray of sunshine. ‘Morning!’
I’ve never been a morning person but with Sadia as my boss, I might just turn into one.
‘Oh, I need to give this back to you,’ I say to her as I rifle through my bag, finding the cashmere jumper she lent me yesterday and holding it out to her. ‘Thank you again. I brought some extra clothes, so hopefully I won’t have to borrow it again. Though my friends have dubbed me a walking liability, so I make no promises.’
Sadia lets out a gentle laugh as she accepts the clothing. ‘Not a problem, my dear.’ She looks at her wristwatch and kisses her teeth. ‘Shoot, I’ve got a meeting in less than five minutes and I was hoping to make myself a cuppa before it.’
‘I can do it,’ I offer.
‘Are you sure? It would be great if you coul—’
‘On it!’ I spring into action. I want to show Sadia how capable I am after the disaster that was yesterday. ‘How do you take it?’
‘A drop of milk with two sugars, and you can just leave the bag in there, please.’
‘Wonderful. I’ll have it with you in a few minutes.’
She’s about to go into her office when she turns around. ‘Oh! I’m not sure if you’ve seen it, but I’ve left a pack of client profiles on yours and Salman’s desks that I’d like you to read over this morning. I was hoping to brief you together but trafficwas a nightmare this morning so that will have to wait. Do you mind passing on the message to Salman? We’ll run through the profiles this afternoon for a task I’d like you both to get on with.’
I head back to the kitchen, where Salman is chatting to some people from the marketing department. They’re all laughing at something he’s saying and I’m jealous for a moment. How has he managed to ingratiate himself with them so quickly?
‘You good?’ he asks when he sees me approaching, shifting his attention to me. He was always a natural at that – making you feel like the most important person in any room. Well, I’m not falling for it any more.
‘Sadia wants us back at our desks,’ I tell him, holding my head high as if it’s beneath me to have to come and collect him like this. ‘She’s left some packs for us to read through in preparation for a meeting with her later this afternoon.’ I flick the switch for the kettle, expecting him to leave, but he just slides along the counter towards me. ‘I need to make her tea first, but feel free to grab your stuff and head over.’
‘You want me to make it?’ he asks after the kettle has stopped whistling, his eyes laser-focused on me as I pour the boiling water into a mug.
‘I know how to make a cup of tea, Salman.’ I pop a teabag into the mug and watch the colour change.
