“I tried to call you. I texted. You weren’t responding.” He shrugs. “You didn’t give me another option.”
I sigh. “Clearly I didn’t want to talk to you.”
“Man, ok…” he says, blowing out a breath. He gets up from his chair. Why does he seem so much bigger in my mum’s tiny kitchen? I have this forbidden urge to rush over to him in his shirt and work trousers, clearly having come here straight from the office, and hold him again. I miss his heat. I miss the feel of his rigid stomach and chest against my body. I miss his scent. “If that’s really how you feel then I’ll just leave. But you should know that I quit this morning, too. I’ll be filing a case against Michael as well.”
“Wait,” I say as he’s shrugging into his jacket. Then I close my eyes, biting my lip. “No. Yeah, you should go.”
James takes a deep breath. When I look at his face again it’s torn as if he’s in physical pain being this close to me. “Felicity,” he says softly, his eyes flitting from my eyes to the floor as if he can’t decide where to look. Is he nervous? “Did I do something to hurt you?”
I can’t help it; the truth of the last few days has been sitting heavy on a branch in my mind and now it snaps.
“You knew the whole time, didn’t you? You knew you were getting the director position. And I was your final hurdle, right?”
James’ eyes widen. He presses his lips into a firm line as he dips his chin in a nod. “Yeah, I knew. And yeah, I chose not to tell you.”
“Why?!”
“We were abandoned in Scotland. I didn’t think it would help either of us by telling you. I knew you had your heart set on the director role. Hell, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. And I honestly wasn’t even sure if I was that interested. I told Michael I was on the fence about it, but he forged on regardless. But that was before Scotland. Before everything that happened, I swear. I don’t know what he was playing at yesterday, but he ambushed me. I didn’t know what to do in the moment. You weren’t exactly talking to me. We didn’t have a plan.”
I close my eyes, praying the prickling sensation behind my eyes will fade. Why am I crying again? I swore I wouldn’t do this in front of this man. He moves closer, his footsteps clicking on the tiled floor. He’s wearing work shoes; I can tell by the sound. His breathing is calm. I wish mine was. I sense it getting more rapid by the second.
Gloatman is here. In my mum’s kitchen.
“Please, believe me,” he says, his voice closer now, desperate. “Felicity. I quit. As soon as I found out you had, I realised there was nothing keeping me there.”
“You… We…Thingshappened between us. You can’t just skip past that. You kept things from me and still let it happen.”
He sighs, rubbing his face in his hands.
“I promise it wasn’t like that. I didn’t do that to play into Michael’s game. I would never betray you like that.”
“What about the money? Don’t you want the director’s pay?” I ask, and I inhale sharply when I realise how shuddery my voice sounds.
I feel a finger push some of my windswept hair back behind my ear. It’s hot and soft and gentle.
“Last week you helped me see that money is something toxic I’ve been chasing. It’s a vice. I used to snap someone’s hand off for a shift, a paper round or any opportunity to bring in some cash. It’s as if it’s become a part of me. I can’t guarantee I won’t still do that, but I need to find value in other things.
“I shouldn’t’ve even gone to Scotland. I missed meeting my nephew the day he was born. I missed a really crucial thing that had so much more value than money. I sort of knew that then, but now when I think about it, it physically pains me.”
I open my eyes; a treacherous tear runs down my cheek. I swipe it away. James is watching me closely, and staring back at him, I realise we maybe know each other better than we thought we did. I believe he never set out to hurt me. I believe that as things between us shifted rapidly he probably didn’t know how to tell me but that doesn’t make it right.
There’s still a part of me who doubts us.
“But it won’t work,” I say quietly.
He nods. “I know you think that.”
“You don’t?”
He laughs gently. “Well, I don’t think about things as practically as you do. I just do the things I fancy and let the consequences unfold. I think that’s why you find me so infuriating, isn’t it? All my unplanned, random ideas?”
“Like coming here?” I practically squeak at this point.
James shakes his head. “No. I planned this, at least since this morning, so it doesn’t count. I asked Michael if he knew where you’d gone. You said you left in your message, but I thought you were being facetious. As in you’d just left the building and it was none of my business. But then he said you’d quit, and I laughed. And I couldn’t stop smiling.My god, she’s left, I kept thinking.She’s free of this bullshit. Then I had a problem. I realised in that moment that annoying you was the only thing I got out of that job – except the money, that is.”
I laugh as more lazy tears betray me. “You’re such a dick.”
“You still want me to go?” He pauses for a moment. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. Please know I never intended to. I’d never consciously do anything to hurt you.”
