“Yeah. The most romantic trip of my life,” I say sarcastically.
“I think it’s great that you came anyway.”
“I nearly didn’t.”
“And that would’ve been a tragedy. You wouldn’t have seen this view, sipping a delicious cocktail in excellent company,” he points out, nodding at our absolutely divine surroundings.
“Again, is somebody else here that I don’t know about?”
He smirks, taking a sip, his eyes never leaving mine.
I sigh. “I just can’t believe I didn’t clue on, you know?” Because that’s the real crux of the issue. Two months on, the heartbreak, embarrassment and betrayal is subsiding. But in its wake I’m left with this sense of having let myself down for missing it, for not reacting the way I wanted to in the moment, for allowing him to hurt me. “I’m so fucking angry with myself.”
Gus shakes his head, putting his glass down. “How could you have known?”
I shrug. “Maybe I worked too hard. Maybe I wasn’t around enough. Maybe I just didn’t open my eyes and see what was happening right in front of me?”
He nods like it adds up. “I know how you feel,” he says. “I’ve been in the same position.”
“You have?” I don’t know why this surprises me. I guess I thought nobody would cheat on a celebrity. Clearly, I’m very wrong.
He makes a dismissive face like it’s nothing to him anymore. “My skin grew tough pretty quickly in this industry but I learnt one important thing.”
I lean forward, resting my chin in my hands. “And what’s that?”
“You can only control what you do. How you react. The things you say. The way you treat others. It’s the only part you own. I used to think people did things because of the way I acted. I’d be let down and immediately place that blame on myself.” He twists his lips. “I changed how I acted and they still let me down. Because it didn’t matterwhat I did. It was never about me, it was about them.”
“So you’re saying I shouldn’t blame myself?”
“I’m saying, if you’d done everything differently, it might’ve still ended the same way. I know it’s easier said than done, trust me I do, but assigning his actions to him and making him accountable in your own mind will help you.”
I swallow. “I’m plenty angry with him. I realised on the wedding day that even if it was only messages between him and his colleague; it was already betrayal. Especially with all the things he said about me, acting like I was ruining his life by being anuptight workaholicwho never had time for him. That I was impossible to be around. He never said any of this to my face. I felt blindsided. In the end, it didn’t matter if it had gone further than that. He’d already lost me. So, I never asked.”
Gus nods like he’s impressed.
“What?”
“I’m just impressed by you, that’s all.”
*
The room we’ve booked is up a narrow alleyway which is essentially a quarter of a mile of steps. My whole body wilts before I remember this is nothing compared to the challenges I’ve faced in my life and pull myself together. By the time we reach the building we’re both out of breath. Me more so. And my ankle feels like it’s made of sugar paper.
Obviously, I don’t voice any of this. I don’t want him to think I’m complaining.
Gus types the code into the box that releases the key,then we climb more steps. Four flights to be exact. He opens the door, and we find ourselves in a clean, cosy loft room that might be nice if it wasn’t the same temperature as the fiery pits of hell.
“Ah,” Gus says. “I just worked out why this was available at such short notice.”
“Is it because it rivals Dante’sInferno?”
“More like the fiery pits of Mount Doom.” Gus strides across the room, ducking to avoid banging his head on the low beamed ceilings. “Ooh there’s a fan.” He clicks it on, and we both stand there, dripping in sweat as it burps and hiccups to life.
“Turn it off, Popstar. The engine in that thing will make this room even hotter cause that isn’t doing sod all.”
“Give it a second. It might warm up.”
“Exactly. That’s what I’m afraid of.”
