Of course. She was the perfect candidate. I could see the posters now. She’d be smiling, ever so slightly, one perfect eyebrow arched, a necklace dangling from her fingertips. The tagline would say something likeshe’s not letting one bad break-up get her down.There’d be a crowd of men behind her – hell, probably women too, Dylan wouldn’t be too chicken to come out on TV – all vying to be with her.I’ve picked one for you,Murray would say,sign here,and she’d do it, and he’d hand her a cheque, and it would be the first season of the Romeo and Juliet franchise in history that I didn’t watch because it would hurt too much.
‘Then you’re royally fucked.’
It took me a second to realise what was happening. Who was speaking.
‘I don’t want it,’ Dylan said.
I’d been wrong. They hadn’t put her in white or silver. She didn’t look like a moon goddess. Instead, she was in a baby blue halter-neck dress, the fabric slightly iridescent, her hair pulled severely back from her face.
It was a dress I might have worn, but it didn’t suit her. Wardrobe hadn’t done right by her. Neither had make-up. She looked… tired.
She was still the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
I wasn’t conscious of standing up, but somehow, I was on my feet. ‘Dylan,’ I said.
Then I stopped. What could I say? What was there to say?
‘You’re here,’ I finished lamely.
She didn’t smile. The lines of her face were drawn, set, serious.
‘Mandie,’ she said. ‘Can I steal you for a second?’
‘No,’ Murray said. ‘Absolutely not. We had a contract, Dylan. You have obligations. I don’t have time for you—’
‘Murray, shut the fuck up,’ Lily said.
He wheeled on her. ‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Don’t start with me, Lily. Don’t you dare. I can’t even look at you.’
‘First of all, what do you think you’re doing right now?’ she said. ‘Secondly, are you really that far up your own arse?’
The sound he made in his throat was like a volcano about to erupt.
Dylan grabbed my wrist. ‘Come on,’ she whispered.
She pulled me outside. I couldn’t miss the fact that she let go of my hand at the first possible opportunity.
I paused on the verandah. ‘Dylan—’
‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘Not where they can interrupt us.’
She jumped down the stairs. I stayed where I was.
She looked up when she realised I wasn’t following. ‘Mandie, please.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘What?’ she said. ‘Why on earth would you be sorry?’
‘For running away,’ I whispered. ‘I didn’t even tell you why. You deserved more than that.’
‘Mandie, no!’
She vaulted back up the stairs, taking them two at a time. ‘Come here,’ she said, and wrapped her arms around me.
I wanted to clutch at her like a koala clinging to a tree. I wanted to hold on to her forever.
I gave myself a few seconds, and then I made myself pull away.
