Page 157

At her third attempt, in anger, I wound down the window of the car and flung the device into a passing bush.

Fuck.

I sat back, chest heaving, still in shock.

I tried closing my eyes, yes, but all I imagined was the woman I loved kissing her ex-husband in front of me.

While I believed her that it was non-consensual and an assault, what hurt more was that she betrayed me by letting him back into her life.

I asked the driver for a first-rate hotel recommendation, and he suggested The Peninsula.

‘OK, kindly take me to it.’

Moving accommodation was the best way to avoid seeing her again, at least for now.

When we got to the new hotel, I pulled out my wallet and paid the cabby $100, even though the app on my discarded phone would have compensated him too.

It was worth it.

‘Thank you, man,’ I muttered as I exited the ride.

I strode into the lobby and booked a grand luxury suite.

‘Please send up a bottle of 20-year-old Macallan as well,’ I asked the red-headed concierge, whose name tag read Theresa.

She seemed to recognize me, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

I gave her a wan smile and signed the hotel notebook to her delight.

I left Theresa beaming and followed the bellhop upstairs with my case.

Settling into my room, I undressed and hit the shower.

I turned on the hot water and let it beat my back.

Gritting my teeth at the scorching temperature, I put my face into it, needing the heat as I trembled, still reeling from shock.

Eventually, I soaped up, rinsed, dried off, and pulled on a tee and shorts.

Heading to the expansive living area, I first called Mason from the room phone, recalling his number from memory.

‘Mate, I’ve moved to The Peninsula,’ I said. ‘I might have lost my mobile. Can you please get one of the label execs to buy me a replacement and cancel the old one? I also need a new number, and all my old contacts synced. It’s all on iCloud.’

Mason and his wife Nari had access to all of Six Sinners’ iCloud accounts and data, and we all trusted the couple with safeguarding our private shit.

‘Will do, but you OK, mate?’ Mason asked, concern lacing his voice.

‘I’m good,’ I lied.

I was unwilling to share, burning with the shame of yet another failed run with Ana.

The whiskey arrived alongside a variety of gourmet snacks.

I ignored the food, cracked the seal on the bottle, and took it with me outside.

I stepped onto the stone terrace of the hotel room, sank into an outdoor chair, and drank hard straight from the bottle, blinking back tears that burned.

Fuck, I’d been stupid.