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It was dark when she finally lifted her head. The only light came from the glow of the distant streetlights. She felt Bailey sigh, his body shuddering against hers. Taking a deep breath, she stood and stared into the distance while Bailey yawned and stretched out beside her. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket. It was her mother.

Molly: Almost here? X

Whatever had just happened, she needed to put it on the back burner. She needed to focus. Tonight was her mother’s biggest and most important night of the year. She had to get herself together and show up.

In the bathroom, Hazel inspected her face. Red. Puffy. Stained with tears. She remembered the sheet mask she’d purchased in preparation for that night. She grabbed it, rushed to the kitchen and threw it in the freezer.

In the shower, she lay on the tiled floor and let the hot water cover her body. She tried not to cry again as she thought of Sam, working on this room. Sitting up, she let the water cascade over her. She needed to turn the water off, and get out of the shower but she couldn’t seem to gather the courage. Hazel just wanted to lie right where she was and cry for the foreseeable future. She thought of her mother, waiting at the gallery for her exhibition to start. She couldn’t let her mum down. She had to get herself together. A plan always helped.

Hazel would stand up, turn the water off and step out of the shower. She’d brush her wet hair, twist it into a sleek bun and pop the cold sheet mask on her face. She’d dress, apply some light make up. Shoot. Sam was supposed to be picking her up.

Grabbing her towel, Hazel hopped out and wrapped herself in the plush cotton. She grabbed her phone and dialled Josie’s number.

“Hey Hazel, what’s up?”

“Hi, Josie. Are you able to give me a lift to the gallery tonight?” Hazel ran a brush through her long hair. “I’m so sorry for the late notice. Something came up-”

“Of course. You’re at your Mum’s?” Josie cut her off.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Thanks, Josie.”

“Anytime. See you soon.”

Hazel twisted her hair into a low chignon and pinned it in place. It would be a mass of wild curls when she took it out.

The sheet mask from the freezer felt cool against her face as she pressed it into her skin.

Heading to her room, she picked up the black midi dress that she’d ironed earlier that day and inspected it for any wrinkles. Satisfied there were none, she quickly changed and pulled the zipper up her back. Hazel caught her reflection in the mirror and couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. She looked perfectly poised, apart from the white sheet covering her face.

Removing the mask, she was happy to find her skin had returned to its usual colour and the puffiness had reduced dramatically. Quickly swiping on some foundation and mascara, she was somewhat pleased that she at least didn’t look like she’d been crying in the grass for over an hour.

Hazel slipped on her black Dior slingbacks, a gift to herself after the success of the pineapple campaign and the only real designer item she owned. Checking that her MC cards were in her clutch, she headed down to the verandah, locking the front door as Josie pulled up in the gravel drive.

Hopping in the car, Hazel tried to muster up a smile. “Hi,” she said.

Josie didn’t fall for it. “You okay?” Her face screwed up in concern.

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Hazel stared out the window at the dark landscape beyond. She sighed. “If I do, I think I’ll cry again.”

“Oh, Hazel. Sam?” Josie asked in a whisper.

Hazel nodded her head.

“Try putting your tongue on the roof of your mouth. It’s meant to stop you crying.”

Hazel mumbled something that sounded like “okay,” as she did as Josie suggested. To her surprise, it worked. “I applied for a job. Ages ago, just after I got here. Brand Manager at Cloud.”

“Wow, Cloud is massive. How’d you go?”

If Josie was disappointed, she hid it well.