Page 35 of Love Thief

I need Marshall. I need my sons. I’m even more emotional as I think about them. But I can’t burden them with this. James will be mortified and guilt ridden if he saw this.

“Just sit here a second. Get your breath and let me sort a plane, okay? I never said I wouldn’t do it. I’ll sort it, Evie. Get in the car and we’ll go, kiddo.” Oh no, he’s calling me kiddo. That’s not good news, ever.

We make it back to the hotel and I feel a bit of a fool. I’ve allowed Grace Simpson to get to me. But she was my friend, is all my head keeps saying.

Tommy shuffles me into our suite inconspicuously and I pack my small amount of clothes. He tells me there’s a plane in an hour. I’ll have to share with someone, but only one other passenger. It’s the best he can get.

I know I’m running again, and I haven’t even told Kell what’s happened. To be honest, I don’t want to. I don’t have the capacity to deal with him. It’s obviously been all the girls, a total full steam ahead ‘hate on Evie’ fest. And clearly all the men have been just as bad, sticking their oars in and having their two penn’orth.

This is just not my life. I’ve observed them all, and whilst I’m trying not to judge their choices, I know it’s definitely not a life I want. None of them are married (not that that should make a difference), none of them do relationships (although I am beginning to wonder if that’s the issue here). Transient women, for transient men. Shallow, the lot of them. Living for now, saying they’re enjoying life to the max. Portraying the glamorous lifestyle everyone wants. Don’t they?

Well not me, nor do I ever want it.

I think back to the Vegas wedding. How I saw Becky giving Levi a hard time, trying to initially jokingly get him to the altar and then becoming more frantic. Bells onto Gabe, pulling and tugging at him, literally dragging him towards Elvis.

Maybe it pissed them all off. That the worst man in the group, whose mantra is totally one and done, the man who has set the tone for their lives since the age of twenty four, has suddenly decided to get married. Again. And worse, this time around has committed the cardinal sin—No fucking around. Found the sucker, and hey presto married her.

But they don’t know the real story, they only see the façade. I must be the best actress in Britain. I'm nominating myself for a BAFTA.

But have I really been acting? He’s so easy to get involved with, which is why so many before me have. And wanted more when the curtain comes down on the twenty four hours. We all get involved with the Broadway show, the full on razzle dazzle for a few hours, because there’s nothing else there, nothing behind it. No genuine love, only the love that sells and promotes.

I don’t know what I should do, so I just carry on leaving. I have no one, not one person to talk to. My head says ‘don’t go, don’t give them the satisfaction.’ My heart says ‘get out now, you won’t survive.’

I sit with Tommy, my floppy hat covering over half my face, at the private airport lounge. My phone pings and a message comes in from James.

Sunshine

MUM, wtf. He is crazy

I look up at Tommy and show him the message. “What’s going on?” I ask, my voice totally dead.

“They’ve gone to a nightclub. The girls told them you were sick, and he got outvoted on going home. They all wanted to carry on with the press stuff.”

“Smart thinking. What’s he done at the club, fucked Grace and Gabe in public?”

Tommy raises his eyebrow at me.

“Yeah,” I say with a massive sigh.

Sunshine

click the link

He’s added a link to YouTube. I watch as a live stream comes up from the nightclub. Kell and Xan on stage in white dress shirts, sleeves rolled up, jeans hanging low on their hips, boots, looking drop dead gorgeous, every inch cocky rockstars. Xan has a guitar in his hands and Kellen is getting a microphone sorted.

“Hey Vegas,” he calls out, “how about a little song for you all?” The crowd is going wild in the club. “You all heard I got married here last night?” The club goers lose their minds, and he’s smiling into the crowd egging them all on. “I can’t hear you cheering for me.” They get even louder. “I fell in love with my wife when I was thirteen years old. She tried to drown me.” Both he and Xan laugh and high five each other. “This is for you Evie, I love you baby.”

Xan starts the guitar intro into a song and my heart stops beating. “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None The Richer. It’s about us. And when he sings changed lyrics of “I’ll wear those boots and you can wear that dress,” I really start to cry. Tommy holds me close, shielding me from the staff in the lounge. What a mess.

My sobs subside and I feel like an autumn leaf on the breeze—dried, all the moisture sucked out of it, being swished around until I’m so brittle I’ll break into bits.

I’m sitting morosely, waiting, when a security guy comes over and tells us the plane is delayed. The owner of the plane is still in a strip club apparently. “You might be waiting a while,” he informs us.

I flop back into Tommy. “Shall I go commercial? This all feels a bit like waiting to be hung.” I'm not sure I can take much more.

“No, I wouldn't. You don’t want to cause any more of a stir for yourself. Let’s wait a bit, get a coffee in the comfy seats.” He points to the settees. “The plane’s here, we just need the passenger.”

Chapter

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