Page 96 of Heart of The Night

‘It is – it’s not over yet,’ I replied, nodding faintly. ‘But that’s life, I suppose.’

Jason placed a hand on my shoulder, his features creasing with deep concern. ‘You ought to slow down a bit, Will, or you’ll burn out.’

I shot him a sceptical glance. He knew full well that working was a form of self-preservation for me. It was a sanctuary, a place where I could escape the suffocating grip of my personal demons. Immersing myself in it was an act of desperation, a means to drown out the noise of my troubled heart and restless mind. It was the only way I knew to numb the persistent ache.

‘I am resting, in a way.’ I reached for my glass of red and took a sip.

‘Seriously, Will,’ Alex said, fixing me with a firm, stern look. ‘When was the last time you took a holiday? Christmas doesn’t count.’

I frowned thoughtfully. It must have been two years ago, when I’d gone to the Bahamas with Alex, Andy, and Chloe. That holiday hadn’t been particularly pleasant either, seeing as Henry – Alex’s father – had died of a spontaneous heart attack.

‘A couple of years ago, I think.’

‘Two years without a holiday?’ Andy huffed, shaking his head in disapproval. ‘That’s mental. You need a break, man.’

I chuckled. ‘Well, isn’t that why you’re here?’ I gestured to the table. ‘Let the games begin.’

Jason nodded, shuffling the deck one last time. He had the button for this hand, a small advantage. Andy slid a couple of chips forward to place the small blind, and Alex followed suit, posting the big blind. With a deft flick of his wrist, Jason dealt the first hand. The cards landed smoothly in front of us, and we each picked them up, the room falling into a silence as we studied our hands.

A pair of jacks stared back at me, their bold faces almost daring me to underestimate them. Strong cards, certainly capable of winning a decent pot, but not invincible. I glanced around the table, trying to read the expressions of my friends. Andy’s usual smirk was replaced by a thoughtful frown, Alex’s face was impassive as ever, and Jason’s eyes flickered with the faintest hint of a challenge.

Mentally, I calculated the odds, considering the potential hands that could outdo mine. A queen and king could spell trouble, and any pocket pair higher than jacks would leave me in the dust. I needed to stay cautious yet optimistic, playing the hand with a balance of aggression and restraint.

The first round of betting began, chips clinking as they were tossed into the pot. My heart thudded a steady rhythm, the thrill of the game providing a welcome distraction from the weight of my personal troubles. For a moment, the world outside the room faded, and all that mattered were the cards, the chips, and the camaraderie of old friends.

‘So, Jase,’ Andy said, his tone light and laced with amusement. ‘Rumour has it a blonde angel blessed you with a great time last week.’

Jason’s eyes met mine, his lips curling into a smug smile. I returned his gaze with a smirk, feeling a swell of pride that he had managed to captivate Olivia. She was a lovely, complex woman, their pairing a beautiful dance of compatible traits. From Cara’s accounts, Olivia was the quintessential hopeless romantic, perpetually giving people the benefit of the doubt, often to her own detriment.

Cara, ever the realist, found Olivia’s capacity for forgiveness exasperating, particularly in the case of Colin, Olivia’s unfaithful ex. Despite his repeated betrayals, Olivia’s heart had remained open, her leniency unyielding until Colin, remarkably, was the one to end things. It was a bitter irony, a testament to the tragic beauty of Olivia’s character. Her patience, her empathy – these were qualities that could either elevate or destroy her, depending on the beholder. But, in Jason, I saw a kindred spirit to Olivia’s flawed romanticism, a man who could flourish in the light of her unwavering loyalty and understanding.

‘Yes,’ Jason said, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as his gaze flitted to Andy’s. ‘It was a heavenly experience without a doubt.’

Andy chuckled, reaching for his glass of red. ‘Good for you, man. About time.’ He raised the glass to Jason, then took a sip.

‘Yeah. Worth the wait, though.’

‘I’m sure,’ Alex said, a weary sigh escaping as he matched Andy’s bet. I glanced at him, recognising in that sigh the deep frustration he felt over Ivy.

‘Don’t know why you’re sighing, mate,’ Andy said to Alex, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. ‘You must have got a shit hand, because as far as I’m aware, you got Ivy to come to the charity gala with you next week.’

Alex’s dark eyebrows furrowed. ‘She’s attending as my PA, not my date.’

‘Could be worse,’ I murmured, watching Jason consider whether to call, raise, or fold. ‘I might be going solo.’

‘Solo?’ Jason echoed, his brows knitting as he lifted his gaze to mine. ‘What about Cara?’

‘I’m not sure she wants to go anymore.’ I studied him intently, searching for any sign that might reveal Cara’s current state of mind. It troubled me to rely on Jason for insights, but with Cara and I barely speaking outside of work, he was my best link. I knew she confided in him, yet I couldn’t gauge how much he withheld out of loyalty to her.

‘She does,’ Jason said. ‘She’s going shopping for a dress with Livy on Thursday.’

I stiffened, my eyes widening with disbelief. ‘Really?’

Jason nodded, giving me a faint smile. ‘Yeah.’

I leaned back, trying to digest this unexpected piece of information. If Cara was going dress shopping, then she clearly hadn’t abandoned hope. It was a sign, however tentative, that she was taking steps toward me, not away. For the first time in a week, I felt a sense of cautious optimism stirring within me.

I resolved to arrange for a dress first thing in the morning and have it sent to her. She would oppose the idea, not wanting me to spend money on her, but the thought of her bearing the cost for an event I was dragging her to – it bothered me.

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