Page 93 of Quiet Longing

“Ah, fuck,” he muttered low, and I glanced up, noticing his eyes were levelled somewhere over my shoulder. He let go of my cheek and stepped back. “We better get going,” he continued gruffly, and I stood there, confused for a second. Then, as I climbed into the car, I realised why he swore. Stephanie was standing by the entrance to the hotel, and she was staring in our direction. She’d seen Rhys tenderly cupping my face, and if her expression was anything to go by, she wasn’t very happy about it.

Ah, fuck, indeed.

25.

Rhys

Charli and I travelled in silence, the only sound was the radio playing softly in the background. I felt uneasy, replaying the look on Steph’s face when she saw us standing by my car. She was too shrewd not to notice how I’d been staring at Charli, like I was prepared to tear up the entire city until I found out who or what made her cry.

Steph wasn’t going to be happy about that look, considering how badly our conversation had gone the other week.

My gut sank remembering how her eyes had lit up when I’d arrived at her place. She’d obviously thought I was there to work things out; when, in reality, I’d come to do the opposite.

“Can I get you something to drink? I have some of those beers you like,” she’d offered as she’d led me into her living room.

“No. Thanks, though,” I’d said, taking a seat on the armchair while she’d lowered onto the sofa across from me.

“You look good,” Steph had said, her expression softening as her gaze ran over me.

“You, too,” I’d replied because it was true. My ex was always very well put together, even though I knew she was still reeling from our breakup.

She’d run a hand through her sleek hair. “Thanks. It’s so good to see you. It’s felt empty here without you on the weekends. I miss you staying over.”

Ah, Christ. As soon as she’d said that, I’d known the conversation was going to be rough. I’d also known by her sugary tone that she’d thought she was going to get me in her bed before our “talk” was through. I’d been with her longenough to recognise the signs, her private intentions. Also, her mentioning those sleepovers had irritated me because it had always been me coming to stay with her. Whenever I’d suggested we go to my place, she’d make up some excuse, and I’d known why.

Steph had hated my house for numerous reasons and refused to stay there. She’d said it freaked her out how old it was and that it was probably haunted. The parking situation. She didn’t like Bruce, the elderly widower who lived next door with a Jack Russell who was just a little too yappy. Had said the dog gave her headaches and that she disliked what she’d termed the “old man smell” coming from Bruce’s place when she’d pass by and the windows were open. And okay, his house wasn’t exactly fresh, but the man was pushing ninety. He didn’t have it in him anymore to keep his house spic and span, and I disliked how Steph had no empathy at all for his situation.

She only cared how it inconvenienced her.

“Listen,” I’d said, sitting forward and resting my elbows on my thighs as I’d levelled her with a sincere expression. “My reason for coming over was just to check on how you’ve been doing and to make sure you’re okay.”

“So, you don’t miss me, then?” she asked, ignoring what I’d said and fixating on how I hadn’t responded with an “I miss you, too.”

I’d exhaled heavily, glancing down at the floor before lifting my gaze. “Steph, that’s not why I’m here. I didn’t come over to reconcile. Like I said, I want to make sure you’re okay and that you aren’t putting any energy into thinking we might get back together because that’s not—”

“Oh, fuck off, Rhys,” she’d burst, standing and crossing her arms, tears suddenly filling her eyes as she’d scoffed, “You think I’m sitting around pining for you? Whatever. I’m moving on.You stole two years of my life, and I’m not wasting a single second more on you.”

Well, that obviously wasn’t true since she’d talked about missing me only a minute ago, but I hadn’t called her on it, deciding instead to let her save face. “Good. That’s good, Steph. And I’m sorry if you think I wasted your time. That was never my intention.”

“Sure, it wasn’t. You strung me along knowing full well you were never going to marry me,” she’d shot back, and I’d flinched.

“No, that’s not true. I would never string anyone along. Iwasgoing to marry you. You know I was.”

“Right, and you changed your mind just because I didn’t want your precious cousin ruining the speeches at our wedding? I mean, seriously, Rhys, get a grip.”

I’d narrowed my gaze then, anger simmering, “Ruining?” I’d seethed. “Bloody hell, you’re so wrapped up in your own wants that you can’t even hear yourself, can you?”

“I can hear myself perfectly,” she’d snapped back.

“Well, hear this, we’re over. And no, I didn’t break up with you just because of Shay. That was one of many eye wateringly red flags.”

“Screw you, Rhys. As far as I’m concerned, this breakup is the best thing that ever happened to me. Now, maybe I can finally find someone who actually appreciates me. I hear Aidan Finnegan is single and opening a new restaurant in town soon. Maybe I’ll stop by.”

I’d released a tired breath. Had she thought she could make me jealous by going after my friend? “You do that. I’m leaving.”

“Yes, go, and don’t bother coming back pretending like you care. You never cared about me!” she’d shouted. I hadn’t countered the statement because I’d known deep down she was simply hurting and lashing out.

I dragged myself from the stressful memory just as I pulled into the driveway at Padraig and Jo’s house. Charli had been uncharacteristically silent on the drive, and I knew she was probably wondering about my reaction to Steph seeing us together. How to explain to her that my ex was spiteful and was now probably going to be a nightmare for her to deal with?

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