Page 60 of Someone Like You

‘I’m okay now,’ I tell the driver. ‘Thanks.’ The window slides up silently.

‘Are you all right?’

I exhale slowly, then shoot Raff a weak smile. ‘Yeah, I’m okay. You’re probably right – too much to drink and not enough to eat.’

This is an outright lie. I only had a glass and a half of Champagne all night. Once Peter disappeared and I became hyper aware of Raff and Julia hitting it off, I switched to soda water and downed so many canapés, the waiters started giving me a wide berth. Raff obviously didn’t notice any of this.

He pats my leg – my bare leg – then rests his hand on my thigh right above my knee. As he stares out the side window, wearing a dreamy smile, I drop my gaze to his hand, mesmerised by his thumb moving gently back and forth.

Raff and I have been close for years and there must have been hundreds of times when he’s hugged me, or grabbed my hand to cross a busy street, or patted my back, or rested his hand on my leg reassuringly.

But this is the first time that I’ve wished it meant more.

And that’s why I nearly vomited out the window.

I have feelings for my best friend –romanticfeelings. And like a frigging idiot, I may have realised too late.

When I wake up to my alarm and peer into the pre-dawn darkness, there’s a moment of ignorant bliss before I recall last night’s realisation. Then it all comes screaming back and I roll over and groan into my pillow.

I wish it were Saturday and I could stay in bed all day and wallow. But I’ve got a meeting with the analytics team first thing to review stats on my clients’ holiday campaigns.

The not-so-glamorous side of marketing.

I’m also meeting with Claire this afternoon about the director role. And of course, Raff will be in the office, as he doesn’t finish up until the end of next week.

But at least I don’t have a client event tonight.

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. Why don’t I have a cat? If I had a cat, I could curl up with it and tell it all my problems.

Well,oneproblem.

One big, fat, stinking, stupid problem.

How the hell didn’t I see it sooner? And who the hell am I supposed to talk to about it when one of my best friends is laser-focused on finding Raff a new girlfriend and my other best friend is the problem itself on legs?! I can’t even talk to Lorrie about it, because as close as we are as colleagues, we’re not really friends outside of work.

Poppy. She’s the only person who comes to mind.

I heave out an ugly, ragged sigh, then throw the covers back and get out of bed.

Today is going to suck no matter what; there’s no point in stalling any longer and making it worse by being late.

Even anticipating how much today would suck, it feels like the suckiest day to ever have sucked. And it’s only 11a.m.

My 9a.m. meeting ran long and, despite three out of four of my holiday campaigns killing it and the fourth hitting its targets, I found it difficult to care. My mind kept wandering to last night, and my colleagues had to repeat themselves –repeatedly. I looked like an idiot.

Then after the meeting, I remembered that I left the dress I wore last night at home. A courier was supposed to collect it from the office today and take it back to the designer. Now I’m going to have to cover the cost of the courier myself, which I discovered during a tense call with the designer’s assistant is £120. I could have bought myowndesigner dress at TK Maxx for that.

And in my rush to leave the apartment this morning, I also forgot my gym bag, meaning I can’t work out at lunchtime – and with how busy I am, that makes three workouts in a row I’ve missed. Ineedmy workouts – just as much for my mental health as my physical health. They’re my meditation, when I can switch off my over-active mind and justbe.

Also, Claire just stopped by my desk to tell me she needs to bump our meeting up to one, meaning the preparation I’d planned to do between one and three needs to be done now.

Oh, and Freya texted:

Heard from Raff – he liked Julia! And Poppy said it’s mutual! So excited. Thanks again for going with him. *kissing face emoji*

No wonder I’m still feeling queasy.

Is an emotional hangover a thing? Is this how I felt after Eric announced he was in love with Donna and they were getting married?

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