Page 61 of Lovers in Lockdown

‘Do you trust me?’ he asks earnestly.

Of course, I trust him. Would trust him with the life of my children, if I ever had them. But am I really going to do this? Give up the life I’ve built for myself out here, move back to the UK with no place to live, no job, no money, just to chase after the girl I love who may not even feel the same way about me?

Yeah, I fucking am.

Living on my own, without roots, without relationships, was working for me until I met Honey. Until she gave me a taste of what home really is. And now, for the first time in my life, I don’t want to be alone anymore. I just want Honey.

I just have to find a flight out of here.

And then I’m going home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Honey

As much as I appreciate Ellie staying with me for the last two weeks and doing her best to distract me from my heartbreak by pumping me full of wine and fast-food, I think I’m ready for her to go home now.

Between her increasingly crazy ideas of ways to get over Noah and the gallons of alcohol she has all but injected into my bloodstream, I am exhausted and in dire need of some quiet time.

And, truthfully, I can’t hack the hangovers.

Ellie, on the other hand, can drink up there with the best of them. I mean, she’s out-drunk entire football teams before. It’s true. I was there, I saw her. It was impressive and, frankly, borderline terrifying.

But I’m just not cut out for it.

And it’s probably about time I bite the bullet and learn to be myself again anyway. I need to get my single, happy-to-be-alone, pre-Noah self back. And I can’t exactly do that when Ellie is dribbling on my shoulder at night or setting up a DIY bonfire in the bathtub to burn Noah’s stuff, resulting in us almost being arrested for arson.

Don’t ask.

It’s probably best if you don’t know, ignorance is bliss and all.

‘Honey Bunny, I’m thinking that today we could bake cakes in the shape of the spineless, oxygen-depleting wankstain and smash them against the wall or something.’ Ellie has dubbed Noah the spineless, oxygen-depleting wankstain, since I start crying every time I hear his actual name. ‘The clean-up will probably be a bitch and we might mess up the paint or something, but it’s not like your brother has decorated all that nicely anyway and if you tell him it was me that did it then I doubt he’ll be upset. He’ll understand it’s for the greater good of your wellbeing anyway. I just think it’d be a really great outlet for your grief.’

She doesn’t even wait for an answer before she’s pulling out baking supplies and scattering them across the countertops, flour erupting from a paper packet and sprinkling like snow over the kitchen. Ellie and powdered baking ingredients is a recipe for disaster, pardon the pun.

And as fun as it sounds to channel my heartbreak into smashing a gateau into my brother’s wallpaper, my head thuds at the destruction I’m going to have to clean up when this is all over. The kitchen is already a mess and we haven’t even started baking yet.

‘Ellie -’

‘No, I know what you’re going to say,’ she cuts me off, ‘but trust me, a cake smash is exactly what you need. Just imagine the cake is his face and then throw that son of a bitch as hard as you can at the wall. You’ll be feeling better in no time. I really should have thought of this sooner. Not that the vision board we made and the new dildo I ordered for you, which should be delivered today by the way, won’t be helpful, but I really think a good old exercise in controlled aggression is the answer to moving on from Noah,’ she snaps her hand over her mouth as she realises that she called him by his real name.

But it’s too late. Tears are already welling in my eyes.

‘Fucking hell, I’m such a dumbass. Honey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to -’

‘No, it’s okay,’ I sniff, sinking down to sit cross-legged on the kitchen floor, ‘I should be able to hear his name without blubbering like a baby.’

Ellie crouches beside me and brushes the hair out of my eyes. ‘Oh, Honey,’ she whispers. ‘You didn’t cry this much when you broke up with Thomas. Actually, I don’t think you cried at all.’

I rest my head against her shoulder and let the tears stream down my cheeks. ‘No one ever loves me enough to stay,’ I howl into her neck.

Ellie pulls back so she can look me in the eye, her face stern, ‘Excuse me, I’m here, aren’t I? Your brother was here and sitting on the doorstep the second he heard the sadness in your voice on the phone. Yeah, your parents are asswipes, Thomas was an asswipe, the spineless, oxygen-depleting wankstain was an asswipe. But do not think for one single second that you are not loved, because you mean the whole fucking world to me and Reid.’

‘I’m sorry - I didn’t -’

‘I know,’ she whispers, gently tilting my chin up at her. ‘I just wish I could take your pain away. And I’m so angry at the people who put it there.’

I have the best fucking best friend in the entire world.

---