Page 3 of The Promise
“Oh my God,” I moan when I have my firstmouthful.
“Fucking orgasmic, right?” Cara asks around herown.
If I’d had this before sex with Blake, I would have said sex pales in comparison; unfortunately, I don’t think anything—or anyone—will live up tohim.
“What did I say?” Cara asks when she sees the look on myface.
I shake it off and focus my attention on her. “A little birdie told me there’s something going on with you andNathan.”
Cara looks up to the ceiling like she’s praying for strength—either that, or hoping she imagined what I justsaid.
“It’s nothing,” she eventually says before shovelling a massive spoonful of chocolate sprinkle topped yoghurt in hermouth.
“Oh no, you’re not getting away with that. I just spilled my guts about my man trouble so you’re going to do the same. Plus, hearing about someone else’s disastrous love life will make me feel better,” I say, giving her my best sadface.
“Blackmail,really?”
“Really. Nowspill.”
“Fine, but just remember you asked forit.”
It turns out Cara and Nate were childhood sweethearts. Nate arrived not long after I left and they instantly hit it off. At fourteen, she thought he was the one. She had their lives planned out. They’d go to the same university, move in together, marriage, kids, the lot—and all before they were thirty. I kept my mouth shut when sensible questions like how they were going to afford this wanted to slip out, because it was all just a dream. Everything was perfect until A-level results day came and Nate did better than expected. Cara had no idea he’d applied to his dream university, but he had, and he got in. He dumped her right before the party that night. She found out later he spent most of that nightcelebratingwith the schoolslut.
Even after all that, Cara can’t stay away from him. He’s picked her up and dropped her again more times than she can count but she doesn’t seem tolearn.
“You have to stop falling into bed with him, Cara. You’re allowing him to have exactly what he wants: a roll in the sack without anyconsequences.”
“You think I don’t know that? I tried, I’ve dated, I’ve even had a boyfriend or two, but somehow I always end up backthere.”
“Do you lovehim?’
“No!” she snaps, way toodefensively.
* * *
I have to admit that when we leave, the sugar and girl time has made me feel a little better, although it’s short lived, because when I walk through Aunt Addy’s front door, there’s an envelope on the doormat with my name on it. The handwriting alone makes my hearthurt.
I scoop it up and place it on the dining table while I put the kettleon.
I’m still sat there staring at it over an hour later when Mum and Aunt Addy reappear, Aunt Addy smiles weakly and mutters something about another vertigo attack before going straight to her bedroom with Mum by herside.
I think the only good thing that’s come out of the last few days is that Mum’s been relatively sober. Having someone else to think about other than herself has probably helpedsomewhat.
“Hey, baby, how’re you doing?” Mum asks when she comes to sit next to me. “Is that…” she doesn’t finish the question, because we both know what itis.
* * *
That letter haunts me all night. I swear I can feel it calling to me from the other room but I stay strong because I’m not ready to hear—or read—anything from him yet. I’m too scared he’s going to say something that will make me want to forgive him, and he doesn’t deserve that. I told myself when I moved back here that I was going to live a life for me, but look where I’ve found myself already. I’m more broken than when Iarrived.
* * *
By Thursday, I can’t take it anymore. Aunt Addy’s gone to meet clients and Mum’s in the bath so I pluck the envelope form the table and sit myself on the sofa with it. I let out a big breath before ripping it open.What’s the worst it can say?I askmyself.
Addison,
I’m not going to try to defend myself in a letter, I need to explain what was going on to your face. But please know that I never meant to hurt you and I know it sounds cliché but it really wasn’t want it looked like. You’re the only one for me, bakergirl.
A sob bubbles up my throat at the use of his nickname for me. I miss him so fucking much that just reading his words is making my heart bleed for him. Is what he’s saying here true? Is he hurting just as much as I am? Aunt Addy and Mum have both said he’s looked a mess when they’ve seenhim.
