Page 54 of A Lot to Unpack
‘What can I do for you?’ I ask. ‘Do you need something for work?’
He laughs.
‘Do you ever take a minute off? No, it’s not work. Someone sent me a cake. No idea who, but it’s too much to eat on my own.’ He lifts a white box in one hand, and then pulls the other out from behind his back to reveal a bottle of champagne. ‘Want to share it with me?’
‘I’d love to,’ I reply, because I really would. I’m not sure how this plays into my clearly not very good strategy, though.
He steps into my room, walks past me, and sits down on the edge of my bed. I swear, his foot is practically on the contract, where it’s still sticking out a little.
‘Do you have glasses?’ Jordan asks as he opens the bottle.
I glance towards the sideboard to see two unused water glasses still sitting there. I grab them and bring them over, too scared to leave him alone, next to the contract, for too long. Even if he doesn’t know it’s there.
‘So… you said someone sent you a cake?’ I say, holding out the glasses, ready for him to pour the champagne.
‘I guess so,’ he replies, twisting the cork until it pops with a satisfying sound. He doesn’t flinch – I probably would’ve screamed, but my nerves are definitely getting the better of me tonight. I hold the glasses out while he pours, trying to keep my hands steady.
‘So I take it you know Paige and I are recently divorced?’ he says, leaning back against the headboard like we’re old friends catching up.
‘Erm, yeah, I’ve heard… bits and bobs around the office,’ I say, as neutrally as possible.
‘Part of me wondered if she sent the cake,’ he replies. ‘She knows I’m here. And it’s red velvet. My favourite.’
I chose red velvet because it’s my favourite too.
‘But then I remembered she hates me,’ he jokes, and gives this little half-laugh that’s not entirely convincing.
‘Do you really think she hates you?’ I can’t help but ask.
He pulls a face.
‘Well, I haven’t had many divorces – this is actually my first,’ he says, sort of jokey. ‘But it’s been messy and… I suppose it makes you feel like you hate each other, when you’re scrapping over books, records – company stock…’ He laughs. ‘But we don’t hate each other. We just don’t like what we have when we’re together.’
‘That makes sense,’ I reply, and it really does. More than I expected. I know, I didn’t get divorced, but break-ups are break-ups.
‘What about you?’ he asks, taking a slice of the (thankfully) pre-cut cake. ‘Have you ever been divorced? Or are you married – I forget sometimes people stay together.’
I laugh.
‘No, not married, and I never have been, but I split up with my boyfriend this year,’ I confess, taking a slice of cake – so glad I get to eat some, seeing as though I paid for it. ‘We were living together but… yeah, it didn’t work out.’
‘Was it mutual?’ he asks, sucking icing from his fingertips – and it’s oddly sexy.
‘Erm, not really,’ I say, stabbing at the cake with my fork. ‘I guess, technically, he decided to send photos of his penis to other people, and I decided to break up with him, so… mutual in the sense that we both stuck a knife in. Made sure the relationship was truly dead.’
He lets out a low laugh.
‘Wow, yeah, okay, that’ll do it,’ he replies. ‘Sorry to hear that. He sounds like a wanker.’
‘Quite literally,’ I joke. ‘Yeah, he was, and it wasn’t very nice, when I found out, but it opened my eyes. It showed me I could do better. That I should aim higher next time.’
‘The bar sounds like it was low,’ he replies. ‘So… go way higher.’
‘Believe me, I will,’ I tell him. ‘I didn’t realise it at the time, but he did so many little things that… wore me down. Things that made every day harder.’
‘It sounds like you’re happier without him, then?’
I go quiet for a second too long.
