Page 135 of The Reno
“Ridiculous,” Willa said, sipping her drink. “We’ve been rivals since we were kids. It’s always a battle of how he can win. By now, he’s probably heard from his dad about—” Willa couldn’t even say her own business name out loud. That was how ashamed shewas of how things had gone. “He’s probably here to rub it in.”
I glanced back over and found that Aidan was gone.
“He’s gone.”
“Who cares about Aidan? We’re here to celebrate our client win, baby!” Willa said, knocking the rest of her champagne back. “Elias, another, please!” she shouted across the bar.
Willa turned to me. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
I bit my lip and told her the thought that had haunted me for two months. “What if he’s moved on, Willa? It’s been weeks, and we haven’t spoken. We only knew each other a few weeks, for god’s sake. I miss him so much, but it also feels like a dream now I’m back here. I’ve wanted to call him a million times, but he asked me not to. So what if I go back and see him and it’s not the same? Or he laughs and says he didn’t mean it. Or he is seeing someone new? I wouldn’t blame him.”
I would blame myself.
Willa whistled, shook her head, and thanked Elias as he placed two full champagne flutes in front of us. Mine was still half-full. “The man is in love with you. You made a dramatic, romantic pact. And apart from the whole no-contact thing, he is sickeningly good at communication. You think he’s going to forget about you in two months?”
“I don’t know.” I held my hands. “No one has ever been in love with me. I don’t know how quickly someone can move on.”
Willa swivelled the barstool and clasped my head in her hands.
“I don’t do soppy. So I will say this once, and I want you to hear it. I love you,” Willa said. “And it would take me longer than two months to get over you, I promise.”
My chest warmed. “It isso freaky when you’re soppy.”
Willa grinned and let my head go. “I know. You need to go back, Kat. Don’t chicken out.” After a while, I turned. Her cool blue eyes were watching me. “You’re miserable. I can see it. Anyone can.”
“I miss him so much.” I groaned. “But I don’t even know what the plan is supposed to be. Do I just rock up on the day and say hello? We never planned how this is supposed to happen, and now I’m spiralling.”
“Kat. Listen to yourself.” Willa sighed. “You’re in a position most people would kill for. You have a man waiting for you. A man who adores you so much that he let you go so you could sort your baggage. Well, my baggage, I guess. I can’t even dream up a man that well-adjusted.” She gulped her drink. “Trust me, before I swore off all male kind, I tried.”
I bit my lip. Willa was right.
“However, we need to talk about what you’re going to do about your mum.”
I groaned. “I don’t know, Wills. We’re barely talking. At first, I tried to talk to her, to convince her. But now, I’ve just accepted I need to move without her approval.”
Willa nodded. “Good. Let her sweat a bit. The only way she’ll start to respect your word is when you start living by it. If you keep flaking on your plans because she puts you down—it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
I nodded. I thought about all the plans that had deflated with a word from Mum. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“I’m always right. Go home, tell your mum you’re moving toEverly Heath and don’t let your mum convince you out of it. Did you just get déjà vu?” Willa pointed to her glossy lips. “Oh yeah, that’s ’cos I’ve told you this shit before.”
THIRTY-NINE
The Tube was stuffy, and my throat felt tight as a bloke played the accordion, and I stood next to the armpit of a man with some serious body odour issues. Everything was too loud and hot and smelly. Overstimulated, I changed onto the Elizabeth line to Reading, which smelt moderately better. At the other end, I jumped into a cab, preparing for a lecture from Mum about wasting money.
But this time, I had a response.
I wasn’t a fuck up.
I was a grown-ass woman. I was capable and creative.
I was more than her low expectations of me. I was capable and creative. I repeated the words like they were my morning affirmations. I might even paint it on my mirror in red lipstick.
I tipped the cab driver, pushed open the creaking gate and walked up the weeded path to Mum and Graham’s Victorian terrace. Next door, our neighbours, Will and Patrick, were watching reruns ofGogglebox. I’d spoken to them twice in my entire life and not given it a second thought. After two months in Everly Heath, that was bizarre to me.
I tiptoed into the house, placed my keys in the bowl and tried to kick off my shoes without making any noise. Mum and Graham would be in bed by nine, and it was ten thirty. I’d been at the bar later than I’d planned with Willa, and while I wasn’t drunk, I was definitely tipsy. Willa and I had planned what I would say to Mum tomorrow. I was leaving in two weeks.
Willa kept repeating the same point—they were welcome to visit, but I wouldn’t accept any negativity at all. By the end of the first bottle of champagne, Willa role-played Mum. She aced the flat look Mum gave me when she was disappointed. As Willa wagged her finger, and we both burst into laughter, Elias watched on and shook his head as he wiped down the bar. Elias usually let us stay later when leftover handbags and empty pint glasses littered the tables.
