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She slapped her laptop closed, flicked the lights off, then strode from the office with a click of the door behind her, down the hallway and to the elevator. Jabbing the button, she impatiently waited for it to arrive. Ding! She stepped in, and to her frustration, just as the doors were about to close, they slid open again, and in stepped the one person in the world she wouldn’t want to share a lift with.
Benjamin caught her eye, and grimaced. ‘I’ll catch the next one.’
‘No, you don’t have to do that, Benjamin.’ Stepping aside, she forced herself to be the bigger person and made way for him. ‘There’s plenty of room for both of us.’
The lift doors closed and as it descended, so did an uncomfortable silence. There was so much Samantha wanted to say to him, but as he was refusing to be fair about the separation of their assets and bank accounts, none of it was overly nice, so she clamped her lips firmly shut. They’d handpicked office spaces on the same floor as a newly married couple, and while sharing the same office tower was now not ideal, neither of them was going to move their business elsewhere – and nor should they need to, she thought. They were both professional adults. Well, he was. Right this second, she wanted to stomp her feet and scream at him like an insubordinate child.
Turning to her, Benjamin didn’t bother covering up that he was studying her.
Her hackles rose. ‘What?’
‘You look tired, Samantha.’
She crossed her arms and lifting her chin, levelled her gaze with his. ‘That’s because I am tired, Benjamin.’ She wanted to add, because you’re being an arse, but didn’t.
‘Well then, why don’t you take some time off?’ His gym-buff shoulders lifted in a casual shrug. ‘It’s not like you have to ask a boss for holidays.’
‘Thanks for the advice, but I don’t need it from the likes of you.’ Her tone was icy cold.
He pulled a ‘whatever’ face and shrugged again.
It made her blood boil. ‘I’m planning to head back to Australia for a little holiday soon.’ She’d spoken before thinking, and instantly regretted doing so. Benjamin knew more than anyone just how much she didn’t want to go back there. Ever.
‘Is that so?’ He eyed her dubiously.
‘Yes, it is.’ She mimicked the shrug he’d just given her. ‘Shea and Jack are getting married, and she’s asked me to be her maid of honour, so it’s the perfect time to go back.’
He took a long moment to reply. ‘As long as you’re sure, I’m glad to hear it, because finally crossing that bridge will do you the world of good.’
‘I know it will, which is why I’m going.’ She couldn’t help the sharpness of her reply. ‘Not that I need you to remind me of the fact.’
The strained look on Benjamin’s face conveyed that he clearly knew he was treading dangerous waters. He offered her a tight smile, and said ‘You’re right, Samantha, I shouldn’t have offered my opinion when it wasn’t asked for.’ Then he looked back towards the doors as if counting down the seconds until they opened.
Samantha bit her trembling bottom lip as they both fell silent once more. It felt so strange, standing beside him but worlds apart, like meeting in the lift was the extent of their relationship. Her ten-year relationship with him flashed through her mind, as if on fast forward. Long story short: she’d fallen for him as a nineteen-year-old, hook line and sinker, had married him a year later and had dreamt of one day having his babies ever since they’d tied the knot. But he’d gone and proved to her that dreams were overrated. So too was love, and marriage, and everything that went with it.
Ding! Destination reached. The door slid open.
‘Enjoy your run,’ he said, stepping away.
‘Will do,’ she replied. ‘Say hi to Harold, won’t you.’ Even though the husband-stealer was known as Harry, she simply couldn’t help using his formal name.
‘Will do,’ he called back before disappearing out the revolving doorway and into the busy London high street.
Samantha followed his familiar aftershave-laden trail, the scent of it bittersweet. Stepping outside was like a slap to her face with an icy hand. Knowing she needed to run the chill off before it seeped into her bones, she started jogging at an easy pace along the crowded pathway, past rows of cafés and restaurants. At first, the frigid air stung her lungs, but a block and a half later and she was attuned to the wintry evening. Inhaling the fresh air deeper and deeper, she gradually felt it invigorating her stagnant insides. This had been exactly what she’d needed. And it was something she needed to do more often.
Slowing her pace as she come to an intersection, she jogged on the spot as she waited for the lights to change. Controlled chaos was all around her: bumper-to-bumper traffic, honking horns, hordes of people making their way with determined strides, their eyes directed downwards and brows creased. It was rare to see people acknowledge another, rarer still to catch another person’s gaze. Unlike the place she’d once called home, if she dared say hello to a passer-by in the street here, they’d most likely think she’d lost her marbles.
Turning to her left as she jogged in place, she spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Her heart stammered then galloped wildly. Their gazes clashed, darted and then clashed again, for just a breath. Samantha almost waved, and a big part of her wanted to go on over and wrap the woman in a hug, but then she stopped herself.
Jane Holland had slipped off the face of the earth when the news of their husbands’ affair had become common knowledge. After myriad one-sided texts, unanswered calls and ignored voice messages, Samantha had gotten the gist, loudly, that Jane didn’t want anything to do with her. It was as if she blamed Samantha for her husband cheating with Benjamin. Samantha was saddened by the fact. Deeply. A woman she’d once thought of as her closest friend in London was now looking anywhere other than in her direction. And when the pedestrian chime sounded, and the crowd pressed forward, Jane took off like a bull at a gate, clearly flustered and in one hell of a rush to get as far away from her as possible.
Well, Samantha thought with a stiff upper lip, stuff her, and the horse she rode in on. I’m done playing nice with people that don’t give two hoots about how I’m coping.
It made her miss Shea even more. Her best friend had always cared. Immensely.
And that’s when it really hit her. She had to go back for the wedding. She owed it to the only true friend she’d ever had. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t. And she couldn’t deny how much she needed a break, especially one taken back in the far-reaching countryside, with so much room to breathe, to be, and hopefully to set herself free. But she hadn’t told Shea about her marriage breakdown. Hadn’t known how to without her friend jumping on the first plane to comfort her, and she didn’t want to put that on her. Shea had a life to live. A wonderful man to love. A child to dote on and raise. She had all Samantha had ever wanted, and more. And she couldn’t be any happier for her.
If only she could say the same of herself.
