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“Huh.”
“What?”
“Shaz always said I was a closed book.”
“I don’t think of you like that. I know you don’t want to burden people with your problems, but that’s different to hiding things. I don’t find you secretive. And I like that.”
I skate my fingers over her back, loving the warmth of her body close to mine.
“Why the big sigh?” she says.
“I’m sad to be going back tomorrow. It’s been a good few days.”
“I know what you mean. But I’m glad in a way. I want to get things sorted.”
I don’t reply, because I don’t want to demand to know when she’s going to talk to him, and what she’s going to say. I don’t want to push her. But when sleep overcomes us, I dream of losing my way in a misty forest. The future is unclear, and all I can do is hope.
*
Juliette
The next day, we fly home. When we get to Christchurch, we walk out of the airport with the others and wave goodbye to Gaby and Tyson.
“What’s going on with James and Aroha?” I ask when they stay behind to chat.
“He told me she’s in some kind of financial trouble, so she’s going to be coming into the office in the New Year to help us prepare for the conference.”
“Oh yes,” I say, “I forgot about Sydney. It’s about three weeks away, right?”
“Yeah, but we’ve got a lot to do for it. I’m going into the office tomorrow actually and so’s Tyson, I think, to get started on it.”
I tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. I wish I could kiss him, but I’m conscious that someone could be watching, so I restrain myself.
We stand there awkwardly, just looking at each other, a world of emotion passing between us, but unable to vocalize it. I want to promise him that this will all be over soon, but my coming conversation with Cam is looming like a tidal wave. Something tells me he’s not going to take it lying down. He’s going to make it difficult for me, and I can’t think about anything past that.
“When’s your first day?” Henry asks.
“Next Monday, the eighth.” The office is officially closed before then, although the guys are all going in to start work on the conference.
“Okay. Will I see you before then?”
“I hope so.” It’s the best I can do.
He frowns. “Are you feeling okay? You look tired.”
“That’s because someone wore me out last night,” I scold. Then I sigh. “Just a bit of PMS.” It’s the truth—I’m due around Thursday, and I feel achy and tired, and my boobs are tender. Although I acknowledge that might also be from all the action I’ve had over the last few days.
“Ah. I’m sorry,” he says.
“Eh, it’s no big deal. Well, I’d better go. Stay in touch, okay?”
“Yeah. Take care of yourself.”
I watch him walk over to his Uber and get in, and before long it’s pulling away.
With a sigh, I get into mine, and the driver’s soon heading into the city. The gray sky mirrors my mood. It’s New Year’s Eve tonight, and I wish I could spend it with him. But he told me he’s heading over to his family, hopefully to patch things up with his brother, and I’m going over to my parents’ house. So it’s a matter of waiting until I’ve sorted myself out, and we can finally be together.
When I get to the apartment, I let myself in. It’s cool and quiet, and Cam’s not there, to my relief. I unpack and put some washing on, make myself a cup of coffee, then take it to the sofa and pull out my phone. It’s time to call Cam.
