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‘I haven’t been to one of these events in ages,’ the new guy says.
‘Dain’s been too busy to host. Now we know why.’ The woman raises her glass to me. ‘Off the market at last.’
‘Well.’ Chloe gasps sharply. ‘He’s not put a ring on it yet.’
The entire group stares at my unadorned fingers. My not-good-enough manicure. I’m filled with shame. My self-control drowns in it and in a flash of anger I retaliate against the rudeness. ‘Then I guess there’s still time for one of you to make your move.’
Normally I can maintain a cool facade in front of the most demanding, rude customers but I can’t keep my cool now. This is worse than when Dain and I deliberately misled Ava. Because I’m crushed. The life we’re presenting is everything I want. But it’s a front and never going to be real. I’m not right for it. I don’t fit. I never will. I’m not good enough for him. At the worst possible time, in front of all these avidly curious people, I realise I do want that ring. I want it all with him because I’m in love with him. And while Dain has been doing everything he can to make this work, what I truly desire is the one thing he’ll never give—his heart. That’s not in play. And I’ll never be enough for him to want to push past the hurt of his parents’ break-up.
I’m devastated. I want to run. Right now. Just as my mother would. But I can’t. I’m cornered like a stray animal who’s wandered into that wolves’ den and I lash out.
‘Truly.’ I shrug as if I don’t give a damn. ‘Go ahead. I’m the mother of Dain’s firstborn. That’s all.’
Even as I say it I know it’s wrong. I bite my lip—offence is the best defence and I’ve struck out when I shouldn’t have. I have to stop myself from making this worse. For Dain. For Lukas. It takes everything to pull it back together. But I’m jealous and hurt and hopeless and I just want to hide. I force a smile as if it were a joke, but they don’t smile back.
I turn, leaving them with their mouths still ajar.
I’m burning with regret, embarrassment, shame.
I need a coffee. I’m never going to get through the next ten minutes, let alone through the performance of an entire play.
I don’t see an espresso machine at the bar and I slide through the crowd, ducking my head to find the staff door. I know my way through a kitchen and find the back exit in moments, paying zero attention to the surprise on the kitchen hand’s face. The back alley isn’t some dank place where rubbish bins are kept, it’s festooned with fairy lights and populated with an assortment of eateries. I walk into the first one that has a coffee machine visible through the glass.
I haven’t had a real coffee in so long that the hit is instant—warmth, energy, clarity. I know those people’s opinions of me shouldn’t matter but I care about the impact on Dain. And his opinion is vitally important to me. Yep, it’s true. I really am in love with him.
My head pounds, blinding me as what’s been brewing over the last few days crystallises. It hurts. Unbearably. I’m literally losing vision in one eye. But at the same time I really see. I really understand.
And I die inside. I never should have said that to Chloe. Certainly not in front of all those people. I couldn’t last an hour before letting him down. I was overly defensive and uncontrolled. I don’t have their education. I’m not engaging enough to fit. I’ve just made myself a laughing stock. And Dain.
He’ll be annoyed, maybe even angry. But maybe that’s good. Because I’m never going to be what he really needs.
I suddenly know what I need to do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Dain
THE EVENING IS going better than I expected. In fact, I’m almost enjoying myself. I suspected Talia was insecure about coming. She wanted to look good—as if she ever doesn’t. I was going to give her the diamond necklace I bought earlier in the week on a whim I can’t explain, but when I saw her in that black gown I abandoned the plan. She needed not a thing more. Besides, I knew she’d baulk at accepting it and that she’d let Simone get her shoes is progress enough for now. She straightened up and I could only stare, my mouth gummed. I thought I could stay in control but then in the car she looked at me with that desperate desire in her eyes and I lost my head.
At first in the bar she clung to my hand as if we were facing a life-threatening situation but it soon became evident she didn’t need me. I don’t want her feeling as though I’m supervising her every second as if I don’t trust her. I want her to be comfortable, to have fun and actually enjoy a party for once—not have to carry platter after platter of canapés. So I talked to that soap actor wanting investment advice for a while, only to then be immediately bailed up by a political candidate who leads me somewhere slightly more private. He drones on for way longer than I like. I’ve only just shaken him off when Simone hurries over.
‘Where’ve you been?’ she whispers.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Why aren’t you glued to her side?’ she hisses. ‘People are talking and you left her alone to...’
‘To what?’ I stiffen. ‘Talia’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself.’
‘Quite,’ Simone snaps. ‘A little too capable.’
I frown because that makes no sense. ‘What’s happened?’
‘She basically told Chloe that there’s nothing between you.’ Simone watches me closely. ‘That you’re still on the market.’
I blink. ‘She talked about us?’
I’ve said ‘us’, which immediately feels dangerous. But then I’m taken aback that Talia’s publicly denied that there’s an ‘us’. I shut down the outraged feeling that immediately rises. Now isn’t the time to feel anything. My teen years of suppressing emotion in public come in handy now.
