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I close my eyes waiting for his response, but I hear a giggle instead. Carly’s.
“Yeah, he did. We both knew. Talked music all night long and we’ve never stopped since. Twin flames, meant to be. That’s what you said, wasn’t it, Con?”
Her words are too much for me, and now it’s anger, not just the need to barf and run that has my eyes locking with Connor’s across the table.
“Twin flames, meant to be? That’s what he said, is it?” I ask Carly, but I’m looking at the cheating, lying piece of shit who was charming his way into another girl’s pussy while I was stacking shelves to get cash for our dinner.
“Yeah,” she laughs. “Twin flames meant to be.”
If there’s a flame in this room, it’s me right now, and it’s all set to hit gunpowder. My knee is still bouncing under the table, and I want to scream in his face that he’s a cunt. An absolute cunt who can rot in hell.
But the douchebag stares right back at me, and oh my God, he looks pissed off. The wanker has the audacity to look pissed off.
“How long have you guys been together?” Connor asks me, switching the focus.
“Since Christmas,” I say. “Thereabouts.”
“And you became a hooker then, did you? After you met him?”
Josh’s family must wonder what the hell is going on, because if looks could kill, Connor would be a dead man.
“No, actually. I was a hooker before I met Josh. I met Josh because I worked at The Agency, not the other way around.”
“Right.”
“Yes. That is right.”
The other guests are scanning each other’s expressions, trying to work out what’s going down here, and I wish I could bury the anger, and the hurt, and the shock, and get on with Sunday dinner. But I can’t.
“Really sorry, everyone,” I say. “But I need the bathroom.” I’m on heart-thumping autopilot as Heather gives me an of course, let me show you the way and gestures to the door.
Josh goes to stand up along with me, but any dialogue will only rub salt into a very, very deep fucking wound right now, so I squeeze his shoulder with a fake smile and say be right back, baby, and then I’m out of there, following his smiling mum as she leads the way through the kitchen to a utility room. The bathroom is right at the far end, and thank fuck for that, because otherwise everyone would hear the retch I make as soon as the sound of her feet disappear away from the door.
I throw up my water first in one huge stream. A retch, and another heave, and there comes my sausage sandwich from earlier, but I can’t stop. I throw up everything until I’m dry heaving, and still it comes. I’m on my knees, insides tangled, and the very thought of Connor’s face has me heaving again… and seeing her here. Carly. Seeing them together…
It’s different than I could have ever imagined. Not least because she’s Josh’s fucking SISTER.
There’s a knock at the bathroom door, and my heart starts thumping again. I don’t know what to say to poor Josh. Sorry for being sick over my ex, but he’s a cunt. A cunt who now knows I’m a hooker…
Yeah, that’ll probably do it.
“Be right out, baby,” I manage to say. “Just feeling a bit…”
Another dry heave, and I curse myself. Fuck it, I’m going to have to face the music and let him in here, dry heaving or not. Why bother hiding?
I flush the toilet, then climb to my feet on shaky legs and get the door latch, trying to smile as I swing it open enough to let him in. Only it’s not Josh’s shoulder that barges past me. It’s not Josh who takes the bathroom door from me and shuts it tight.
“Bastard!” I hiss to Connor, and the barrage runs free. “You were all over that little cow from night one, weren’t you? Twin flames? How fucking cute. She doesn’t even know you were cheating, does she? What did you tell her, hey? That I was a distant ex from the past and you were free and single, ready to get your dick wet? Did you ever give a shit at all?”
I can’t stop the torrent. I want to shout and scream about how he used me and betrayed me and fed me lies, because of that thing in there. The girl who wants to see him make it like he’s a fucking rock god, just like I did.
Bastard. Absolute bastard cunt.
I ball my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms as he takes a breath to speak. I brace myself, ready for the excuses. It wasn’t like that, or some such bullshit… but his expression says anything but.
“I don’t give a flying shit about twin flames, Ella. And I don’t give a fuck about this bullshit with Carly. Who gives a toss? The most important question here is why the holy fucking hell are you a hooker? What the fuck’s going on?!”
I step back from him, unsteady, because of course… in my world The Agency has become normalised, albeit embarrassing when it’s bandied about over a dinner table… but in his world…
