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Josh stays silent. He knows it’s true.
We pull into Belgravia, and I realise that the cab driver has likely been listening to every word, but I don’t give a shit. A good sign in the mini scheme of things.
I weigh it up, still churned to all hell as Josh and I walk through the courtyard, and as much as it pains me, I’d rather my parents hear it from me, myself.
But not yet.
I want to tell them in person, face to face, eye to eye. Where they can see the changes in me, right there in front of them. Where I can tell them about my genuine happiness, without them clicking end call and running off sobbing in horror.
They touch down at Heathrow airport in three weeks’ time. Date signed, sealed and soon to be delivered.
I just pray Connor’s success stays hidden from them until then. I get a shiver at the prospect of him telling them himself, like a fucking asshole. But then I remember, he doesn’t have the luxury. He’s with Carly, and he won’t rock that boat. That was made clear at Josh’s parents’ place.
Thank fuck for that.
We get up to the apartment and it’s such a relief to be back home.
“I’ll grab us a coffee,” Josh says.
“Thanks, you’re the best.”
He chances a smirk. “Even better than the rock icon to be? I would be flattered, if he wasn’t such a prize-winning dumbass.”
I adore his humour. It takes the edge off the pain a little. I kick off my heels and throw myself down on the sofa without a care for my bruised butt.
He’s joined me with our coffees when I’ve summoned my own self resolve enough to cement my plan.
“I’m going to tell Mum and Dad, but I want to do it when they’re here. It’s too personal to do it on video call.”
Josh nods. “Ok. I should probably head out and visit Tiff while you make the announcement, or your dad might be chasing me around the apartment with the bread knife. I’m an easy scapegoat.”
“You’re not going to be a scapegoat. The choice has always been mine. If I hadn’t made the choice, I would never have met you.”
“Yes. They might not see it quite like that, though.”
“It’s the truth, and I’m going to be honest about it. I am who I am. I’m not the girl I was, weak and lonely, putting Connor before myself. They don’t know about half of it anyway,” I admit. “They have no idea how skint or hard up I was here in London. They have no idea how he dicked around networking while I was struggling for every penny we had. They’d never have accepted it if they did.”
Josh sighs. “That’s quite a revelation you have to tell them.”
“Yeah. I should have done it sooner. But I wasn’t being honest with myself, either. I had no self-esteem of my own that I could draw on to stand up for more.”
“I’ve got every faith in you,” Josh says. “I’m sure they will have, too.”
I sigh and tip my head back. “I just have to pray they make it to Heathrow before they hear Connor’s song.” The thoughts whir, but they become obvious, just like that. I’m doing it again. Playing a passive bystander and praying for the best, like there is nothing I can do about it.
But I can.
I can talk to the piece of shit myself, and tell him to keep his fucking mouth shut about my identity, or I’ll use every ounce of ammunition I have to strike him back. If he wants Carly, and her twin flame love and her contacts and whatever else he needs from her, then he can keep me the fuck out of it.
I’m going to do everything I can to make sure my parents aren’t going to hear about my part in Connor’s song.
I grab my phone from my handbag and Josh raises his eyebrows.
“That was a quick turnaround. Are you going to call them right now?”
“No,” I say. “There’s someone else I’m going to speak to first. Fuck the hurt, and the humiliation that means nothing whatsoever. Time to go to the source. To the asshole himself.” I unblock Connor’s number.
“Shall I leave?” Josh says, pointing to the bedroom. “Give you some privacy?”
