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“She can scream she hates Connor all she wants,” I tell Josh. “But I very much doubt that’s true. There will still be a part of her praying the megastar walks back in through the door. I’d put my entire bank balance on it.”
“Really? Your entire bank balance? That would be quite a gamble.”
“Yep. But a safe one.”
Josh smiles. “Right. Well, I’m only glad you’re not skipping into the sunset, singing his hooker song, arm in arm with him and his megastar status.”
“As if. You’re way more of a megastar than that prick will ever be. Millions of followers or not.”
We share a soppy smile, and I almost forget the craziness of the situation. I’m here in the passenger seat of a car, speeding over to ease the pain of the girl I’d filed as a man-stealing bitch, and it’s crap, but I ask myself – would I have fallen for his bullshit if I was her, with him professing his undying love, smirking like a rock god as he played his guitar?
Yes. I would. I did. Connor’s charisma is convincing enough to charm the panties off a nun.
“He’s such a cunt,” Josh says. “A cunt to you, a cunt to Carly, a cunt all round.”
“Yep, he sure is. And he’ll be a cunt to whoever comes next, as well.”
Josh’s jaw is gritted, and I know he wants to kick Connor smack bang in the balls. Carly might be a bit of a twat sometimes, but Josh loves her to bits – that much is as plain as day. It’s quite beautiful to see.
Beaconsfield doesn’t seem all that far away when you’re driving in the middle of the night on empty roads. I figured I was pretty calm, all in, but that illusion disappears when we pull up next to Carly’s car at the farmhouse. These are a different kind of nerves than the ones before proposals. They are the personal kind, the intimate kind, the about my boyfriend’s family kind. I never figured there would be so many shades of nerves. There could be a book about it. Fifty Shades of Nerves, by Ella Edwards. I’m becoming a fucking expert.
“Here goes,” Josh says, taking a deep breath himself as he gestures me ahead of him to the garden gate.
The front door opens for us without us even knocking, and Heather gestures us in, as pale as a ghost in the moonlight. She looks so drawn, heartbroken herself as she pulls Josh in for a hug.
“We should have told you.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I’d have appreciated it.” But he hugs her back, nice and tight. “I would’ve helped.”
“You would’ve tried, but honestly, Josh, she’s been so upset. She was crying her eyes out, begging us not to get you involved.” Heather turns her attention to me, managing a smile. “Or you, Ella. I’m sorry you’re caught up in this mess, too. It’s just… horrible.”
I give her a hug, and actually, I’m not sorry I’m caught up in this mess. I’m not sorry at all. Because if there’s one thing the people who Connor screws over deserve, it’s to get over him. He’s caused enough heartache already.
“Where is she?” Josh asks, and Heather points to a door to the left.
“In the living room, under a duvet. She’s been sobbing again since she found out you were on your way over.”
“Does she know I’m here as well?” I ask, and Heather puts her hands over her heart.
“Not yet. I wasn’t sure you were coming, so I just…” She sighs. “She suspects, but she doesn’t know.”
She seems so exhausted. So utterly broken for her daughter.
I put a hand on her arm, filled with another bout of empathy.
“I’ll try and help,” I say. “I promise.”
“Thank you so much.” The relief in her eyes is palpable, clearly reaching the end of her reserves. “Carly didn’t know that Connor was already with you,” Heather tells me. “He played it down, said it was done and over.”
I smile. “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. I’m familiar with his bullshit by now.”
Josh takes me by the hand, and gestures to the door ahead. Heather disappears into the kitchen, no doubt grateful for the break.
“Let’s face the music and dance,” Josh says, making the most of the calm before the storm.
“Just not to the hooker song, please. I never want to hear it again in my life.”
We share a moment, and he raises my hand to his lips for a kiss.
