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I rest my head on his chest before I leave. “I know. Thank you.”
The journey to the hotel is the absolute antithesis of how I dreamt my parents’ arrival back in the UK would be. I was dreaming of hugs and handshakes as they met Josh and realised how incredible a guy I’d landed for myself. I was planning on cooking with Mum in the high-tech kitchen, and hanging out watching TV with Dad, and browsing the London streets in shops beyond my wildest dreams. And theirs.
That’s the saddest thing of all.
All the things I wanted to share with them. All the things I wanted to give them, they’ve never had the chance to have before.
I wipe away a tear. Fuck this shit. I’ve cried enough for two lifetimes over Connor’s dickhead behaviour. Josh has seen me bawling so many times it’s ridiculous, and I’m not going to be bawling now. Not for the sake of a dipshit of an ex who has well and truly crossed the line.
I’m not the girl he knew.
I’m not the girl my parents knew on his arm, doting on his every word and hiding in the shadows like a shrinking violet.
I straighten myself up when I arrive in the hotel lobby, my shoulders back, tall and proud. Through the abject pain, I remind myself that I’m not a child anymore. I’m a twenty-four-year-old woman who knows her own path, and I’m going to make sure Mum and Dad hear it from me.
I don’t know how I’m going to get through this, but I do know it’s going to involve a torrent of anger and pain.
Disbelief, disappointment, concern. Rage.
Shame.
I’d have been open mouthed at the grandiosity of the Suite One doorway a few months ago, but I’m plenty accustomed to affluence by now. I rap on the door, and wait, like a criminal on trial.
I actually gasp when the door opens and Connor smiles back at me.
I want to launch myself and claw his eyes out. The prick’s dressed in a suit like Josh’s. Yeah, right. So much for tattered leather. I look into the eyes of the man I loved, and the venom hits me, because he’s a fake victim, wringing his fucking hands as he lets me in.
“Come on in, Ells. We’ve been waiting. Thank fuck you’re ok.”
I stare in disbelief.
“Thank fuck I’m ok?! Of course I’m fucking ok.” I barge past him. “Fuck off, Connor, get the fuck out of here.”
“I can’t. I love you too much to see you destroy yourself. I’m sorry, but I had to do it.”
I spin in the suite hallway to face him.
“Destroy myself?!” I shake my head. “You pulled the trigger in the first place, you stupid, selfish prick.” I meet his eyes. “And you know what? I’m happier than I’ve ever been.” My rage is ice cold. “Get the fuck out of here. I never want to see you again. Not once. Ever.”
I pace on through to the suite living room, and my heart stops dead at the sight of my parents. Mum is sitting at the table, with tear streaks right down her face, and Dad is so fucked up, he’s not even beetroot red, he’s ashen. They both are.
“Why didn’t you tell us?!” Dad says. “You could have reached out at any time, ANY time, and we’d have been right here to save you. I can’t believe you got yourself in this state. Shacked up with a fucking pimp.”
Time for self control. Fuck, it’s hard.
“Josh isn’t my pimp, he’s my boyfriend. We just happen to work for the same agency, that’s how I met him.”
It sets Dad’s fuse alight.
“THE SAME AGENCY? What the fuck?! You’re a prostitute, Ella! A fucking whore!” He grips his hair in his hands, pacing, and Mum starts crying again.
I feel Connor’s presence behind me.
“Get out!” I yell. “Get the holy fuck away from me!”
“HE’S HERE BECAUSE HE GIVES A SHIT!” Dad yells, “UNLIKE THAT OTHER FUCKING TOSSER!”
“You think?” I feel the tears straining, but no. NO. “Connor is the tosser who ditched me for someone else in the first place. He’s the tosser who destroyed my life, partying like a stud while I was working my ass off for nothing. NOTHING. We HAD nothing, and THAT’S when he didn’t give a shit. When he SHOULD have given a shit.” I laugh an icy laugh at him over my shoulder. “And this was your last resort, wasn’t it? To fuck my life up over again.”
