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‘Ilove you,’ he said. ‘Justin caseIhaven’t told you enough lately.’
‘Iknow.’Shesmiled, reassured that they had finally communicated with each other.Forthe first time in ages, she believed everything would be okay.Theywere a team again.Shecould trust him to have her back.
Shedidn’t know why she held onto things so long, waiting until they built up into a bomb blast, instead of bringing them up when they first occurred to her.
Diggingher hands into his dark hair, she lowered her lips down to his.Hegrabbed her head and deepened the kiss while she pressed her breasts against his chest, letting him know exactly what she wanted.Connorgrowled.
Hemoved his hands to her bottom and stood up in one smooth motion, carrying her to the stairs.Settingher down on the carpeted steps, he looked at her, a devilish gleam in his eye as he pushed her sundress up around her waist and relieved her of her underwear.
Bythe time they got back to the curry, it was cold.
19
Francescanailed the dance.
Asthe students went over the moves from the previous week,Francescahit every hip thrust and hair swing.Whenit came to the new choreography, she managed not to look as hopeless as last time.Sheglowed whenJaiveerapproached afterwards and commented on her improvement.
‘Yousurprised me,Goldie.Ithought you’d be a one-class wonder.Gladyou came back.’
Thenext morning, she walked to the office from her flat, choosing the extra exercise over the expediency of public transport to delay the possibility of seeingKrish.Herheart beat faster, and not just because of the pace she set herself.Asense of dread hung over her.Mostly, she hoped he wouldn’t be there.Theless they saw of each other in the run up to theBlenheimwedding, the better.Buta small part of her just wanted to breathe the same air as him.
Stopping, she fought the urge to slap her own face.Notthe right attitude,March.
Shehad a wedding to shoot that weekend and needed to get her equipment.Avisit to the office couldn’t be avoided.Nextweek, she planned to work from home, doing the tedious but necessary task of copying the drives under her bed so that she had a second set of back-ups.
Thinkingabout it made her groan.Shestill hadn’t figured out what to say to the gangster bride whose footage had been stolen in the robbery.Sweatbegan to bead between her breasts.Shecould only deal with one thing at a time.Rightnow, she had to focus on putting together a team for theBlenheimwedding two weeks from now.Sofar, calls to her contacts had returned nothing.Sheneeded a second shooter and a drone operator, but everybody she knew was busy.
Allshe seemed to have were problems.Thesudden urge to call her dad frothed up inside her, much to her surprise.Shequickly dismissed it; he would just share some pointless anecdote about rowing that wouldn’t give her any answers and then go on about how hot it was inSpain.No, she’d deal with her problems all by herself, as per usual.
‘Hey,Mick,’ she said to the security guard, now readingTheTibetanBookofLivingandDying.Basically,Mickgot paid to read.Nicelife.
Sherode the lift up, jiggled her key in the lock until it turned, and went inside the office.Thelights were all off, the room quiet.Great.Krishwasn’t there.Shewalked into the editing suite.
‘Hey.’
‘Christon roller-blades.’Shegrabbed at her neck and tried to ignore the jolt of happiness that pierced her, forcing the corners of her lips to curl down and not up. ‘KRISH!Areyou trying to give me a heart attack?Whyare you sitting in the dark?’Shedropped her bag onto her chair.
Tobe fair it wasn’t completely dark.Hisscreen was on, casting him in a white ethereal glow.SaintKrish.Francescaflicked on the light switch.
‘Sorry.Ididn’t know if you’d be in today.’Hischair creaked as he leaned back and crossed his arms.
Perchingon her desk,Francescamirrored his body language, arms scissored across her chest like a security gate. ‘Ijust came by to pick up some stuff.I’llbe out of your hair soon.AndI’mgoing to work from home next week, so…you know...’
Hispointer finger drew circles on his desk. ‘I’maway fromFriday—’
‘Ona job?’
‘No.’Helooked up and held her gaze. ‘I’mgoing toParis.WithJess.We’vehad it planned for a while.’
‘Oh.’Francescastudied her feet as they lapsed into mutual silence.
Paris.Hewas takingJesstoParis.Thevery placeKrishandFrancescahad gone many years ago.Aflare of jealousy tinged with anger rose within her, and she squeezed her hands into fists.Pariswastheirs.Ithad been the best holiday of her life.Sittingnext to theSeine, eating warm baguettes and drinking wine out of paper cups.Joiningin an impromptu dance party on the steps of theSacreCoeur.Makinglove in the rickety budget hotel that claimed to have once hostedAlbertCamus.
Shehated that her heart was thumping at 200bpm.Shehated that she wanted to cross the room and stake her prior claim on him.Shehated that her lips were aching to kiss him.
Herarms still crossed, she dug her nails into the side of her ribs, reminding herself of the reasons she couldn’t do any of those things.Shepressed her nails harder, until she was surely drawing blood.
Pain.That’swho she was.That’swhat she would bring toKrish’slife.Thepain of her infertility.Thepain of her conditions.Thepain of loving somebody who was broken.Shecouldn’t do that to him.
