‘But you’ll be late.’
‘I don’t have to work today.’ I’m on autopilot as I blurt an excuse to keep me in bed and hopefully Nan away. ‘I’m working Friday night so Del gave me today off. I’m going to catch up on some sleep.’ I keep my face hidden under the covers and even though I can’t see her, I know she’s smiling.
‘Didn’t get much sleep at Miller’s over the weekend, then?’ The delight in her tone cripples me.
‘No.’ This is a ridiculously inappropriate conversation to be having with my grandmother, but I know it’ll pacify her and give me some peace . . . for now. I have no room to accept any guilt for lying to her.
‘Wonderful!’ she cries. ‘I’m going shopping with George.’ I feel her hand rub my back over the bedcovers briefly before her footsteps get quieter and the door to my room closes.
Finding the strength to break my split with Miller to Nan will have to wait until I can think of a plausible reason. She won’t settle for anything less than a full explanation. She doesn’t love Miller Hart; she loves the idea of me being happy and in a stable relationship. But if I’m mistaken and she does love Miller, then I can soon remedy that . . . but I won’t. My recent revelation will only stir ghosts for Nan, too. She might be spunky, but she’s still an old lady. I’ll suffer this darkness alone.
I relax into my mattress and attempt to find sleep, hoping my dreams don’t bring more nightmares.
I was hoping in vain. My sleep was restless, seeing me waking regularly, sweating, breathless, and mad. I give up come evening. After forcing myself to shower, I lie wrapped in a towel on the bed, trying to rid my mind of Miller and desperately trying to seek something else to focus on. Anything other than him.
I should join a gym. I bolt upright in bed. I have joined a gym. ‘Bollocks!’ I grab my phone and note that I have forty minutes to get myself to my induction. I can do it, and it’s the perfect distraction. They say working out alleviates stress and gets the feel-good pheromones pumping. It’s just what I need. I swing into a rushed frenzy, stuffing some leggings, an oversized T-shirt and my white Converse into a bag. I’ll look like a complete amateur, with no sporty-looking get-up in sight, but it’ll do for now. I’ll go shopping. I bundle my heavy hair up with a hair tie as I scurry down the landing, coming to a stop when my phone declares the arrival of a text message. Walking slowly down the stairs, my heart drops with each step I take when I see it’s him.
I’ll be at Langan’s Brasserie on Stratton St at 8.
I want my four hours.
My arse hits the step halfway down the stairs, and I stare at the message, reading it over and over. He’s had far more than his four hours already. What point is he trying to make here? He’s holding me to a deal which was made weeks ago, and has since been quashed by feelings and too many encounters to list. He even said himself that it was a stupid deal. It really was a stupid deal. It still is a stupid deal.
His unreasonable demand stirs years of anger until it’s fizzing uncontrollably in my gut. I’ve battled years of self-torture. I’ve beat myself up trying to understand what my mother found that was more important than me and my grandparents. I’ve watched the agony she caused affect my dear nan and gramps, and I’ve tinkered too close to causing more agony myself. I still could, if Nan ever discovered where I really was during my disappearing spell. He’s listened to me spill my heart to him, he drowned me in compassion, and all the while he was the king of debasement? I glance back down at his message. He thinks by reverting back to the clipped, arrogant arsehole he’ll have me falling at his feet again? A red mist falls, blocking the questions I want to ask and the answers I need to find. I can see nothing except resentment, hurt and burning anger. I’m not going to the gym to lash out my hurt on a treadmill or punchbag. Miller can take it all.
I jump up and dash to my bedroom, snatching down the third and final dress from my shopping trip with Gregory. Giving it a good inspection, I conclude very quickly that he’ll disintegrate before my eyes. Holy shit, it’s lethal. I have no idea what possessed me to allow Gregory to talk me into buying it, but I’m so glad I did. It’s red, it’s backless, it’s short, it’s . . . reckless.