I hear Jake move in bed. I spin on the spot looking at him through the open door.
Guilt stains all over me in this moment, as I look on at the very evidence of my betrayal of Will, before me.
So not only do I cheat, I also lie about cheating.
I hate to lie to Vicky, but I can’t exactly tell her the truth. Will has to be the one to be told first. And honestly, I haven’t even had a chance to sort it all through in my own mind quite yet as to how that’s going to unfold.
Then I look down at myself and realise I’m completely naked.
“Tru? Are you still there?” Vicky sounds a little concerned.
“Um … yeah. Just give me a sec,” I mutter.
Removing my phone from my ear, I keep it in my hand and tiptoe back into the bedroom. I pick up the first item of clothing I find, which happens to be Jake’s stinky T-shirt from last night, and pull it on.
But it doesn’t smell so stinky anymore. It just smells of Jake. It pains and pleases me at the same time.
Silently, I walk back through to the living room, closing the door quietly behind me. I sit down on the edge of the coffee table facing the closed bedroom door.
“Okay, I’m back,” I say.
“All okay?” Vicky asks, she still sounds concerned. And I feel sick.
“Yeah, I just needed a drink of water, was feeling a little dry … so why on earth do you think I’m sleeping with Jake?”
“Because it’s splashed all over the internet, my darling,” she says softly. “Pictures of you dancing up close and personal in a club with Jake, then there’s shots of him carrying you into a hotel.”
Oh, fuck.
We were followed here by the paps.
Her words are thudding around my head, chasing on the tails of many, many other questions and fears I have.
How did I not even notice we were being photographed in the club, or at the hotel?
Because I was too wrapped up in Jake.
Why would they be so interested in Jake with me? It’s not unusual for Jake to be seen with a woman.
“They know who you are, my darling,” she continues as if reading my mind. “That you’re doing his bio, your name is in the article.”
Okay, so maybe there’s my answer why they’re so interested. Jake is sleeping with his biographer. That’s going to pique a little interest for the dirt-dishers.
“What else does it say?” I ask in a small voice.
“That Jake serenaded you at the show they were recording last night.”
“Oh,” I sigh.
“So that’s true?”
“Ahum.”
“Which song?”
“Through It All.”
“Oh,” she says.
Yes, oh, indeed.
“Okay, it also says here that he said you are the love of his life right before he serenaded you.”
“He never said that!” I cry.
I cover my hand with my mouth, realising how loud I was. I don’t want to wake Jake.
“He never said that I’m the love of his life,” I repeat in a quieter voice.
Goddamn tabloid journo’s.
“You know how they like to make things up, honey.”
“What else does it say?” I ask, cringing on the question. “Do they know Jake and I grew up together?”
“Hmm…” I can just imagine her eyes scanning the text in that way she does. And then I’m suddenly hit with stinging tears at the back of my eyes, and I just want to tell her everything. She’s one of my closest friends and right now I really need a friend.
But deep down I know I can’t tell her. I’ve betrayed Will enough already as it is.
“No,” she concludes. “It just goes on about you being his biographer … oh and the magazine is mentioned!” she squeals. “Um … well it just says you work here,” she quickly adds, recovering herself. “Okay, there’s the dancing together in the club … that Jake’s eyes were on you all night and no one else according to onlookers…” They were? “That he seemed really into you…” He did? “Showed absolutely no interest in anyone else whatsoever, and that you left the club together and went back to the hotel, and it finishes saying that maybe you’re the one to finally tame Jake.”
The one? They think I’m the one to tame Jake?
Not bloody likely. I don’t think Jake is tameable.
Then his words from last night play in my ears, ‘It’s always been you, Tru. Always.’
“Tru, are you still there?”
“Um … yes, sorry, I’m here.”
“Look this is fine,” Vicky impresses. “No press is bad press, remember, my darling. The media interest in you will quickly die down, and then you can get back to concentrating on the bio. If anything it will be good for the story.”
“What, that people think Jake’s screwing his biographer?” I come off as short and terse. It’s because I am.
And because it’s the truth. Jake has screwed his biographer. His non-single, in a relationship with Will, biographer.
“I’m just trying to look at the positives here, Tru.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” I run my hand through my tangled hair. Hair that Jake tangled up. When he was in bed with me.
Inside me.