I smile sadly. Is he reaching the crossroad? Is he on the verge of making the move that will toss our secret, blissful bubble into heartache and hurt? What we have is easy. Aside from the limited time we have together, it’s all rather easy. Too easy, which makes it harder to take the steps that will undoubtedly change that. I don’t know if I’m ready for the backlash.
What sane woman gets herself caught up in an affair? What woman with any self-respect and integrity would venture there? A woman who’s in love. That’s who. They say you can’t help who you fall for. I wholeheartedly believe that now.
I remember how much it hurt to fight the feelings, pushing Jack away and shutting down. I’m so frightened by the prospect of him telling Stephanie that he’s leaving her. I’m frightened that she will convince him to stay and work on their marriage. That her emotional blackmail will get the better of him again. That terrifies me the most.
I see her in my mind’s eye, hysterical and devastated, begging him not to go. There’s a knife in her hand, held on her wrist. I feel guilty. Jack will feel guilty. Guilt has a way of influencing your decision. It’s easier to succumb to guilt and disregard what your heart is telling you.
“I’ll see you next Friday at Colin’s launch,” he says on a hushed whisper. “We’ll do something after, yes?”
I nod into his shoulder, unable to feel excited about it. Next Friday feels like eons away.
Jack holds me in his arms, seeming unprepared to release me, so I gently break away from him and reach up, giving him a little kiss on his cheek. “See you then,” I say, and then walk away, feeling him watching every step I take until I close the door behind me.
Keep it together, I tell myself. Breathe through it. I find my way out onto the street and quickly find a wall to perch on to gather myself. I don’t know how much longer I can see him like that. How much longer I can keep walking away.
“Annie?”
I glance to my right and find Lizzy approaching. “Hey!” I shoot up, way too quickly, and I sound way too pleased to see her, too. I glance around, panicked. “What are you doing around here?”
She frowns at me, and I strain a fake smile through my guilty face. “I have a dinner date.”
“Here?” I ask. Of all the fucking hotels in London, she’s having a date here? At this particular time?
“Yes, here.” She smiles through an even deeper frown. “What are you doing here?”
“Had a meeting with a client,” I blurt, shrugging. I’m behaving strangely, and it isn’t escaping her notice.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” Oh fuck, she has to go into the hotel. What are the chances of her and Jack crossing paths? I don’t know, but I can’t risk it. Yet I have no clue what to fucking do about it, either.
At that very second, I see Jack coming down the steps of the hotel, and I scream in my head for him to turn around and go back. He looks up, smiling when he sees me a few feet away. My eyes go around, trying to silently tell him to pay attention to who’s with me.
His steps falter, and his smile falls. But my attempt to warn him doesn’t register in time, and Lizzy starts to turn around. “Jack?” she asks.
Jack’s face is a picture. It’s so bloody obvious, and Lizzy must see it. How the fucking hell am I going to get out of this one? It’s too much of a coincidence that I’m here and Jack’s here, even if we’re working together. Why would we be meeting here?
Jack seems to gather himself quickly. “Hi, Lizzy. And Annie’s here, too! You girls having dinner?”
I’m utterly stunned by his coolness. How? “No,” Lizzy says slowly, looking at me. I strain a smile. “We just bumped into each other.” Her eyes are accusing, and I die on the inside. “What are the chances of you two being at the same hotel?” She cocks her head in question.
I shrug and cough, forcing myself to locate some energy to play it as cool. “Like I said, just finished up with a client.”
Jack starts buttoning up his suit jacket. “Excuse me a moment.” He turns to the bellboy and slips a note in his hand. “My wife, Mrs. Joseph, is on her way out. Please hail her a cab when she’s ready.”
“Yes, sir.” The bellboy nods sharply.
“Thanks.” Jack turns back toward us, smiling brightly. It’s so fake. His wife’s on her way out? It’s quick thinking, granted. But she isn’t on her way out. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and glances at the screen. “It was nice to see you two.” Taking his phone to his ear, he smiles brightly, backing up. “Oh, and we’re still on track with the gallery schedule, Annie. Colin said you were asking.”
I nod sharply as Jack turns and leaves. I waste no time swooping in for a subject change. “So who’s your date with?” I chime, injecting tons of excitement into my tone.
“Oh, I’d better go. I’m late.” Lizzy, suddenly awkward, hotfoots it up the steps into the hotel.
“But who’s your date with?” I call after her.
She totally ignores my repeated question, not that I’m bothered. I need to be out of here, pronto. “Call you later!” she sings.
I sag all over the pavement, but quickly pull it together when she turns and faces me. “We’re out next Friday,” she declares.
I wilt, despite not being disappointed that I can’t make it, but Lizzy needs to think I am. “I have a cocktail party at Colin’s new gallery. I’ll call you if I can get away early.” I could get away early, no problem, but meeting up with the gang means not seeing Jack. I can go out with my friends any time I like, whereas my opportunities to spend time with Jack are rare. Nothing will make me pass them up.
“Okay, call me!” She breezes into the hotel, and I stagger toward the main road, exhausted by it all.
I really don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.
Chapter 17
The days running up to Colin’s launch pass by surprisingly quickly, thank God; most of my days are spent at Colin’s gallery, checking over the installation of the roof and having building control pass it. It’s been chaos there, the decorators and landscapers working through most of the nights to get everything done on time so the launch can go ahead. It is a push, all hands on deck, but we scrape in just on time.
I stop off at the Tesco Express at the end of my road to pick up a bottle of wine, planning my night ahead while the cashier rings it through. A soak in the bath. A glass of wine while I get ready. I have a taxi booked for eight, so I have two hours to slowly preen before I head back to the gallery to celebrate its opening. Stuffing my bottle of wine in my huge slouchy bag, along with a bottle of fizz for Colin, I pay and get on my way, rootling through my bag for my keys when I make it to my front door.
“Hey, Annie!”