by A. L. Brooks
When she looked up again, Justine was gone.
Sighing, she climbed into the warmth of the cab.
The business-class lounge at Montreal was relatively quiet. She found herself a small table and tucked into the pasta dish before her. Somehow, despite how upset the previous evening had left her, a calmness seemed to have enfolded her since waking this morning. Along with that, her appetite had finally returned, and she wolfed down her late lunch in a distinctly unladylike fashion. She mused on her current state as she sipped at a glass of orange juice. Something about at least being able to explain to Justine, in simple terms, what had happened for her on Tuesday night had relieved some of the tension she’d been carrying. Her words hadn’t particularly resolved anything—for either of them, she suspected—but it had been a form of release, however small.
Her phone bleeped.
Are you at the airport now? Can I call?
It was Danielle, and Alex closed her eyes against the sudden upwelling of love and gratitude she had for her friend. Danielle couldn’t have known Alex really needed to talk to her right now, but her contact was welcome nonetheless.
She texted back and a few moments later her phone rang.
“Hi, Alex, how are you?”
“Hey. Your timing is impeccable. I was just thinking some things and wondering if I could talk to you.”
Danielle chuckled. “Well, I am here. Talk to me.”
“I love you, you know that?” They weren’t her intended first words, but they had to be said.
“I know,” Danielle said, a slight catch in her voice. “I love you too.”
Alex sighed. “Justine caught me on the way out of the office last night, and we went for a drink.”
“Oh.” Danielle’s voice was laced with surprised shock. “How did that go?”
Alex filled her in on the short conversation.
“Gosh, no wonder she was so hurt by what happened between you. And how did it make you feel, learning that, and telling her what it all meant for you?”
“Upset, at first. But, this morning, something feels like it’s…shifted. Like I feel just slightly better for being able to say what I said. I think because, as I left, she didn’t seem like she completely hated me anymore. And that felt good.”
“I know this week has not proceeded at all to plan,” Danielle said and Alex snorted, which made Danielle chuckle again. “But actually I think it has helped you. I think some things are beginning to come through for you, yes?”
Alex shut her eyes briefly as the fear of what she needed to do when she got home twisted itself around her belly. “They are. I’m scared of what I know I have to do next. But I think I know now that I have to do it.”
“When will you talk to her?”
Alex swallowed. “Sunday. Tomorrow I will be too tired and I will need a bit of time to think about just what I want to say, and how.”
“And will it be final? Are you ready to leave her?”
“Danielle, I don’t know if ready is the right word. I haven’t even thought about the practicalities of it—which one of us keeps the flat, for example. I guess Terri would—she always wanted it more than me anyway. But where I will go if I’m the one that moves out—”
“In the short-term you will come to us, obviously,” Danielle cut in, her tone brooking no argument.
“Thank you,” Alex whispered, turning her gaze to the window to avoid other passengers seeing her glistening eyes. “But,” she continued, her voice stronger with her conviction, “it is the right thing to do. I know that much now.”
It seemed surreal, to be saying it, to be planning to announce to Terri on Sunday that they were over. But they couldn’t go on like they had been, that much was certain.
“I am with you, all the way,” Danielle said. “Always.”
Alex gripped the phone tighter, as if somehow that would pull Danielle nearer to her. She would give anything for a big hug from her friend right now.
“Thanks, Danielle, that means the world to me.”
Chapter 13
The four hours of sleep Alex had managed on the plane were nowhere near enough. Her eyelids refused to fully open and her brain was functioning just enough to meet the driver from the car service, but not for much more. She dozed in the back of the car as he returned her to the flat in Wimbledon. When they pulled up in front of the mansion block she and Terri called home, the nerves and fear returned in full force.
She was equal parts surprised, annoyed, and relieved when she walked into the flat to find it empty. It was only eight thirty in the morning—where on earth could Terri be? Still, at least she didn’t have to face her just yet. She wasn’t entirely comfortable with how happy that thought made her.
Feeling guilty at the knowledge she had more time on her own, finally Alex summoned the energy to unpack and put some washing on. As she sat at the breakfast bar sipping a hot tea, she was at a loss as to what to do next with the day. Not knowing when Terri would be back was awkward and knotted her stomach with tension.
She took her drink into the living room and flopped onto the sofa. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head back and tried to analyse where her feelings were.
She was scared, yet, at the same time, more determined than she could ever remember being. She’d never been good at doing what was right for herself above all others, but she’d been even worse at it these past few years. She hated to rock the boat, and she detested confrontation. All that meek behaviour had simply led to her being deeply unhappy when she let everyone else get what they wanted to the detriment of her own needs. She gazed around the room—the flat was a case in point. She’d wanted to live somewhere modern, freshly built, where they would have less cause for concern over maintenance and major work. Terri wanted character and a project to work on, and Alex, as ever making sure to keep Terri happy, had demurred. The two years they had spent renovating this place had been incredibly hard work, and the money they’d spent on it still gave her shivers of horror if she added it all up. But Terri was happy, and for a long time that had seemed enough for Alex.
Not anymore.
She knew that wasn’t even because of what had happened with Justine. It was everything that had evolved this past year. The promotion had given her a professional validation that was about as high as she’d ever hoped to get. The resentment that change in her working life had elicited from Terri was a shock, and an eye-opener into a part of Terri’s personality that she’d not seen before. Then, of course, there was the growing distance between them as both their jobs demanded more of their attention, along with Terri’s gravitation towards her night with Liz. All of it had gradually chipped away at Alex’s ingrained need to…settle. To put up with things even when, in the deepest recesses of her psyche, she knew they weren’t what she wanted.
She sat up suddenly as the front door opened. Reassembling her face into calm composure took significant effort, but she had managed it by the time Terri rushed into the room.
“God, sorry! I ran out to get you a nice breakfast, but it looks like I misjudged when you’d be home.” Terri’s words tumbled over themselves, and Alex stared at her. Terri was flushed, her hair—normally so perfectly tousled—now looked just…messy. Terri flapped her hands around her head. “Didn’t even bother showering, just got right out of bed and up to the baker’s. Here,” she said, thrusting a large bag in Alex’s direction. “Freshly baked croissants and pain au chocolat. Your favourite.”
Alex reached slowly for the bag, her jet-lagged mind trying to deal with the whirlwind Terri’s entrance had resembled.
“Thanks,” she said, her insides churning as a wave of fresh guilt swept over her. Perfect. I’ve cheated on her and want to end our relationship and she brings me pastries. “That’s really…nice.”
Terri smiled, but her gaze wouldn’t quite meet A
lex’s, and Alex couldn’t begin to fathom why, even as she acknowledged to herself how much more comfortable it made her.
“I’m just going to grab a quick shower,” Terri said, backing towards the kitchen door, “and then I’ll put some fresh tea on, yes?”
The smell of coffee woke her. She opened her eyes as the scent wafted strongly past her nostrils. In the next moment, the bed dipped beside her and she turned to see Terri perched on the edge of it.
“Hey,” Terri said, a hesitant smile on her lips. “Didn’t think I should let you sleep too much longer.”
“What time is it?” Alex asked, her voice croaky from sleep.
“Just after one. You’ve had about three hours.”
“Great.” She rubbed at her eyes. Breakfast had been awkward, only made easier by Alex recounting stories of what Montreal was like in the snow, and the meetings and training sessions she’d shared. After they’d eaten, Alex had made her excuses and climbed into bed; she definitely needed more sleep if she was going to survive the day.
Terri smiled again, but there was a twitchiness to her body, her gaze again darting to Alex and away, as it had earlier.
Pushing herself upright to lean against the headboard, Alex reached for the coffee Terri had placed on the bedside table. “Thanks,” she said, raising the mug to her mouth.
“You’re welcome.” Terri rubbed absently at the back of her neck.
“So how was your week? You haven’t said much about it.”
“Oh, it was good. Yeah. Really good.” Terri stood suddenly and opened the wardrobe. “Did you get out much in the evenings in Montreal?”
Alex was beyond glad Terri had her back to her at that moment, but she still willed herself not to flush. “Not much. Wasn’t that sort of trip.”
Was this how Terri had felt, in that week after she first slept with Liz, before telling Alex? The gnawing dread in her insides at the lies she was already having to tell to cover her tracks? The fear that something in her eyes, or a blush across her cheeks, would give her away? Alex was horrified at the level of anxiety already coursing through her body. How would she keep this up until she felt able to sit down and talk properly with Terri? Given how awful keeping this secret was making her feel, she’d barely make it to the end of the day.
She sighed. They were like strangers, making polite small talk, not being able to look at each other. It was almost amusing, yet unbearably sad.
“You hungry?” Terri asked into the awkward silence, turning to face Alex again.
“I could eat.”
“Want to go out for lunch? Those croissants were okay, but I could do with something substantial. I wondered about that new Mexican place up in the Village.”
Alex nodded. “Sounds great.” Being out of the flat might help—having other people around, things to observe and talk about, given that they didn’t seem to know what to converse about otherwise.
They walked up to the Village. It was a good stretch of the legs that Alex needed. The extra sleep had helped, but her head was still woolly from jet lag. It was a typical November day in London—grey clouds scudded across the sky, the breeze fresh but nowhere near as cold as in Montreal. They talked about inconsequential things—the weather, football, what food they hoped to eat shortly. It was a tad more comfortable than they’d been in the flat, but not by much, and Alex was panicking that lunch would be a stumbling fiasco of long pauses and stilted words. At the same time, she was grateful for the distraction of their surroundings because she definitely wasn’t awake enough to have “the talk” with Terri today.
The Mexican restaurant was busy, but they were seated quickly, not too far from the front window, and were soon perusing menus.
“Great, they do the enchiladas I was craving,” Terri said.
Alex smiled. “And the chimichanga that I like too. I’m too jet-lagged to have worked out what else to eat if that wasn’t on the menu.”
Terri smiled, and it was the easiest they’d been with each other since the day started.
The waitress appeared and they ordered their food. Just as she walked off, Terri’s phone rang.
“Sorry,” she said, glancing at the display. “I need to get this.” She stood and walked out of the restaurant, talking animatedly. Alex watched her go, wondering who was calling her at lunchtime on a Saturday. Presumably work. Terri had looked tired when she’d brought the coffee to Alex, her eyes sporting hints of dark circles beneath them. Maybe she’d thrown herself into her work during the week as a distraction from all that was wrong between them.
She glanced out of the window and her heart rate picked up a notch. Terri was gesticulating wildly with her free hand, the other keeping her mobile pressed closed to her ear. Alex wasn’t an expert at lip-reading, but the words not now were easy to pick up before Terri turned away from Alex’s view and took a couple of paces away from the restaurant. Alex sipped her lemonade, her mind swirling but her tiredness preventing her from latching on to any particular conclusion about what she’d just witnessed.
Two minutes later Terri was back at the table.
“Sorry, work again.”
Alex frowned. “Even you don’t work Saturdays that often. What’s going on?”
Terri flushed. “Well, since Liz moved teams—” she flushed even more “—we’ve been down a person on the contracts side. Now this big deal’s cropped up and there aren’t enough of us to do everything.”
Alex had flinched only slightly at the mention of Liz’s name, immediately dismissing any jealousy she might feel given the new circumstances they faced.
“It must be some deal,” she commented, moving them past the awkward moment.
Terri launched rapidly into a narrative of what she was working on, and Alex breathed an inward sigh of relief as their lunch date settled into something entirely impersonal.
Justine listened to the voicemail with a frown. Christina this time. Sylvie had called last night. Justine was avoiding them, and they knew it. She hadn’t spoken to either of them since Sylvie had told her that she couldn’t make it to Gabrielle’s on Tuesday.
Right before Justine took Alex home and her week got shot to hell.
The message from Christina was much blunter than Sylvie’s had been, her tone short.
“If you don’t call us we’re going to kick your door down. Stop hiding and talk to us.”
A reluctant smile spread across her face. Knowing Christina, she really would kick the door down, probably wearing those big motorcycle boots she lived in throughout the winter.
Justine huffed out a breath and sat back on the bed. She’d only just woken and it was already noon; her Friday night had passed by in a blur of one too many beers, a large pizza, a couple of movies she’d found on Netflix, and finished with a few chapters of a book until the small hours of the morning. She’d tried everything she could to fill her mind with anything except images of Alex. Seeing her that afternoon as she waited for her cab to the airport had only intensified Justine’s confusing maelstrom of thoughts about the woman. Even across three lanes of busy road, the connection between them had been ridiculously intense. Alex’s words from Thursday continued to rattle through her brain; she struggled to remember to be angry at Alex for what she’d done.
She stared at her phone. She ought to talk to her friends, if for no other reason than to tell them she was okay. But telling them everything that happened this week was overdue too; she knew that.
She breathed out slowly, then typed a text to Christina.
How about a late lunch today? My place?
They arrived just after two, both wearing concerned looks as Justine opened the door.
“Hey, I’m okay. Really,” Justine said, guilt eating at her as they stared at her. She ushered them in. “It’s been a crazy week,” she said as they peeled off their coats
and she hung them up.
Sylvie pulled her into a hug, and Justine clung on harder than she would have imagined. Christina was next, although she backed up her hug with the words “Don’t shut us out again. We’re your friends” whispered sharply in her ear.
Justine smiled as she pulled away. “Yes, ma’am.”
They walked through to the kitchen, and her guests leaned against the small breakfast bar while she busied herself opening the wine they’d brought. When they each had a glass in hand, the questions started.
“Where have you been all week?”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Whoa, guys. Give me a chance to answer!”
Christina gave Justine a stern look while Sylvie looked sheepish. Justine gestured towards the living room and they all settled on the couch.
She exhaled a long, slow breath. “On Tuesday, at Gabrielle’s, Alex and I talked a lot over dinner, and through a couple of glasses of wine. It was…really good.” She blinked. “We had a lot in common, and we made each other laugh. It felt…wonderful, to be making that kind of connection with someone again, just like you said.” She glanced at Sylvie, who gave her a small smile. “Then, suddenly, she got up to leave. I didn’t think I’d done or said anything to scare her off—” Christina snorted softly “—but she seemed really keen to get out of there. I asked her why, and she said she was tired, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes.” Justine dared a glance at Sylvie, whose face was a mask of serenity, even as her eyes narrowed. “I…I didn’t want to say goodnight. I was having such a good time. I persuaded her to stay out a little longer, and took her dancing at the drag bar.”
Sylvie shifted slightly but her face remained masklike. Christina raised her eyebrows.
