If I Were You

Chapter 61 Amy

‘Amy … Amy!’

Flynn is hurrying after me in my rumpled maxi dress as I push past a couple emerging for the first breakfast sitting.

‘Come on, Amy!’

As we reach our hotel door I swipe angrily at the key card, just wanting to get inside so I can be alone and wail.

‘Hold on,’ Flynn says, shooting a hand out and squeezing in through the door as well. ‘Amy, come on. I was trying to stop you getting punched again!’

I can’t reply, I can’t even look at him. I’m so angry. I told him to let me handle it with Laura, but of course he flew in, sword at the ready to save the day, and he made everything a million times worse.

I shrug off the dressing gown and head straight to the corner of the room, grabbing my suitcase. Then of course I realize there’s no point grabbing my case because I can’t wear any of my stupid clothes because I’m not me.

This makes me collapse onto the cream armchair in the corner of the room.

I know I’m not just angry about Flynn, although it is a fairly substantial portion of my fury. I’m angry that Laura didn’t believe me, I’m angry that despite assuming she would understand, I couldn’t persuade her. I’m angry about the things she accused me of. And I’m angry because I am still stuck in this body I don’t want to be stuck in, and I don’t know how the hell I’m ever going to get out of it. I close my eyes, only just noticing I’m shivering with cold as Flynn drapes the cashmere throw from the foot of the bed over my shoulders.

‘Amy,’ he says quietly, ‘I am really, really sorry. About everything.’

The energy leaks out of me; the gaping loneliness of a night without him, the bereft feeling I had when my sister wouldn’t listen to me, melts away. ‘I know you are,’ I say, and I’m so sad that we are here on this morning. A morning I’d imagined for months.

About now I was expecting to be waking in the super king size bed, rolling to my side to smile at Flynn who would stroke my face and tell me I’m beautiful, before stroking other places too. After sex that would leave us in a sweaty, happy tangle of limbs we’d order room service and eat breakfast on our balcony, Flynn making my sides hurt laughing, before kissing each other goodbye for me to disappear to that luxurious honeymoon suite to drink from champagne flutes and toast my gorgeous older sister the bride as someone flits around the room doing our hair and make-up and making us look fantastic.

I lost sight of all of that in the last few weeks but now it’s all I want; this foreign body I’m in aches with it.

‘I can’t believe this,’ I say, wearily standing up from the chair and grabbing one of Flynn’s T-shirts without bothering to ask.

‘I know,’ Flynn says, ‘it’s mad.’

As I pull the T-shirt down over my head I say it out loud, ‘So, I’m leaving.’

Flynn’s jaw drops open. ‘You can’t.’ He looks a state. Hair greasy and knotted, green dress torn at the hem, he’s managed to chip one of my perfect nails, my make-up entirely smudged or worn away. He really isn’t taking care of my body; I look like I’ve had about two hours’ sleep.

‘I can. I need to … look,’ I say, motioning between us. ‘She thinks I’m you so she’ll be pissed off with you, and I can’t be here like this,’ I say, looking down at Flynn’s body. ‘I can’t, I can’t, I can’t …’

‘Hey, it’s OK,’ he says, crossing the room and trying to hug me.

‘Don’t, Flynn. I don’t want to keep screwing up Laura’s wedding but mostly,’ I swallow and look him in the eye as I admit, ‘I don’t want to be here with you.’

He looks as if I’ve struck him, his eyes wide and filled with pain.

‘You don’t get to make me feel bad, Flynn,’ I say, angrily wiping my own tear away. ‘Don’t give me that look when you’ve been lying to me forever.’

‘You lied too,’ Flynn points out, a weak attempt to get back at me. ‘With Jay, what’s “that night” about?’

‘A tiny lie,’ I say, throwing up my hands. ‘Just something I didn’t want to share. That night you invited him to meet us in the pub. Well you were late and he didn’t know who I was, and he asked for my number.’

‘He was there to see me. To meet you!’ Flynn says, aghast.

‘And he realised the moment he asked my name, so I didn’t say anything. And I knew if Laura found out she might feel funny about it. But he was totally smitten with Laura the moment we introduced them, anyone could see it. So I told him to forget it happened, because I knew telling Laura might hurt her. But now you’ve swept in and told her anyway. On her wedding day. I didn’t lie about, hmm, let me see …’ I put a finger to my lips, ‘HAVING AN ACTUAL CHILD.’

Heat rises again as I feel the injustice of him levelling accusations at me.

‘I’m not sure any more that we can work, Flynn. I know you love me, but it’s made me realize I don’t know you, and I need to know and trust the person I’m meant to be with forever.’

Flynn takes a breath, meets my eye. ‘Look, normally, as you know, I’d dive in and tell you you’re wrong but,’ he takes a breath and straightens, ‘I get it. I know I have to change.’

This admission surprises me, it’s so unlike Flynn to reflect on things.

He looks utterly broken. ‘Are you really leaving?’ he asks in a small voice. ‘What if I told you everything about Charlie?’

Pain twists my gut. I’m not sure I’m ready to have this relationship end, but I don’t say anything like that. I don’t dare. ‘Would it make a difference?’ I ask.

Flynn looks at me with an expression I rarely see on his face: absolute sincerity. ‘I think so,’ he says.

An age passes as I take in his bedraggled, sad appearance.

‘OK,’ I agree.

He breathes out quickly, reaching over and adjusting the cashmere throw around my shoulders.

‘Hey,’ he says, ‘this throw really brings out the colours of your bruise.’

In spite of myself, I laugh.