. . . a night alone
‘That was mortifying,’ I say.
Noah grins. ‘It was hilarious.’
‘Everyone was staring at us!’
Noah ran off almost immediately after we left the café as he was going to be late for his afternoon meeting, so this is the first chance we’ve had to debrief since the incident earlier today.
He looks up. ‘And so they should. Watching you get engaged to me is like witnessing someone win the lottery.’
‘You think you won the lottery with our engagement?’ My lip starts to curl.
‘No, I think you did. I’m a catch and you should be so lucky,’ he says.
I throw a balled-up pair of socks at him and giggle as they knock against his temple. He shakes his head back at me with a bemused smirk.
‘You’ve got to admit it was fun,’ he says, folding his jeans.
I’ve had enough time away from the incident to cycle through a flurry of emotions. I went from joy to confusion to a sprinkle of something I dared not focus on, especially after our kiss. But I have settled on worry. I can’t think about fun. I’m too focused on the worst-case scenario.
‘Timothy follows me online! He’ll know we lied. What if he posts it all over the internet?’ I ask.
Noah shakes his head with no fear. ‘Last thing he’ll want to do is shout about a beautiful girl rejecting him. And follow-wise, just block him. I guarantee you, once you’re out of sight he’ll forget about you in like, less than a week.’
My chest lightens ever so slightly, my mind freed of my worries quickly enough to digest Noah’s last sentence.
‘Less than a week? You think I’m that forgettable?’
He pauses his packing to stare across at me, into my eyes. My pulse quickens.
‘I wouldn’t have got down on one knee for someone I thought was forgettable, Amorie,’ he says gravely.
My mind drifts back to the kiss – to his hands on my waist and the way he stared at me as he confessed his love. It was fake – I know it was – I was in on the joke, but I know the way my heart fluttered. That wasn’t so false.
‘Even as a joke?’ I ask, my mouth going dry.
‘Even as a joke,’ he says, smile gaining some levity. ‘Speaking of, any chance I could get that ring back? I wasn’t joking about those being real diamonds.’
I wiggle my beautifully bejewelled finger in the space between us as he shuffles closer to me.
Our eyes meet again as he closes his warm hand delicately around mine.
His fingers stroke softly down my skin as he slides the ring off, leaving a trail of goosebumps in place of everything he touches.
It’s unbearably slow. Excruciating, even.
My breathing halts until the ring is back in his hand.
‘Wow, that fit perfectly.’ He tucks it back in his pocket. ‘Guess it’s a sign we’re meant to be.’
He needs to stop winking. It’s not good for me. Not when the two of us are meant to be friends. I need to focus on something else . . . like a story.
‘So, do you make a habit of carrying engagement rings round with you?’ I ask.
‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ he mumbles as he scoots back to his duffle.
There he goes again, closing up before we’ve made real progress. I sit up straighter.
‘Okay, so there’s definitely a story . . .’
‘Or I could just be done with this conversation.’
I start to guess. ‘Did you steal it? Win it in a bet? Were you previously engaged?’
‘Drop it, Am,’ he says brusquely.
The weight behind his words takes me aback, casting a stale and uncomfortable silence around the room. He notes it instantly, looking over my shocked face with concern, before glancing down and softening.
‘It’s honestly not worth getting into.’
I nod silently and go back to folding my clothes. So much for my light distraction.
‘Right, I need to get a move on. I have a date in an hour and I wanted to shower first,’ he says, checking his watch.
‘Tonight? Since when?’ I ask.
Again, with the secrets. We’ve spent so much time together and not once has he mentioned any upcoming dates. It stings a little. I dip my eyes back to my case and fold my maxi-skirt in four.
‘You’re not the only one with a life, you know,’ he says teasingly.
‘Yes, but I’m apparently the only one that seems to share with the class,’ I say softly.
I wonder how many other secret dates he’s been on, because clearly if he can keep this one hidden then he could hide anything.
The man sits me down at least twice a day to debrief after my dates, or to discuss strategy for my next ones, and he couldn’t find one spare moment to let me know that he plans to go on a date of his own?
It’s not like I care – of course I don’t care – I’m here to help him find love. But how can I possibly help if he won’t share with me? This doesn’t work if it’s all one-sided.
‘We’ve been chatting for a couple of days. I was supposed to go out with her this weekend, but since we’re now leaving tomorrow I’ve managed to move it to tonight,’ he says plainly.
They’ve been chatting for a couple of days.
Which means, for the last couple of days everything I’ve known about him has been a lie.
He got down on one knee for me today, with his super-secret mysterious diamond ring, and then proceeded to knock the air out of me with one grand, sweeping kiss.
But he didn’t have time to mention the girl he’s been chatting to for a couple days?
I feel the makings of a scream compound in my chest.
‘Where are you going?’ I ask.
It comes out robotically, but honestly that beats how it sounded in my head.
‘The thermal baths. We planned to go to this nightclub thing there, but they only do it on Saturdays. However, she has a connect so I’m getting an out-of-hours tour; we’ve got the whole place to ourselves. It should be pretty cool.’ He shrugs.
‘A connect at the thermal baths? Who is this magical girl and where on earth did you meet her?’ I ask.
I try to make it sound nonchalant, but I unfortunately don’t know how.
I’ve already tried to envision what she looks like, despite having no physical description at all.
I wonder what her laugh will sound like when she inevitably caves at one of his jokes.
I wonder if she’ll hear material that he hasn’t bothered using on me.
‘Are you jealous?’ he asks, clocking my furrowed brow.
I can’t be. I hold my breath and shake my head. He visibly relaxes.
‘Good, I was gonna say. You propose to a girl one time and suddenly she expects you to stop seeing other people – it’s too much,’ he says jokingly.
‘Oh, shut up!’ I yell at him as he laughs. ‘Go and get ready for your date.’
Within thirty minutes he’s out of the shower, in a fresh outfit and out of the door.
The room is silent and the walls look barer.
There’s no soft thud of his feet against the laminate flooring.
I glance towards his bed, messily made from the morning, a small dip left from when he last sat on the edge of it.
Suddenly I’m all alone in our room for two, with nothing but my laptop and the quiet sounds of the street below.
It’s weird to think that pre-Noah I planned to do this entire trip completely on my own.
Now here I am, alone for a few hours at most and I feel like a part of me is missing.
I try to shut out the gnawing in my gut and remind myself that it’s only been fifteen minutes.
Perhaps we’ve become too codependent – perhaps this time is good for us.
Perhaps he should run off into the sunset with his Thermal Bath Girl and live happily ever after . . .
I feel bile physically rise in my stomach at the thought of the two of them hitting it off at the baths.
Him in his trunks, her in a tiny bikini I’m sure, and a whole empty thermal bath to themselves.
It’s a recipe for danger . . . a very specific danger that he is supposed to avoid at all costs. I whip out my phone immediately.
Have fun with Thermal Girl tonight! Remember rule #6 – no sex unless I say so xxx
I’m pathetic. Who do I think I am and what on earth do I think I’m doing? Delete.
I blame Mala. Her words clearly took their time to seep into my brain and convince me of something that just isn’t true. Noah is my friend. We are friends. Friends with clear missions at hand that absolutely don’t involve entanglements with each other.
I rush out of bed to grab my headphones and laptop, before returning to prop myself against the headboard. I need peace – a sanctuary. A world that will nurse me back from the brink of insanity. I open up a fresh doc and cast my mind back to when today was simpler.
Date 11 – The Flippant Follower
Before I get into this cracker of a date, I thought I’d take a moment to address this man directly.
Mr Flippant Follower, if you read this, I’m sorry. No hard feelings. But let’s be honest, you totally deserve it.