Chapter 36 Aurora
Aurora
Bath is such a beautiful city. The perfect place to come for a weekend away from London. To walk the streets with a lover, visit the thermal baths at dusk, then drink champagne beneath the stars.
It’s not the place to lick your wounds after suffering a betrayal so huge that your entire body physically aches like every cell in it has been broken.
I sigh and take a sip of lukewarm coffee.
The wooden bench beneath my legs is cold and unwelcoming, despite the clear blue sky and warm sun.
It’s like everything has ceased to exist in the same way.
Things have lost their flavour. The sun has lost its warmth.
A few days ago the world was multicoloured, a kaleidoscope of glittering possibilities.
But all that stopped the moment I found out about Rafael’s lies.
Hearing his confession brought memories bubbling to the surface.
The hard slam of the judge’s gavel, sealing my father’s fate.
The sag of his shoulders as they led him away without letting me hug him.
The look of guilt in his eyes like it was his fault that he was leaving me.
And all that time, Rafael had played a part in putting him behind bars.
All those times he kissed me, told me he loved me, did he ever feel an ounce of remorse? I guess I’ll never know.
I haven’t been able to bring myself to reply to his countless texts or listen to his voicemails.
Blocking his number seemed like the kindest thing I could do for myself.
Because if I speak to him, I don’t know what I’ll say.
I have no words that can fully describe the extent to which he’s hurt me.
Because he has. He’s torn me apart and left me in pieces.
And yet, I still love him with every fibre in my body.
I still cry myself to sleep at night, missing him so much that my stomach churns with nausea.
It’s a physical torment, thinking about how safe I felt inside in his arms. But it was all a lie.
I preferred when he was an arsehole with his snide comments about my father.
At least that was honest, and I knew where I stood with him.
Now? Now I have no idea what to believe any more.
I toss the remnants of the tasteless coffee into the bin beside the bench, then pull out my phone and bring up the email. I’ve opened the attachment on it more times than I can count. I can recite every single word, yet re-read it multiple times a day to torture myself.
Actions of an astute and calculating individual. Someone with the ability to deceive and manipulate.
Bile lodges in my throat as I read Rafael’s words. He says he was only doing his job.
His words are the farthest likeness from my father they could possibly be. But they describe another man down to a tee.
‘He’s describing himself. Bastard,’ I mutter quietly, willing myself not to cry again.
I shove my phone back into my bag and start walking. It only takes ten minutes to get to where I need to be.
‘Good morning,’ the concierge greets as I pass him on my way inside the hotel.
‘Good morning,’ I reply, forcing a friendly smile. He seems like a nice man. He was telling me about his two grandsons yesterday, and how they love to sail remote-controlled boats on the lake near his house.
I head downstairs to the staff changing area, shoving my bag inside my locker and putting on my uniform.
Cleaning people’s houses was a breeze compared to hotel rooms. I can’t get over how disgusting people can be.
Bedsheets covered in wet patches of God-knows-what, foul-smelling lumps in shower drains, used condoms left on the floor.
The hotel is beautiful. Luxurious and expensive.
But people still behave like uncivilised slobs behind its closed, ornate doors.
What was it Rafael said? Loaded people have loaded secrets?
Turns out some of them also have no consideration for housekeeping staff. Money can’t buy manners.
Heading to the staff office to check in for my shift and get my room assignments, I pull my shoulders back, forcing myself to look on the bright side.
I have a job I can do alongside my vlogging.
And they’re paying a decent amount, which I know is probably due to who helped me get this job in the first place.
And I have a lovely furnished, one-bedroomed city-centre apartment to stay in for a few weeks whilst I decide what to do.
And the train only takes two hours to go and see my father on visiting days.
I’m lucky.
My heart might be shattered, and my mind might be back in London with the man I still love, even if I’m not sure whether I ever really knew him at all. But I’m here, and I’m okay. I have more than I did when my father was first locked up and our home was taken from us.
Rafael Fairfax might have deceived me, but I won’t let him take everything from me.
I’ve been broken once before.
And I refuse to be broken again.