Chapter Twenty-One
Henry
I’m in my room for over fifteen minutes before there’s a knock at my door.
My heart races as I open it. “Thought you weren’t coming,” I say as casually as I can when she slips past me.
“People kept arriving,” she replies. “It’s busy out there.”
I close the door and follow her across the room. She’s still wearing her sari, wrapped up like a beautiful Christmas present for me. My heart swells at the knowledge that she came—she wants to be with me.
She goes up to the window and looks out at the view. The city lights sparkle like stars. In the hotel across from us, where the occupants haven’t drawn their curtains, we can see into the rooms, catching a glimpse of people going about their lives—eating, talking, watching TV.
“It was such a magical day, wasn’t it?” she whispers. “Damon and Belle looked so happy.”
“Yeah, I’m glad it went well for them.”
She turns to face me. “You were magnificent.”
I smile, touched by the compliment. “Well, thank you.”
“I mean it.” She moves closer to me, rests her hand on my chest, and begins to undo my shirt buttons, her eyes turning sultry. “I watched you dancing with all those women, and I just kept thinking, in a few hours’ time, his mouth is going to be between my legs.”
Heat sears through me as if I’ve drunk a bucketful of lava. “Damn straight.”
She laughs and splays her hands on my chest as I pull her toward me and crush my lips to hers.
I’ve watched her all day, moving through the guests, beautiful and exotic as a tropical flower, and I’m hungry for her. But when I go to undo the pins holding her sari in place, I make myself go slow, not wanting to damage the precious fabric.
I unwrap her deliberately, making her turn in a circle as I peel the material from her, revealing her pretty blue vest and petticoat. As I undo the tie of the petticoat, she glances over her shoulder and says, “We should draw the curtains.”
I shake my head, loosening the tie and lowering the petticoat so she can step out of it. “I want everyone to see us and think how lucky I am to be with such a beautiful woman.”
“Oh,” she says, her eyes widening. I take the bottom of her vest and peel it up her body, revealing that she’s not wearing a bra, and I toss the vest aside. Now she’s just wearing a small, lacy pair of knickers, and I soon divest her of those, leaving her naked except for her high-heeled sandals.
Moving her so she’s up against the glass, I then drop to my knees in front of her. “Henry!” she scolds, genuinely shocked, but I lift one of her legs over my shoulder, dip my head, and slide my tongue into her warm flesh.
Oh man, she’s already moist and swollen, and I groan as I lick through her folds and circle my tongue over her clit. Her fingers tighten in my hair, and she says, “Oh my God,” but she doesn’t push me away. Encouraged, I move a hand beneath her, turn it palm up, and slide two fingers inside her, and she lets her head fall back onto the glass and gives a long, heartfelt moan.
She was obviously telling the truth when she said she’s been thinking about this for a while, because it doesn’t take long at all to reach the point where her breaths turn uneven, and I know she’s close to the edge. I love making her come with my mouth, but I’m keyed up and hot for her, and so I get to my feet, grab my wallet and extract a condom, release my erection from my boxers, and roll the condom on.
“Here?” she says with a gasp.
“So everyone can watch.” I lift her up and wrap her legs around my waist. Then, pressing her back up against the glass, I lower her until I feel the tip of my erection enter her. I hold her there for a moment and kiss her until I feel her relax a little. Then I lower her down, a centimeter at a time, until she’s completely impaled on me.
“Ah, fuck.” She tips her head back on the glass, fighting for breath.
“All right, baby?” I kiss her jaw, her ear, and her neck, doing my best not to move as I wait for her to adjust.
“Mmm… yeah… oh that’s good.”
My lips curving up against her skin, I start to move with long, rhythmical thrusts, kissing her all the while, nice and slow, until we’re both coated in her moisture, and I’m slipping easily inside her.
Only then do I begin to speed up. It’s impossible to hold back, and I know she’s not far from coming anyway, so before long I give in to the urge to thrust hard, driving deep inside her and grunting with pleasure each time I sink into her softness.
“Oh God, Henry,” she says, pressing her hands against the window and leaving hot prints on the glass. “Oh, oh, oh…”
“Come for me,” I demand, speeding up, and she tightens her legs around me and cries out, driving me insane. “Fuck, yeah…”
She comes with a squeal, clenching so tightly that I give a helpless groan. I thrust her all the way through it, hanging on as long as I can, then come too, shuddering and sighing, and filled with joy at just having her here, in my arms, and being inside her.
I hold her there for a while, as our bodies calm. Then, gently, I withdraw from her and lower her legs to the ground.
“I’m all wobbly,” she whispers.
“Me too.” I quickly dispose of the condom, tuck myself back in, and zip up my trousers. I pick her up and deposit her on the mattress, and strip off my clothes. Then I slide under the duvet and gather her up in my arms.
“Do you think anyone saw us?” she whispers.
“Almost certainly.” I chuckle. “I hope they enjoyed the view.”
“You are so wicked.”
“You could have said no.”
“Like you’d have taken any notice.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Maybe we should have a safe word, just in case.”
“Pineapple?” she suggests.
I look up at the ceiling. “No. Something else.”
She’s quiet then, and I wonder whether she’s thinking about the time she once suggested to us all in the office that we have a safe word in the bedroom. It obviously meant that she and Cam had used one, and at the time I remember feeling a flare of jealousy.
She lifts up and leans on my chest to look into my eyes. “It wasn’t for me,” she says, so clearly she was thinking about it.
I take a strand of her hair and run it between my fingers. “Okay.” I guess she’s saying that it was Cam’s safe word for whatever he asked her to do to him. Jesus. Each to their own and all that, but I’m old fashioned enough to believe it’s the guy’s job to please the girl, and I don’t like to think of what she’s had to go through. No wonder the poor girl looks haunted half the time.
“I want to say goodbye to that life.” She speaks vehemently. “All this time I didn’t know why I was so unhappy, but you’ve shown me what love can be like, and this is what I want.”
“You can have it as often as you like,” I tell her. “I’ll just have to eat more steak.”
That makes her laugh, and she snuggles up to me again. “I love the way you are,” she murmurs, drawing a finger through the hairs on my chest. “You’re so warm and open.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Shaz always said I was a closed book.”
“I don’t think of you like that. I know you don’t want to burden people with your problems, but that’s different to hiding things. I don’t find you secretive. And I like that.”
I skate my fingers over her back, loving the warmth of her body close to mine.
“Why the big sigh?” she says.
“I’m sad to be going back tomorrow. It’s been a good few days.”
“I know what you mean. But I’m glad in a way. I want to get things sorted.”
I don’t reply, because I don’t want to demand to know when she’s going to talk to him, and what she’s going to say. I don’t want to push her. But when sleep overcomes us, I dream of losing my way in a misty forest. The future is unclear, and all I can do is hope.
*
Juliette
The next day, we fly home. When we get to Christchurch, we walk out of the airport with the others and wave goodbye to Gaby and Tyson.
“What’s going on with James and Aroha?” I ask when they stay behind to chat.
“He told me she’s in some kind of financial trouble, so she’s going to be coming into the office in the New Year to help us prepare for the conference.”
“Oh yes,” I say, “I forgot about Sydney. It’s about three weeks away, right?”
“Yeah, but we’ve got a lot to do for it. I’m going into the office tomorrow actually and so’s Tyson, I think, to get started on it.”
I tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. I wish I could kiss him, but I’m conscious that someone could be watching, so I restrain myself.
We stand there awkwardly, just looking at each other, a world of emotion passing between us, but unable to vocalize it. I want to promise him that this will all be over soon, but my coming conversation with Cam is looming like a tidal wave. Something tells me he’s not going to take it lying down. He’s going to make it difficult for me, and I can’t think about anything past that.
“When’s your first day?” Henry asks.
“Next Monday, the eighth.” The office is officially closed before then, although the guys are all going in to start work on the conference.
“Okay. Will I see you before then?”
“I hope so.” It’s the best I can do.
He frowns. “Are you feeling okay? You look tired.”
“That’s because someone wore me out last night,” I scold. Then I sigh. “Just a bit of PMS.” It’s the truth—I’m due around Thursday, and I feel achy and tired, and my boobs are tender. Although I acknowledge that might also be from all the action I’ve had over the last few days.
“Ah. I’m sorry,” he says.
“Eh, it’s no big deal. Well, I’d better go. Stay in touch, okay?”
“Yeah. Take care of yourself.”
I watch him walk over to his Uber and get in, and before long it’s pulling away.
With a sigh, I get into mine, and the driver’s soon heading into the city. The gray sky mirrors my mood. It’s New Year’s Eve tonight, and I wish I could spend it with him. But he told me he’s heading over to his family, hopefully to patch things up with his brother, and I’m going over to my parents’ house. So it’s a matter of waiting until I’ve sorted myself out, and we can finally be together.
When I get to the apartment, I let myself in. It’s cool and quiet, and Cam’s not there, to my relief. I unpack and put some washing on, make myself a cup of coffee, then take it to the sofa and pull out my phone. It’s time to call Cam.
I don’t want to break up with him over the phone, but it would be impossible to do it in person. I’m just not strong enough. So I’m going to have to do my best.
My stomach churns, because I know this isn’t going to be easy. I feel sick, and I’m already near tears. Not, I think, because I’m breaking up with him, but because I can’t bear to face the emotional recriminations and blackmail I know are coming. But there’s no way around it. I have to do it. For Henry.
I dial his number and wait, heart pounding.
He answers after a few rings. “Lettie!” It’s his pet name for me. I’ve never liked it.
“Hey,” I say softly.
“Are you back?” he asks.
“Yeah, got in about half an hour ago.”
“I’m so sorry I haven’t called you,” he says, “but I didn’t want to spoil the wedding for you.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“It’s been an awful few days here. Jesus, where to start? Alan left on Thursday, and Pete flew out on Friday morning, so Mum and Dad were already a bit low. I was going to go back to the apartment, but I decided to stay on a day or two and spend some time with them. Then yesterday we got a call from Alan’s wife—he had a heart attack on the fucking plane, just before it landed.”
My jaw drops. “A heart attack? He’s only thirty!” I’m not totally surprised—Alan is overweight, smokes, does no exercise, and drinks like a fish, but even so, it’s still quite shocking.
“I know, what are the fucking odds? They rushed him to hospital and he’s having surgery today.”
“Jesus, I’m so sorry. How’s your mum?”
“Well that’s the thing…” I hear footsteps and the sound of a sliding door opening—he’s going into the garden. The door slides shut before he speaks. “She totally lost the plot yesterday. So upset. We had to call the doctor to come and sedate her. She’s a bit better today, but it was awful—she was hysterical, crying non-stop.”
“Oh no.”
“Can you come over?” he asks. “You’re so good with her, there’s something calming about you. She’ll be better if you’re here.”
I cover my face with a hand. It’s a terribly selfish thing to think, but this couldn’t be more awful timing. What kind of person would it make me if I tell him I’m breaking up with him now?
“I’m sorry,” he says, “I forgot to ask, how was the wedding?”
I flush as I think about the nights I’ve spent with Henry, his hot mouth searing my skin. The way he had me up against the window, in full view of anyone who cared to look. Oh this is so hard. Why, when I’m with Henry, do I know he’s all I want, but as soon as I’m with Cam I feel as if I’ve cheated on him?
“It was fine,” I say. “Look, I’ll pack a few things and come over. I’ll be there in twenty.”
“Thank you,” he says with relief. “I’ve missed you so much, you know.”
I can’t return the sentiment. “I’ll be there soon, bye.”
I end the call, toss the phone onto the table, flop back onto the sofa, and cover my face with my hands. This is so fucking shit. I’m just the worst person in the universe. Henry is expecting me to end it today. What’s he going to think when I tell him I’m going over there? I’m not going to start our relationship off with a lie. I’m going to have to tell him.
On cue, my phone buzzes on the table, and when I look at the screen I see it’s a message from him.
Thanks for a great time. Miss you already. Happy New Year.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I pick up the phone and dial his number. Then I lie back with a cushion over my face.
“Hello?” he asks. “That was quick.”
I take the cushion off. “Hey. Where are you?”
“At home. Going over to my folks in a few hours. What are you up to?”
I hesitate.
“What’s happened?” he says immediately.
Tears sting my eyes, and I press my fingers to my mouth. “I rang Cam to tell him it was over, and he told me his brother’s had a heart attack in Sydney, and his mum’s had a breakdown. He wants me to go over there, and I couldn’t bring myself to say no. I’m so sorry.” I burst into tears.
I wait for him to get angry. To accuse me of leading him on. To say that if I don’t tell Cam it’s over today, I can forget about a future with him. To tell me I’m weak, and I don’t deserve him.
But it’s Henry I’m talking to, and so he doesn’t say any of those things.
“Baby,” he says, “don’t cry. Come on, of course you couldn’t tell him now. Go and help sort things out. You’ll know when the time is right.”
I try not to sob. “Don’t be nice to me.”
“Aw, hey, everything’s going to be fine. Just don’t have sex with him, okay?”
I give a short laugh. “Yeah, all right.”
“I’ve been there, remember? I know it’s hard. It doesn’t end with a blare of trumpets. It’s more like you’re sailing away from shore where someone’s playing music. You think you’re out of earshot, and then you hear strains of music on the wind. But one day you won’t be able to hear it anymore. You’ll get there.”
I draw up my knees and rest my forehead on them. “How can you be so possessive one minute and so understanding the next?”
“I’m not saying I won’t be yelling every swear word I know when I end this call. I’m frustrated. But with Cam, or Fate, or life I guess, not with you.”
I wipe my cheeks. “Can I call you later?”
“Any time, sweetheart. I’m always here for you.”
“I hope you have a good New Year’s Eve.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not holding out much hope. But you never know.”
“Thank you.”
“Take care of yourself, you hear me? I love you.”
“I love you too,” I say softly. “Bye.” I end the call.
I sit there for a moment, letting my thoughts settle. And I realize he’s right. Just because I’m going over to help Cam doesn’t change anything. Our relationship is still done. It would be cruel to end it right now when he’s suffering. Once things have settled a little, we can have a conversation, but until then I need to be a human being and do what I can to help his family get through this difficult time.
The washing has finished, so I put it in the dryer, then pack a few things just in case I decide to stay overnight. When I’m done, I head for the door and turn to look around at the apartment. Without the lights on, it seems dark and gloomy. It feels as if something has died in it, and I guess that’s kind of the case. Love faded away here, leaving only sadness, and the air is heavy with it.
I go out of the door, and close it behind me.