Chapter Fourteen
As the sun drops below the horizon, the ancient city is swallowed up by shadows that consume the narrow alleyways.
We take turns popping into shops to source a fresh change of clothes, and after that we enjoy an evening walk exploring the city.
We stop off for cocktails at this little bar tucked into the old walls, watching the waves shimmer under the amber sky.
“So, your honeymoon, huh?”
I groan but it’s half-hearted now I’m suitably tipsy. It’s not the same as the other night. I’m not panicking as he brings up this conversation. I’m not drowning in the betrayal. I’m looser now, almost relaxed about it. That horrible sinking feeling but a whisper in my gut.
“Yeah. The most romantic trip of my life,” I say sarcastically.
“I think it’s great that you came anyway.”
“I nearly didn’t.”
“And that would’ve been a tragedy. You wouldn’t have seen this view, sipping a delicious cocktail in excellent company,” he points out, nodding at our absolutely divine surroundings.
“Again, is somebody else here that I don’t know about?”
He smirks, taking a sip, his eyes never leaving mine.
I sigh. “I just can’t believe I didn’t clue on, you know?
” Because that’s the real crux of the issue.
Two months on, the heartbreak, embarrassment and betrayal is subsiding.
But in its wake I’m left with this sense of having let myself down for missing it, for not reacting the way I wanted to in the moment, for allowing him to hurt me. “I’m so fucking angry with myself.”
Gus shakes his head, putting his glass down. “How could you have known?”
I shrug. “Maybe I worked too hard. Maybe I wasn’t around enough. Maybe I just didn’t open my eyes and see what was happening right in front of me?”
He nods like it adds up. “I know how you feel,” he says. “I’ve been in the same position.”
“You have?” I don’t know why this surprises me. I guess I thought nobody would cheat on a celebrity. Clearly, I’m very wrong.
He makes a dismissive face like it’s nothing to him anymore. “My skin grew tough pretty quickly in this industry but I learnt one important thing.”
I lean forward, resting my chin in my hands. “And what’s that?”
“You can only control what you do. How you react. The things you say. The way you treat others. It’s the only part you own.
I used to think people did things because of the way I acted.
I’d be let down and immediately place that blame on myself.
” He twists his lips. “I changed how I acted and they still let me down. Because it didn’t matter what I did.
It was never about me, it was about them. ”
“So you’re saying I shouldn’t blame myself?”
“I’m saying, if you’d done everything differently, it might’ve still ended the same way. I know it’s easier said than done, trust me I do, but assigning his actions to him and making him accountable in your own mind will help you.”
I swallow. “I’m plenty angry with him. I realised on the wedding day that even if it was only messages between him and his colleague; it was already betrayal.
Especially with all the things he said about me, acting like I was ruining his life by being an uptight workaholic who never had time for him.
That I was impossible to be around. He never said any of this to my face.
I felt blindsided. In the end, it didn’t matter if it had gone further than that.
He’d already lost me. So, I never asked. ”
Gus nods like he’s impressed.
“What?”
“I’m just impressed by you, that’s all.”
*
The room we’ve booked is up a narrow alleyway which is essentially a quarter of a mile of steps.
My whole body wilts before I remember this is nothing compared to the challenges I’ve faced in my life and pull myself together.
By the time we reach the building we’re both out of breath.
Me more so. And my ankle feels like it’s made of sugar paper.
Obviously, I don’t voice any of this. I don’t want him to think I’m complaining.
Gus types the code into the box that releases the key, then we climb more steps. Four flights to be exact. He opens the door, and we find ourselves in a clean, cosy loft room that might be nice if it wasn’t the same temperature as the fiery pits of hell.
“Ah,” Gus says. “I just worked out why this was available at such short notice.”
“Is it because it rivals Dante’s Inferno?”
“More like the fiery pits of Mount Doom.” Gus strides across the room, ducking to avoid banging his head on the low beamed ceilings. “Ooh there’s a fan.” He clicks it on, and we both stand there, dripping in sweat as it burps and hiccups to life.
“Turn it off, Popstar. The engine in that thing will make this room even hotter cause that isn’t doing sod all.”
“Give it a second. It might warm up.”
“Exactly. That’s what I’m afraid of.”
He concedes, switching it off at the wall.
Once we’ve plonked our bags down and gotten used to the cramped space, we take turns in the bathroom.
It’s just as tight in here – I have to sidestep into the shower.
Once I turn the water on, I can’t seem to make it cold enough.
It’s tepid at best. I dry off then dress into some clean knickers and pull the J4S black t-shirt back on, as it’s practically a nightie anyway, before running a brush through my wet hair and pulling it over one shoulder.
Back in the room Gus is frowning at his phone in deep thought.
“Everything alright?” I ask. My brain skips straight to the part where he’s been found out, his team are on the way to get him, and I’ll be stranded alone again. I should be fine with that, but something squeezes somewhere. Something crazy, like I’d miss him. Or miss the company, at least.
He glances up quickly like he forgot I was there.
His eyes snag on my bare legs for half a second before he finds my eyes and smiles.
“Fine,” he says. But it feels so forced, I can’t be sure.
He takes his turn to shower and when he comes back out any trace of upset is gone.
It’s slightly cooler now that the sun has set and the windows are open, but not by much.
I settle on the lumpy bed, eyelids heavy, mumble good night and kill the lights.
It’s then that I hear Gus’s broken breathing as he fidgets on his carefully laid-out blanket and pillows.
“Are you ok?” I whisper in the darkness.
“Mmm. Fine,” he says, utterly unconvincingly.
“Are you hurt?”
“Nope.”
“Gus,” I warn. “I’m a big sister. I have a sixth sense for this stuff. I can tell something is wrong with you.”
“I’m ok, Sara,” he says but his voice is so schooled I can tell he’s lying.
I sit up and glare down at his long silhouette on the ground. I close my eyes for a second as I feel my brain trip over itself with compassion. I could be so powerful if I just stopped caring. Think of the things I could do. “Gus. Would you like to swap?”
He laughs, a strained sound. “Sara, I could be dying and I would still insist you had the bed.”
“Why?”
“Because…”
“I’m a woman?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Were you going to? Is it because you’re infected with the patriarchy?” I tease, attempting to get a rise out of him. I know he isn’t. All the same, it’s fun watching him squirm. “I forgot to throw a shot of vodka at you earlier. Is it because you think women are the weaker sex? Is it chivalry?”
“Holy shit. Sara. I didn’t mean…” He breathes out heavily, barely disguising the hiss of pain as he rolls onto his back. “Look, I’m fine. I’d say the same thing to anyone, man or woman. Please go to sleep. It’s not a big deal.”
“Nope. I won’t be able to now, knowing you’re suffering on the floor.”
I swing my legs out of the bed and pull the top sheet off, scanning the floor for a good place to throw my pillow.
“What are you doing?” Gus grunts as he sits up. “I’m not suffering. It’s a light backache from all the walking.”
That does it. “Swap. Now.”
“No. I’m not swapping.”
“Then I’m going to match your stubbornness and sleep down here too.”
Gus groans before resorting to more exasperated laughter. “Sleep on the bed. Please.”
“No.”
“Ugh. What if we both sleep on the bed then? But top and tails?”
“I do not want your blistered, clumpy feet anywhere near my face.”
“I washed them?” he offers, as if that might be my issue here.
I make a face. He can’t see it in the darkness, but I make it, nonetheless. “Washing them doesn’t make them any less clumpy. My statement stands. You take the bed. It’s only fair.”
“What if we build a pillow fort between us?”
“I’m not the one who’s worried about sharing a bed.”
He’s standing now, a tall, dark figure with the navy sky outlining his head from the window behind him. “Well, I’m not bothered.”
A forbidden thrill runs through my body. “Fine. Let’s share the bed. If you think it will help you recover?”
“I already said this isn’t for me. I’m just hoping you’ll stop harassing me and let me sleep in peace.”
“Right. Sure.”
He helps me up from the floor, then places his pillow down on his side as I do the same on mine. He then proceeds to roll the knitted throw up long ways and lies it down through the middle of the bed. “There you go.”
I sniff a laugh. “Practically twin beds.”
I can’t see his face properly, but I swear I see that cheeky glint sparkle in his eye as he climbs onto the mattress.
He’s only wearing boxer shorts, which is the same as the night before, except he had a sheet wrapped around him all night, so it wasn’t even an issue.
Now, it feels quite a bit more intimate.
He’s certainly not shy. That’s for sure.
“Did you check your bank account by the way?” he asks.
“Yes. Your sister sent a grand. I won’t need it all, so if you send me your details, I’ll transfer the rest back.”
“Sure,” he says, sarcastically. “I’ll do that.”
“Gus…”
“I’ll sort my sister out. You don’t need to worry about her, she has plenty of money. She won’t even miss it.”
I consider fighting it but instead, I roll over, throwing my legs out of the bed and say, “I’m just going to nip to the loo.”