42. JULES
JULES
MONACO
By the time I’m sitting in Tom’s living room, George Smith, my rugby player ex, has come out with his own testimony.
Brennan Okorafor the footballer, naturally, barely waited long enough to set up a tripod.
It’s only a matter of time before Dominic Johnson the swimmer jumps in to boost his waning star.
And Damian… he’s many, many awful things, but I don’t think petty’s one of them.
Then again, everything I know is slipping through my fingers so I wouldn’t be surprised.
I’ve been weirdly in a daze for the past few days.
If I’d known this was going to happen months ago, I’d have hit the roof, but now it’s happening, I’m strangely detached.
It’s like my head’s gone offline. I have to remind myself how to breathe and blink and function normally.
Maybe it’s a defence mechanism and I shouldn’t interrogate it too much.
I know too well what the alternative is.
Tom hands me a sparkling water and sits stiffly opposite me. There couldn’t be much more distance between us. It’s not a fight. I’m not sure I have it in me to fight anyway. What am I fighting for anymore?
‘I didn’t want to watch it,’ he starts, ‘but I did.’ He looks like he’s struggling to filter his thoughts into words.
I get the feeling he’s not furious very often, and argues even less.
‘I’ve never had a high opinion of Logan Rogers, and I don’t believe everything he said, but a lot of it felt uncomfortably familiar. ’
I don’t say anything.
‘I feel like the world’s biggest fool. When I first met you, my management were saying things, I was hearing things in the paddock. I don’t give a shit about gossip, and I’ve always taken people at face value, but now I’m thinking I should really reconsider that.’
Everything feels unreal, like I’m underwater. I don’t love Tom, I never have, but I don’t want to hurt him. It pains me that I’ve shaken his trust in people.
‘Sure, I didn’t like your job, but a person’s job isn’t all they are. I never imagined it’d come to this.’ He rubs his unusually scratchy jaw. ‘I just don’t understand. Why do you do it? Why me?’
The only thing left is the truth. I owe him that at least. ‘To expand my reach and stick it to my ex in the process.’
‘And which ex would that be? You’ve had thousands.’
If I had any motivation left in me, I’d rise to that. ‘I never lied to you.’
He scoffs. ‘Isn’t that the biggest loophole in the book. Don’t give me semantics. I have a PR nightmare waiting for me in Mexico because of you. You know how much I hate that stuff.’
‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about everything.’
‘That’s not good enough. You know after the Ackland bullshit, I got called a deceiver at every single interview?
They pelted it at me every time I stepped in the paddock.
How could someone like me do that to my team?
It pissed me off almost as much as being asked to throw the race.
I’m an honest man, Jules, and I don’t have time for games. You’re everything I don’t believe in.’
Oof.
I deserved that. Of all my exes, he was the only one who was truly deceived.
There was no transaction, no verbal deal, and no mutual benefit.
He’s not slimy or two-faced or love bombing.
He didn’t deserve to be caught up in my scheming.
I don’t feel sorry about the others, but I feel deeply sorry about him.
He sits back and folds his arms in a move that strikes me as haughty.
It’s a look I’ve never seen before, and it doesn’t suit him.
‘It’s all making sense. Five months together and you still don’t “trust” me enough to have sex with me?
I was tearing my hair out; I didn’t know what more I could do. What a fucking joke.’
‘Knowing what you know now, aren’t you glad it wasn’t under false pretences?’ I offer.
‘I thought we had something,’ he shoots back, eyes hard.
Very interesting. I gave him nothing of myself, he doesn’t even know my address, so how would we have something? I’m a figment of his imagination. A projection. He said he doesn’t care about optics, but he cares alright.
There’s no such thing as bad publicity for men like him. I’ve actually helped his image, not that he’ll accept it right now. He’ll come out as the unwilling participant in influencer chaos; the focused champion with an aversion to drama. Teams and purists eat that up.
I know him, he won’t talk about it in Mexico and, coupled with his track record of being intensely private, conjecture will spiral in his favour. He was blinded. He was manipulated. I’ve built arcs like this myself. He’ll hate every second, but the machine will reward him.
‘Is any part of you real?’ he asks.
I’m not sure what he wants me to say. ‘My nose,’ I offer, managing a small smile.
‘You’re a terrible person.’ He shakes his head, rubbing his hands along his thighs. ‘Everything you do means nothing. You’re just a vapid Barbie who cheats and lies through life. I wish I’d never met you.’
I can feel my body lock up.
My head’s suddenly swarming with flashbacks to the only other time I’ve been dumped. It was more brutal, more humiliating, but my hands are as cold and clammy as they were then. I feel like someone’s sitting on my sternum. Not just any someone.
Ellias’ girlfriend brings something to the table. What do you bring, Jules?
You have nothing. You are nothing.
You’re totally dependent on me. It’s sad.
How can you expect me to fancy you with a chest like a teenage boy’s?
If you tell anyone, I’ll leak that sex tape.
I’ve seen icebergs warmer than you.
I bet you got it from your mum.
No matter how many followers, likes, brand deals, cheques, or men I accumulate, Damian’s words land with the precision they did all those years ago. He’s everywhere, and I don’t know how to stop him.
I’m the same Jules he methodically tore apart piece by piece.
Someone small and unwanted. I’m exposed despite the years I spent building careful boundaries.
I’ve reduced myself to numbers and values despite leading a life of people and experiences.
Even though I built a career I’m so proud of, somehow I’m still riddled with shame.
Everything I’ve done is in spite of him, and what good has it done?
‘Fine. Sit there in silence all you want. You know where the door is,’ Tom says, getting up and leaving the room.