Chapter Forty-Eight
Ollie
Well, I made a right mess of that, didn’t I?
As if I was going to tell Aury. I might have done.
Before. I have reasons. I might – just might – have been able to at least insinuate that I feel odd in her company, now more than ever.
But she has no idea, and now I probably can’t ever tell her.
We’ve never spoken about the kiss that never was, but I knew way before that how I felt about Aury.
From day one. Nearly ten years ago. On the staircase when I sent her flying.
Right then – that moment. It felt fated, as if all the stars had aligned.
But of course they hadn’t. Of course they hadn’t.
Because she ended up with Ben. What an idiot I was.
But now. Now she’s with a bloody celebrity who prances around on the TV for work.
This is bonkers. Beyond bonkers. There are more pictures of them appearing online, in a bar.
Aury’s in the same dress, but I’ve got no idea if the photo was taken before or after the one of them kissing in a lift.
I don’t want to know. And it doesn’t matter, because there is absolutely no way I’m doing anything about this – about how I feel.
No way.
Not that I could before. Bloody Ben!
And now … bloody Sam Charlton too.