Chapter 17
“Why are you making me go to this thing? I really don’t want to go,” I whine as Karen, Amanda, Greg, and Maria are round at my house staging some sort of intervention, trying to make me go out.
“Come on, it’ll be fun. It’s the nineties reunion - everyone has been talking about it for weeks - we got tickets bloody months ago, it’s been a sell-out for ages.” Amanda says, dragging me off the couch.
My shoulders sag. It’s been four very long weeks since Nathan broke up with me.
I've seen both of them a few times, thankfully, never together, though, since that first time. I get daggers from her and avoid her like the plague whenever I see her. I avoid him like I used to - he doesn’t push it, and he doesn’t try to talk to me like he used to.
It hurts my insides to see him, because he looks anything but happy.
I should think it serves him right, but I don’t, it hurts me to think of him unhappy, because that will mean Lucia isn’t happy either, and I love that girl as much as I love him.
I miss her.
I miss him.
I went from eating everything in sight as a comfort to not wanting to eat at all.
I've lost weight because I can’t eat. It’s ironic, I'm always trying to watch what I eat to shed a few pounds, but I’d give anything for an appetite right now.
I can’t sleep because every time I close my eyes, my mind goes to what it was like when I had him.
.. how happy we were. I was never this way over Patrick, ever.
It confirms now that Patrick and I weren’t meant to be – that our relationship was more platonic because I feel that my heart has been broken into tiny little pieces over Nate - the only thing keeping me going has been Jess.
My friends have been brilliant, of course, but she’s the one who’s making me carry on with my day.
I can tell these guys aren’t going to let up tonight - maybe I do need to force myself to do this anyway, what’s the harm in having a drink and a bit of fun with my friends? Perhaps that’s what I need.
I give a resigned sigh. “Fine, someone come and help me pick out what to wear.”
“Thank fuck for that, thought we were going to have to drag you out!” Karen says, rolling her eyes. “I'm out on the fashion show, I’ll have a drink - but Amanda and Maria will go with you.”
We decided on a black lace dress that I still have hanging in my wardrobe, complete with the tags on.
I bought it a couple of months ago, but I never got the chance to wear it – I seem to do that a lot.
It’s a black, strapless, fitted dress - and I mean fitted.
It goes to my knees, has an overlay of black lace that goes to my neck in a V with sleeves, and it's sexy. The skirt part of it clings to my curves and has a split on each side. Amanda puts my hair in an updo for me, and I put on flesh coloured high heels and team it with one of my favourite things, a black Michael Kors bag that I got with my thirtieth birthday money - it’s the most expensive item I own.
After I've put my make-up on, mostly to hide the dark circles, I give myself the once over – I look OK.
. more than OK . . . I look good. If only I felt as good on the inside as I look on the outside.
I have a lager while I get ready, trying to loosen myself up a bit.
I need to do this, push myself. I can't let this beat me.
Tonight has been the talk of our little town for a while.
It's old tunes - a reunion - in a big hall with a DJ that used to play the tunes back in our twenties.
We join the queue to get in with our tickets.
I recognise the two bouncers at the door from when we were in our twenties.
One of them recognises me too, smiles, eyes me up and down, and winks at me.
Amanda nudges me in the ribs. I grin at her as we walk in.
***
Two hours later . . .
'Rat-arsed' is the only word that could describe me right now. The vodkas have gone down way too easily, and that, topped with hardly any food, is not a good combination. I am roasted.
We’re having the best time, reminiscing, dancing to the old dance tunes, JX ‘Nothing I won’t do’ Two funky too ‘Brothers and Sisters’, Young MC ‘Know How’, Jamiroquai ‘Space Cowboy’, we’ve reverted back to our twenties again.
I’m getting tons of attention from men on the dance floor, maybe because I'm having a good time, or perhaps I seem the type that I would agree to carrying on having a good time with them at their place later, with the state I'm in.
I see faces I haven't seen for years. One guy I used to have a crush on - a rugby player, yet again, but this time a rugby union player (it seems I have a type)- starts to dance behind me, putting his hands on my hips. I like the feeling that someone fancies me after what I've been through the last few weeks, and I do fancy him, so I back into him and dance with him. It’s nice letting go of my depression for a couple of hours, pretending to be young and carefree with no responsibilities. We dance to Ice Cube’s ‘You Can Do It.’ (yes, really!) and he slides his hands around my waist, his mouth touches my neck.
Suddenly, there’s a big commotion from the other side of the room. We stop dancing and notice the bouncers rushing through the dance floor to get to the other side, where the loud crashing noise was. When I turn around, my body freezes solid.
Nathan.
He’s standing in front of an upturned table looking like I've never seen him before, two of his friends have got hold of him as though holding him back and they're struggling - because he's lost it - he’s breathing rapidly as he tries to break free from his friends, and he’s staring straight at me - his eyes filled with pure rage.
He looks like a man possessed. The guy I've been dancing with still has his hands on my hips and is pressed close. I squirm out of his grasp because my first instinct is to go straight over to Nathan to check he is okay.
I take a step in his direction when I feel a hand on my arm, it's Karen. “Don’t go over to him, chick, leave him be – he’s not your problem anymore.”
She’s right, he’s got nothing to do with me now, but this little scene looks like it’s got something to do with me.
I shrug her arm off. “I'm sorry, Kaz, I have to.”
She shakes her head and sighs, but releases me. Nathan shrugs his friends off and storms outside as the bouncers follow him out. I go over to Olly, his best friend, who is standing with his hands on his hips, shaking his head.
“Olly,” I yell as he’s about to follow Nathan. “What the hell was that about?”
“Doesn’t matter, Kate, go back to what you were doing.”
I grab his arm to stop him from leaving. “What’s wrong with him?”
“You don’t fucking know?” he asks angrily
“No . . . I wouldn’t be asking if I did.”
“He was watching you . . . he's been watching you all fucking night, acting like you haven’t a care in the world . . . on the dance floor with that guy. Great fucking move trying to rub his face in it, Kate - well, you know what? It worked. Well done, he got jealous and lost it.”
What the hell? Fucking jealous? He has no right - he has no right to feel anything about me. I'm boiling mad. The many double vodkas I've had aren't helping, but I have the urge to yell at him.
“For your information, I had no idea he was in here and I've been fucking miserable for the last four weeks - for once I was having fun!”
I turn from Olly and storm out of the club. When the fresh air hits me, I sway… wow… maybe I'm drunker than I thought.
He is leaning against a wall with his head down.
I charge up to him. “What the hell was that about?”
His head snaps up. “Is this what you’re lowering yourself to now? Getting mauled in a club by some cunt? He fucking had his hands all over you – act your age, Kate. You’re fucking pissed.”
Right, that’s it. I see red. I go right in his face.
“How fucking dare you! You don’t have any right to comment on what I do anymore, no fucking right at all!
You live with someone else, remember? I'm free and single and can do whatever I want, with whoever I want, well, maybe I want to do him tonight.” I'm saying it to hurt him, but so what? He’s hurt me.
His eyes flash with anger. “Do you have any fucking idea what I'm going through? ' Any idea at all?” When I don’t respond, he says, “No?” Well, I’ll tell you - I'm in fucking HELL.” He shouts in my face, and I'm tempted to take a step back, but he won’t hurt me, so I hold my ground.
“I'm with a woman I don’t want, while I have to watch the woman I do want, be mauled by some arsehole. Watching you with him made me want to kill him - I feel like I've been knifed in the chest.”
He slumps on the floor with his head in his hands. Olly is standing beside us, watching the exchange.
My heart softens, I turn back to Nathan and look at him, really look at him – his shoulders are drooped, he is defeated. His heart is breaking, just like mine. But maybe it's worse for him because he’s the one who ended us.
I crouch at his side and raise my hand to stroke his hair. When he lifts his head, there is nothing but pure pain in his eyes, then a single tear escapes and rolls down his cheek. It hurts to see him like this. This is the man I love - that doesn't just go away.
“I'm sorry… I'm so fucking sorry.” His voice breaks.
I can't stop my tears. “Don’t, Nate. What’s done is done.”
“I can’t get over you. Fuck… I don’t even want to. I spend all my time reliving stuff we did together. I love you so much. You’re the woman I'm meant to be with.”
I slowly close my eyes. It hurts to hear him talk this way.
“Stop talking, Nathan, it’s not doing either of us any good.
” He slides his legs down so that they're flat on the floor, and pulls me onto his lap.
I put my hand on his shoulder to brace myself.
Touching him again feels right... like I'm home.
He hooks a hand around the back of my neck and pulls me forward so that my mouth lands on his.
He kisses me, but I don’t respond straight away, but the feel of him and the taste of him hits me - it’s too overwhelming - my body takes over.
I groan and open my mouth, welcoming his tongue into my mouth.
He groans and deepens the kiss. We kiss…
boy, do we kiss, and I forget everything that has happened at that moment - all I think about is Nate and what it’s like to kiss him .
. . taste him . . . God, I've missed the taste of him.
Someone clears their throat behind us – it's Olly, bouncing from foot to foot, looking around. “Guys, this is not a good idea, especially here.”
He’s right. I've just kissed a man who’s in a relationship with someone else. She might be a bitch, but that’s a code you don’t break.
I look into Nathan’s eyes for a moment longer before turning to hold my hand out to Olly, who helps me up.
Nathan’s eyes are on me, as though pleading with me. I shake my head and turn and walk away, back into the club. I don’t look back. I want to, but I know what I’ll see and I know it’ll kill me.
I go back inside, and Karen and Amanda immediately come over to check that I'm okay.
I nod and wave it off as though it was nothing, when in reality, seeing him again and in that state, floored me.
I touch my fingers to my mouth, where he was kissing only moments ago – I wonder if seeing him will always floor me. Stupid question.
I'm not in the mood to carry on the night after seeing him, and it's late anyway, the rugby union guy is searching the mass of people for someone – in case it’s me, I make a swift exit – I forgot I was heartbroken for a minute there on the dance floor, and it didn’t do me any good.