26. No. 4 Leave London
twenty-six
August
Iwake up with a headache and a weight on my chest that could anchor the village.
Fuck, this is bad. This is so, so bad. I had plans of waking up early and going to the café to help Bea set up for today.
I laid awake through both of my alarms, unsure how to handle the inevitable fall out from Meghan’s return.
I must have fallen asleep again, bone deep tired, because I woke up after nine and even after a scolding hot shower, I feel like death.
I hear the front door close, and I throw a t-shirt on over my jeans to jog downstairs.
Maybe she left, slunk back to whatever depths of hell she’s been hiding in, and I won’t have to deal with this shit.
But my luck has never been that good. I hear her moving around in the kitchen and I head in that direction with a slump to my shoulders and a silent prayer to the ceiling.
Meghan is sat at my kitchen table, a sight so familiar and yet so foreign.
I’d rather be seeing a mop of pink hair hunched over a book, yellow fluffy socks, and dancing coffee cup pyjamas.
I always thought Megs was beautiful; long light brown hair and dark eyes, a pretty smile and stylish clothes.
But she’s the last person in the world I want to see sitting at my kitchen table, sipping from a to-go cup.
A to-go cup. She’s been out to get coffee.
There’s only one coffee shop in the village. Meghan went to The Reading Nook Café.
“Where did you get that?” I bark, making her jump so much coffee swills out through the spout in the lid.
“Jesus, August,” she says with a surprised laugh, placing a hand over her chest. “You scared the crap out of me.” She’s wearing Jemma’s ring, on her fucking left hand.
Anger consumes me, my jaw tightening and my fists clenching. “Where. Did. You. Get. That?” I repeat.
She looks down to her coffee with a frown. “This? The cute little place across the road. How long has that been there? It’s adorable.”
“Did you speak to anyone?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Yes,” she says slowly, like I’m being an idiot. A tone I’m too familiar with from her and it makes my teeth itch. “The woman behind the counter, she was sweet, bit odd though, she kind of spaced out when I said I wanted to buy you a brownie.”
“You told her you know me?” My chest might concave.
“Yeah,” she giggles, unaware or uncaring she’s ruining my life. For the second time. She wiggles her ringed finger at me. “I thought it was fun to take advantage of someone around here not knowing who I am.”
“Fucking hell, Meghan,” I seethe at her. “What the fuck are you doing here? Why are you determined to shit all over everything good in my life?”
Her face falls. “August—”
“I don’t have time for this.” I turn on my heel and head to the door, slamming it behind me and sprinting across the road. I didn’t stop to put shoes on, and I feel the sharp points of the tiny stones in the road through the soft cotton of my socks.
I can’t see Bea through the window and I’m too worried to question the fact Cas is behind the counter.
The door swings open rather violently when I push it and every head in the room turns to me.
Locals occupy every available table, some of them staring at me in shock, some giving me the stink eye, while others refuse to make eye contact. Yep, shit went down.
“Where is she?” I ask Cas, not bothering to hide the distress in my voice.
Cas pulls their blank expression into a fixed smile that does nothing to hide the murder in their neon green lined eyes. “Hello sir, how can I help you today?”
“Where is she?”
“We have coffee, tea, cakes. I’m afraid we’re all out of brownies as a lovely young lady just bought the last one for her fiancé. Hope he appreciates it as it’s probably the last one he’ll ever have.” They tilt their head and wait for me to make an order.
I grip the edge of the counter with both hands and hang my head between my shoulders. Fuck my actual life. I feel the heavy shroud of disappointment and smell the distinct sweetness of Chanel Number Five before I hear Ruth’s voice.
“August.”
“Not now, Ruth.” I sigh.
“What is that girl doing back here?” Ruth ignores me. “And why was she at your house, parading your ring around?”
“I don’t know!” I shout, more eyes snapping to me.
Ruth jerks back a bit in surprise, eyes going wide, and I look around at my unwanted audience.
“I would very much appreciate it if you could all butt out. Just this once.” I ignore the slight hurt in Ruth’s eyes—even though it’s exactly what I’ve been asking for years—and turn back to Cas, pleadingly. “Please, I need to talk to Bea.”
Cas arches a dark brow. “I have two questions for you, answer them and I’ll decide if you get to see her. These are yes or no questions and you get no other words. No ands, ifs, or buts, just yes or no.”
My head drops forward again because I know this won’t go well for me.
“Did you ask that woman to marry you?” Cas asks.
I huff out a defeated sigh. “Yes.”
Cas makes a knowing sound. “And did you ever have a conversation in which the engagement was officially called off?”
I look up at them, my vision blurring because I know I’ve fucked up. “It’s complicated,” I try.
“Yes or no,” Cas reminds me with menacing calm.
“No,” I croak.
“Then I suggest you go home and respect Bea’s need for space right now and you better hope you and I don’t cross paths again until I’ve calmed the fuck down.”
Cas is terrifying and I am broken. I want to punch the wall and curl up in my bed to sleep for a year.
But I don’t do any of that, I slump forward until my head thunks loudly on the counter, it hurts but I deserve the pain.
Straightening myself up, I give one more desperate look to Cas, but they just glare witheringly back and I’m leaving the café again, defeated and pissed the fuck off.
Back through my front door, I storm to the kitchen, Meghan is stood awkwardly, like she didn’t know what to do with herself after I left.
“August, I—”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I seethe. “Why now?”
Tears spring to her chocolate brown eyes, a sight that would have once doused my fiery rage and prompted me to hold her, but today it seems to have the opposite effect.
“I-I was having a bit of a hard time, and I wanted to come home.” She blinks up at me, pushing tears down her cheeks to leave trails of mascara in their wake.
“I got in late and didn’t want to wake my parents, I know they would worry.
” She sniffs, bottom lip trembling, and pulls one shoulder to her ear before letting it drop again.
“I guess this was always my safe space.”
“Your safe space?” I repeat, incensed. “But you couldn’t get away from it fast enough!” She looks down at her feet. “You’re having a hard time, so you thought you’d just come waltzing back here to fuck with me?”
“No!” she cries, shaking her head vehemently. “I wasn’t trying to fuck with you, I swear. I know it was unfair of me to come here, I get that, but like I said, I didn’t know where else to go and I knew we should probably talk.”
“You think?” I yell, losing all trace of control. “I have been trying to get hold of you for months, Meghan.”
“Really?” I hate the little ray of hope shining up at me through her watery eyes.
“You’ve fucked my credit and left me on the hook for your collections,” I growl.
She blinks at me, her expression morphing into confusion. “I…what?”
“The loan for your car?” I remind her. “It was in my name because you didn’t have the credit, remember?
Back when we used to actually mean something to each other.
” I witness the pain slash across her face, but I ignore it.
“I took out the loan in my name, but you were supposed to pay it back. You stopped making payments and they’ve been coming at me with final notices; threatening bailiffs and my credit is absolutely fucked.
” My heart it going a mile a minute, adrenaline and anger mixing to a dangerous concoction, I feel like I could pass out.
“B-but I sold the car,” she says, her brows dipped low and she shakes her head.
“You still have to pay off the fucking loan,” I shout.
She flinches and her chin wobbles again. “I’m sorry.”
“Do you know how much you’ve ruined things for me, Megs?
” I say, feeling the anger start draining out of me, replaced by bone deep exhaustion and grief.
So much grief. Mourning for the relationship I once thought Meghan and I would have, mourning the plans I had to open my own shop in the village, and mourning the love I fear Meghan’s sudden reappearance may have cost me.
“I wasn’t able to get the loan I needed to open my shop.
” I don’t tell her that dream has actually been washed away in a sea of pink hair, sunshine smiles, and fluffy socks. It would undermine my point.
“I’ll call the loan company,” she says. “I’ll set up the payments again and I’ll explain the whole thing.
“Yeah, it won’t do shit to my credit, but if you could get them off my back, that would be great,” I huff, pulling out a chair, loudly scraping the legs against the terracotta tiled floor and flopping down, hunching over the table, and holding my head in my hands.
“I really am sorry, August.” She perches on the chair next to mine. “I didn’t realise.”
She puts her hand on my bicep, and I catch the flash of yellow in my periphery. “Why are you wearing Jemma’s ring, Megs?” I ask over a sigh.
Her hand disappears and the ring is placed on the table between my elbows.
“I actually came to return it. I guess when I woke up this morning, I was feeling wistful and just wanted to wear it one last time. I figured the coffee shop girl didn’t know me so she wouldn’t judge like the rest of damn village. ”
I drop my hands and turn to glare at her. “She knows me.”
“Yeah, but…” Her eyes go wide, realisation dawning, and she slumps down, head bent to watch where her hands fidget on her lap. “Oh shit.”