Unintended

“So, why didn’t you go back in?” I asked.

There was a long silence, as if he couldn’t decide whether or not to tell me. And he had no reason to at all since he didn’t even know me. “Can I pass on that one?”

I nodded. “Sure. Do you want a drink?” I gestured to my glass. “Seems rude to sit here with a glass of wine and not offer to get you something.” His eyes narrowed with what looked like suspicion, and I laughed again. “I’m not planning to slip you a roofie. I’m not in the habit of luring men into my room.”

I watched as his shoulders loosened again. “Sorry. I’ll go and get a beer or something. Do you need a refill?”

I shook my head. “I’m okay, thanks. One more and I’ll be unable to walk.”

He gave me a nod before standing to go to the bar.

I wasn’t sure what the chances were of me bumping into Evangeline… did she say she preferred Evie…? but it had to be pretty slim. I almost didn’t recognise her, and it wasn’t as if I was looking out for her. Why would I? I’d assumed she lived locally and had gone home. But there she was, in the corner of the bar. I hadn’t intended to approach her. The fact that I had made me question my own sanity.

If she finds out…

I blew out a breath as I reached the bar. One night off. That was all I wanted. One night’s break.

You’re miles from home. She won’t find out.

I still couldn’t believe I’d spoken to this woman outside the club, or even noticed her. I’d been lost in my own world, but her heavy breathing and desperate-sounding footsteps were hard to ignore.

I glanced at her across the room. She looked more comfortable than she had when I first met her. Relaxed, and in clothes that seemed more suited to her. She’d used the long sleeve of her jumper to cover one of her hands, the other one free to reach for her drink or phone.

When I’d told her she looked fine earlier, it was a sort of lie. She looked good, but she really did seem out of place there. Not that I’d stereotype—all kinds of people go to rock shows. I knew because I worked in a music venue myself. But she just seemed… too graceful? She had quite delicate features, and she was small, like a ballerina or something. Not super skinny, but… yeah. Graceful.

I ordered a half pint of lager. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but I didn’t want Evie to drink alone. When the barman handed it to me, I suddenly second guessed myself, knowing I was expected home before midday, which meant my train was just after seven a.m. This would have to be my only one because if I overslept and missed my train, my life would be made a misery.

As I walked back to where Evie sat, she looked up and smiled as I approached. When I sat down, she said, “So, what do you do in Manchester, Ash?”

I took a sip of my drink, wishing I could dive in and drown myself inside it. I wasn’t trying to impress her or anything, I just hated telling people my job. Because that was all it was. A job. Any chance of a career had disappeared because rent was expensive so I couldn’t afford to take an entry level job doing what I wanted to do. Plus, my girlfriend had a pretty serious addiction to nights out and heavy drinking. Those things did not allow for anything other than a weekly wage in a steady job.

“I work in a bar in the city. A bit like the one you ran out of tonight. Late nights, loud noise, bright lights.”

Evie winced. “Wow, you must be pretty hardcore. I found it hard just for a couple of hours.”

“You get used to it. It’s not where I want to be but it’s work.”

She nodded as if she understood. I doubted she did though. Most people wouldn’t.

“How about you?” I asked. “What do you do?”

“I work in graphic design. I have my own small business, and I work from home which suits me.”

“What kind of stuff do you do?”

“I design websites, logos, and I do branding for different companies. I do some writing occasionally too. It depends on what the client wants. Mostly design though.”

“That’s cool. It must be good to work for yourself.”

She was living the dream. Anxiety aside, she seemed to have her shit together. A job she enjoyed and no boss to deal with. No annoying workmates. I bet she had some kind of well-off boyfriend who spoiled her with expensive gifts too. That was what all women seemed to want. Also, the way she was dressed, with very little make-up aside from a bit of pink lipstick and some mascara, she didn’t seem like she was too high maintenance. I guessed since she already had everything she wanted, she didn’t need to impress anyone.

I wonder how long it takes to reach that level of peace in life.

“It’s good and bad,” she said. “I can wear my PJs to work if I want to, but also, it kills my social skills because I don’t see that many people face to face on a daily basis. Much of my work is done via email or over the phone.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Not a fan of people, huh?”