“I-I-I need to go,” I snatch up my handbag and struggle to get out of the booth before I do anything embarrassing or worse. My friends don’t know about Adam, nor do they know where I grew up. It’s too painful to think about let alone discuss with anyone.
“Ellie? What’s going on?” Gemma asks, grabbing my arm so I can’t leave. The worried expression on her face nearly makes me lose it right then.
“Please,” I beg, willing my friend not to push the issue. Tears are stinging the back of my eyes, ready to unleash at any second. Gemma must understand because she releases me, no further questions asked.
Then she changes her mind and pulls me into a hug. She whispers in my ear, “You be safe and ring me if you need to talk, okay?”
I nod into her shoulder and flee the pub the second she lets go. Stumbling out into the crisp late autumn air, I suck in several deep breaths before I regain enough composure to walk the short distance to the tube station. Tears run silently down my cheeks and I swipe at them randomly as they fall. I’m twenty-nine years old and I’m still hung up on Adam Fucking Reynolds. I’ll never be rid of him or this feeling of emptiness, even though I haven’t seen him or spoken to him since our hotel rendezvous three years ago.
The train glides to a stop in front of me and I shuffle in with the other weary passengers as the voice tells me to ‘mind the gap’. I drop into a seat and close my eyes, thinking about how I ended my relationship with James earlier this year, about a month after the Grammys and the talk with my mum. Ended it for myself, but also for a man I’ll never have and never see again.
* * *
James sits next to me on our sofa, stunned by my words.
“You’re moving out?” he asks, truly confused by the thought of me leaving.
“Yes, I am,” I state calmly. I don’t want to start fighting or crying. He knows I don’t love him, he must. Everyone, even Agnes at work knows I don’t love him. He can’t be that clueless, he’s a fucking detective for christssake!
“But… I thought…” James is at a complete loss for words.
“I’m sorry, James. Here…” I pull off the diamond engagement ring he gave me and hand it to him, the one I took off so I could be with Adam and mysteriously ended up back on my finger at the hospital. “I can’t remain here like this… us. It doesn’t work.”
“Of course it works El. We’ve been together forever,” he says, pleading his case, his large hand fisted around the ring.
“And we’ve never actually discussed having a wedding, James. Didn’t that clue you in that something was off?”
“No. I mean, yes. I guess I figured we’d be the couple that stays together forever but never needs the actual wedding to prove it.” His handsome face is truly bewildered, his deep brown eyes genuinely baffled. It kind of makes me angry that he gets to sit there and pretend he didn’t see all of the signs over the years, that I’m the bad guy after he methodically cut off my relationship with every friend I had and made me completely dependent on him.
“That’s not me, James. I want the wedding, the cake and the dance and the happily ever after…”
“You don’t want it with me, that’s what you mean,” he finishes. I watch as his eyes go from hurt to hard in an instant. “It’s that Reynolds bastard, isn’t it? You’re leaving me for him!” he shouts accusingly.
“No James, and what would you even know about it? I haven’t spoken to Adam in years, since the concert, actually.” I leave out the hotel incident, trying my best to keep my voice composed. No need to rub salt in the wounds, even though he used my fear of Callum Murray to keep me with him for years.
His eyes narrow accusingly. “That prick is the reason that Callum Murray attacked you all those times, isn’t it? Murray would never confess to a reason for stalking you, wanting to harm you, and you wouldn’t say anything either. All three of you went to the same school though,” James says, piecing together what he already knew to be true but never really wanted to confront. “I’ve always had a feeling that it had something to do with that bloody pikey singer!”
“He’s not a pikey, James! And neither am I!” I yell, hurt by his classist insult about being from Hackney. “And how dare you mention Callum Murray when he’s the only reason I’ve even been with you all these years!”
I blanch at the look on James’ face. It goes from angry, to hurt, to downright furious.
He slams his large fist down on the coffee table, rattling the mug of tea that’s sitting there, then points at me accusingly. “You were protecting Reynolds, by not telling me everything about Murray.” His hardened stare crumples into one of resignation as the final piece clicks into place for him. “You still love him. That’s what this is about,” he says, his voice getting softer, sounding less harsh and more resigned. “I never had a chance, did I? Even after the attack, when you were in the hospital and I sent that…” he stops abruptly and drops his gaze to his hands, folded around the diamond ring I’ve worn for almost two years.
Tears run freely down my face, my earlier anger spent. “I never meant to hurt you James. I thought, over time… that maybe… I don’t know.” Useless sobs are wrenched from my throat.
“You thought you’d eventually love me enough, right?”
God, for someone living in complete ignorance for the last four plus years, and using every advantage he had to manipulate me, he sure figured everything out right quick at the end. Or maybe he knew all along and was ignoring the truth, just like I was.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper between cries. “Really truly sorry, James.”
“Me too,” he says and we hug, undoubtedly for the last time.
* * *
“Finsbury Park. Next stop Seven Sisters.”
The doors to the train open at my stop and I slowly walk home, my earlier buzz from the beers and the girls’ night out now completely gone. Between thinking about Adam and recalling how I broke James’ heart, all I want to do is crash on my bed.