The next morning, I found myself not only in Molly’s car, but in the Spanish Inquisition. She was having her final dress fitting today and had asked for my company. Of course, this meant that on the way she wanted all the gossip from last night.
Poking me in the ribs, she grinned. “So? How was it?”
I shrugged my shoulders, trying to hide the gnawing edge of discomfort inside me. “It was sex.”
“Oh, come on. You gotta give me more details than that.”
“It was okay.”
“Okay? Come on, Ky, details. What was he like compared to Paul?”
I sighed as I tried to avoid that dreaded comparison. It was like comparing a rally car to a Rolls Royce. One cruises you along in luxury and serene bliss whilst the other gives you a fast, furious ride with no promise of what the next corner will bring—success or a burning crash.
“Different, Molly. He was different.”
“Good different?”
“Yes, Molls. Good different.”
She eyed me with a smirk before giving up, changing the subject to the wedding. Parking the car, she frog marched us to the dress shop with an impish grin on her face. As Joan fussed over her in the dressing room, I browsed my way through all the dresses once more, losing myself in fantasies of my own wedding day.
“Ta dah.”
The loud, excited voice turned my attention in an instant. My jaw dropped in shock before I fully registered what was happening.
Molly twirled around in front of me, her bright eyes gleaming with joy. “What do you think?”
A jumbled mix of emotions ran through me at seeing her wearing the very dress I’d tried on and fallen in love with.
“What the…?”
“I tried it on when I came back for my fitting and loved it. It looks a million times better than the other one, don’t you think?”
I nodded, numb, not quite believing what I was seeing. I didn’t know how to react. Deep down, I was hurt, a little pissed off, and slightly envious that the one dress I’d seen myself in, Molly was now wearing.
I plastered a smile on my face. “Looks good.”
Completely oblivious to my shock, she admired herself in the mirrors for the next half an hour whilst Joan made final adjustments. The drive home was silent on my part. Molly chatted away about her hen night, which was next Saturday. The boys were also having their stag do that night.
“You coming round mine or going back home?”
I needed some space from her at the moment so told her I wanted to go home.
Scott had stayed at mine whilst Molly took me to the dress shop. A strange feeling coursed through me at the thought of a man waiting for me at home. It was odd but one that I welcomed. I liked it and I definitely wanted more of it. He greeted me with a deep kiss as I arrived through the door.
“I’m going to fetch a change of clothes,” he said. “Be back soon.”
I nodded, sharing another smooch with him before surrounding myself in the silence of my solo presence once again. After he left, I did the one thing I shouldn’t have done—called my brother to whinge about Molly.
He chuckled at me down the phone. “Seriously, how many times do I have to tell you that I do not like that girl. There is always a reason why gay men don’t like people, babes, take notice of me for once, hey?”
“Ash, she’s my best friend.”
“Really? Would a best friend really do that to you?”
I fell silent, realising I was fighting a losing battle.
“Look, I know it’s not what you want to hear but I’m not going to sugar coat anything for you. There’s no point.”
“I know.”
“I’ll come see you when we’re back from London. You going to be okay?”
“Aren’t I always?”
***
I collapsed on the sofa, flicking through TV channels for the next hour or so. My phone rang, surprise hitting me as I saw it was Scott.
“Hey.”
“Hi, babes. Hey, I’m really sorry but I don’t think I can come back over today. My dad just called, he’s up this way and wants to see me.”
A stab of disappointment hit me. “Oh, okay. Sure. No problem.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, okay.”
The phone went dead, leaving me to submerge myself in a need of wine and comfort food. Whilst I ransacked my cupboards with little success, my phone chimed with a text.
Paul: I meant what I said. X
My heart stopped dead as I read over it again and again. I refused to admit I missed him too. I was with Scott now, and potentially looking at the future I finally admitted I wanted.
I decided to text him back.
Me: Maybe you wouldn’t have had to say it if you hadn’t been such an ass in the first place!
Paul: I had to be. You have no idea how much I didn’t want to be. X
Me: What on earth is that supposed to mean?
I stared at my phone for the next few minutes, waiting for a response, but nothing came. Scowling to myself, I decided to make a trip to the shop for my much needed alcohol and junk food. When I arrived back home, I sat in the car for a few minutes, eyes closed as I thought of what a mess I’d gotten myself into recently.
I opened my eyes with a sigh, which turned into a scream. Paul’s face stared back at me through my window.
He opened my door, taking my bags from me. “Hi.” His beautiful blue eyes were tinged with a softness I’d never seen before.
My anger at his treatment of me boiled to the surface. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to see you.”
I snorted. “Didn’t your mum teach you I want never gets?”
“Kyra—”
“No.” My voice came out a little louder than I expected. “Don’t ‘Kyra’ me. You treated me like a piece of shit on the bottom of your shoe before pissing off for three weeks without a single word.”
“I’m sorry—”
“No, you’re not.”
“I am.”
“Prove it.”
He frowned. “How do you expect me to prove it? I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t bothered, would I? I would have waited until Monday to see you otherwise.”
I scanned over his handsome face, my heart melting at having him so near to me once again. I wanted so desperately to fall into his arms, to have his lips grazing over my skin. But this time, my head ruled my heart, demanding I keep him at bay.
“Ah, I see. You thought you’d come apologise and I’d hump your brains out in some idealistic view of make-up sex.”
He shook his head. “Not at all. My life isn’t black and white and simple. I need to explain a few things to you.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him. “For what reason? What are you going to gain from doing so?”
He hesitated before he answered. “I just thought if you understood, things might be different.”
“Different how? You finished this. Deal with it. You made your bed now go lie in it.”
I moved to take my bags but he moved them from one side of his fine body to the other.
“Fine. Keep them. I don’t care.”
I stomped inside, making a point to slam the door in his face. I was shaking from anger as all the emotions I’d buried for the past three weeks bubbled to the surface all at once. My front door opened and I spun around, narrowing my eyes at him.
“What are you doing? I didn’t invite you in.”
He smirked. “Do you want your night time feast of crap and drink?”
I snatched my bags back. “You can go now.” I turned and walked back to the kitchen, dumping the bags on the worktop with a loud clatter.
The door clicked closed and I leaned against the worktop, taking a deep, shaky breath. I struggled not to run outside and throw myself at him, desperate to have him next to me again. Needing some water, I turned to grab a glass but instead met Paul’s gorgeous face.
Before I could register anything, he swept me up in a passionate embrace, taking all my breath away. Reality slipped away from me for a brief moment as I indulged in my heart’s desires.
“Paul…” I pushed him away, as much as it pained me to do so. “You can’t…”
“Why?”
“Because I’m with Scott now.”
Hurt and confusion spread across his features likes wildfire. “Since when?”
“Since you left.”
“Oh.” He stepped away, his voice barely audible. “Have you…?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
He nodded, staring at his shoes. He glanced up at me, a slight glisten hazing over his eyes. “I think I should go.”
I nodded, my own tears threatening to spill.
He walked out the door, shoulders sagging and head down. A little piece of me went with him.