Page 16

“Aw, babe, come on. You took a degree and passed with flying colors. You landed a terrific job at a museum doing something you love. You have lots of great friends. And nowyou’re free of that wanker, and you can find yourself a guy you deserve.”
“You never liked Ian, did you?” I ask wryly.
“Honestly? No. I didn’t understand what you saw in him.”
There’s a cobweb in the corner of the ceiling. A fly has been caught in it, and as I watch, the spider comes out and starts wrapping him up like a mummy.
“I thought you married the first guy you went out with,” I say distractedly. “Mum did. You did. I didn’t want to admit I’d chosen wrongly.”
“And it worked out so well for Mum,” she says. “You’re beautiful and smart; you could have the pick of any guy you wanted. Go out there and try a few first. And make sure you pick someone this time who isn’t a knob.”
That makes me laugh. “All right. I’ll let you get back to your gardening.”
“Are you sure? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just wanted to talk about it.”
“Well, you know where I am if you want to chat more.”
“Yeah, speak soon. Love you.”
“Love you.”
I end the call.
The guy opposite has stopped yelling, and upstairs they must have closed the door, because for once it’s relatively quiet. I revel in the silence, sipping my coffee, letting my thoughts carry me where they will.
I’ll have to talk to Mum about the letter. I need to make her understand how betrayed I feel, and to impress that I don’t want her to tell Dad anything else about me. But I’ll wait until I’m calmer.
I’m okay here. I’m safe. He’s behind bars, and even though he knows I work at the museum, he doesn’t know where I live.I don’t have to worry that he’s going to appear on my doorstep. I’m not in any danger.
Deanna’s right; he doesn’t get to upset me. The only power he has over me is that which I give to him. I’m not going to think about him anymore.
Instead, I think about Fraser.
I think about his blue eyes, and the way his hair falls over his forehead. About how the sleeves of his T-shirt stretched across his biceps. And the heat that appeared in his eyes after he rubbed the chocolate off my nose.
I’m not used to men being attracted to me. Maybe it’s because, while I was with Ian, I gave out signals that I wasn’t single; or perhaps it goes deeper than that. I’ve never been very confident. Ian often reprimanded me for not making eye contact with people, and for constantly putting myself down. It irritated him, and he could never see that only made me worse.
On Friday, after the guys left, Elora, Zoe, and I talked for a while about my breakup, and Zoe said something that stuck with me. She said, “Sometimes we stay with someone because we think we love them, but actually we’re just scared of being alone.” It’s only now that I realize how true that was. I don’t think I’ve loved Ian for a long time, if I ever did. We had fun together for a while. He was an engineer, and we socialized a lot with his colleagues and their partners, going to concerts, or the cinema, or just meeting up at the local bar. But now I realize they were his friends, not mine. He didn’t like my friends because they enjoyed talking about topics like art, archaeology, and history, things he had no interest in.
I stayed with him because the thought of dating again, of trying on new guys to see if they fit, terrified me. But that’s not the right reason to stay with someone. We both deserved better than that.
I pick up my phone again, study it for a moment, then pull up Elora’s number and call her.
She answers after a few rings. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Hallie.”
“Hello! How’s it going?”
“Yeah, okay. What are you up to?”
“I’m at Stonehenge Aotearoa with Linc.”
“Oh!” My lips curve up. “I’m so sorry to interrupt!”
“No, it’s okay, I’ve just been to the bathroom and I’m walking back now. He’s taking some photos.”