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“Another round?” I asked, sliding my empty glass back towards the bartender. Amanda shook her head, indicating her still mostly full cocktail.

Brad watched me thoughtfully. “I’ll have a Coke this time,” he replied. “Got a shift at the hospital tomorrow, I can’t be nursing a hangover.”

I sighed. “You’re a pair of buzzkills!” I grumbled, but I ordered two Cokes. I should probably pace myself too. Joel didn’t see hangovers as an excuse to skip training.

“Hey, babe!”

I turned to see Thomas wrapping his arms around Amanda, leaning down to kiss her cheek. She flushed pink, tilting her head so their lips met. It quickly turned from innocent to almost pornographic, as he spun her on the bar stool and stepped between her knees, gripping her hips.

“Are they always like this?” I asked Brad.

He snorted, sipping at his Coke. “This is PG. Keep watching …”

“Do I have to?” I whined. Something inside my chest squeezed seeing how sweet the two of them were. Amanda’s hands were clutching at Thomas’s back now, sliding under his t-shirt.

“I miss making out,” I sighed.

Brad coughed. “Well, maybe you should be looking for guys who want to make out with you, instead of ones who want to secretly film you deep-throating them.”

I turned to Brad in shock. “Christ! That was harsh!”

He shrugged. “Sometimes the truth is harsh, Smellie.”

“Speaking of harsh …” Amanda interrupted. I turned, noticing her bee stung lips and flushed chest, and the bright spots of colour on Thomas’s cheeks. And then I followed Amanda’s eyes.

Susie Keens.

Susie Keens, my ex’s fiancée , wearing the tiniest body-hugging white dress, heels that could stab right through someone’s torso and come out the other side, and a tacky white veil with a matching satin sash with the words ‘Bride-to-be’ emblazoned on it in hot pink.

She was surrounded by a bunch of girls who looked like clones of her: fake blonde hair, fake claw-like nails, fake tans, trout pouts – also fake. They were giggling and simpering over her, as they all downed glasses of champagne.

I felt like someone had shoved Susie’s stiletto through my chest. I hadn’t realised when that photographer had goaded me with talk about Grant marrying Susie that it was happening basically immediately.

“I’m not drunk enough for this fuckery,” I muttered, turning back and ordering a Long Island Iced Tea. Brad sighed, but said nothing.

“Come on, Mel. Just one more flight, and we’ll get you into bed,” Brad crooned.

“Oh, come on! You guys are so lame, I was just getting started!”

Was it just me, or were the stairs all different heights? That was weird, I didn’t remember them being that way before.

“Um, Mel, you were kicked out of the bar. And there is no way you would’ve been let in anywhere else.”

“Who’re you again?” I asked, flopping my head, trying to focus on the other person who was half carrying me up the stairs to my apartment.

“I’m Thomas, remember? Amanda’s boyfriend? You asked me to give you make-out lessons?”

I chortled. “Well, it looked like you and Mandy-Moo had it down to a …” I swallowed bile.

“Quick, guys, she’s going to vomit any second,” Amanda’s anxious voice rang out behind me.

“Nah, I’m good! I just need to sit down.” I tried to pull away from Brad and Thomas, but they gripped me harder.

“Your door is right there, Mel. Just a few more steps and you can sit down on your comfortable lounge.”

“Uh-huh,” I grunted, as a key snicked in a lock and the door opened.

“Home, sweet home!” I crowed, taking two steps and collapsing face first onto the lounge.

I turned my head to the side, watching through hazy eyes as they talked about me like I wasn’t even there.

Thomas: “Does she get this messy a lot?”

Brad: “Hardly ever. Although this is the second time I’ve seen her like it this year. She was like this the night that Steve …”

Thomas: “What set her off tonight?”

Amanda: “She was serious with Grant Johnson – you know, the NRL player? They were together basically all through high school.”

Thomas: “And what’s that got to do with tonight?”

Brad: “He cheated on her with that woman who was out on her hen’s night. Susie Keens. It was going on for years – every time Mel travelled to compete. ”

Thomas: “Why didn’t anyone tell her?”

Amanda: “We all thought she knew. Mel’s … she’s never been one to wear her heart on her sleeve. It was so obvious, none of us imagined that she didn’t …”

“That I didn’t realise that he was fucking her every time I was away long enough for him to get away with it?” I interrupted. I snorted as the three of them jumped like they’d forgotten I was there. Suddenly I felt stone cold sober.

“For the record, I didn’t know. Grant was …

he was very good at hiding things from me.

I … I honestly thought he loved me. I never thought we’d be forever, but I thought it would be my career taking off that would end it.

Not that he’d been pounding Bogan Barbie basically since I popped his cherry. ”

“Is it really that bad a thing, that he’s marrying her then, if you never expected to end up there with him?” Brad asked gently.

I chuckled humourlessly. “It’s not even that. I couldn’t give two shits about him marrying Susie. It’s just …” My throat got tight, and my eyes blurred.

“He’s the first guy I ever trusted … you know? The first one I ever let in. Towards the end, things were shit, and I knew a breakup was coming, but when he turned up to meet me at the airport and she was with him … I have never felt so … betrayed!”

I was sobbing in earnest now.

Amanda sat beside me, her hand stroking soothingly up and down my back. “You had every right to feel that way, Mel,” she reassured me. “What Grant did – that day, and every time he cheated on you – it was so shitty. He’s a shitty person who never deserved your love.”

“I feel like after the way that felt … anything more than just casual stuff … it’s not something I can do. Grant fucking broke me.”

I’d never said it out loud before. Never even really recognised it, but the truth of it hit me like a freight train. Pete … Ben … there had been no likelihood for anything long-term with either of them. Had that been what had made it possible for me to sleep with both of them ?

“Well, that’s absolutely untrue!” Brad murmured. “You’ll find someone who is worthy of your trust, Mel. And when you do, that dickhead will be so far from your mind, you’ll forget he even existed.”

I swallowed, nausea rolling suddenly through me. “I’m going to be sick,” I gasped, lurching off the lounge and rushing towards the bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet before my meagre dinner, and many cocktails, came hurling back up.

Amanda was behind me, gentle hands holding back my hair. When the last of the dry heaving finally subsided, she stood up and flicked on the shower, helping me to undress and climb under the warm spray.

“Thanks, Mandy-Moo,” I whispered.

She smiled, placed a fresh towel within reach and walked to the bathroom door. “I’ll be waiting on the other side, if you need me.”

I had such good friends. I probably didn’t deserve them.

I woke up with a mouth that tasted like Connor’s litter tray, and a banger of a headache. Hello hangover.

Staggering into the kitchen, I poured a big glass of water, collapsing into a chair and sipping it slowly. Bit by bit, the previous night came back to me.

Susie … way too many cocktails … Brad and Thomas carrying me home … spilling my guts about Grant Fucking Johnson.

“Ugh!” I groaned, and my head throbbed as someone knocked on the door. I staggered over to answer it.

“Stink! Did you hear what happened to your ex?” Joel exclaimed as I opened the door. I took a step back and he moved into the apartment, stopping dead when he actually caught sight of me.

“Fuck, Mel, you look like shit!”

I rolled my eyes, then wished I hadn’t, clutching at my head. “I might’ve had a few too many cocktails last night,” I admitted, shuffling back to the kitchen and popping a couple of paracetamol.

Joel snickered. “Yeah, I got a message from Brad saying not to expect you for training this morning. Thought I’d better come and check that you hadn’t asphyxiated on your own puke.”

“Thanks for the visual,” I grunted, sitting back down at the kitchen table. Joel sat opposite me. His mouth was turned up in amusement, but his eyes weren’t smiling.

“What happened to my ex?” I asked, picking up my water glass and tipping it, only to find it empty. Joel stood, taking it out of my hand and turning to the tap to fill it for me.

“Turn on Wolf Sports – you’ll hear all about it.”

I hobbled to the lounge and flicked the TV on.

“Breaking news from New South Wales this morning. Eastern Sydney Cockerels player Grant Johnson is in hospital in a serious but stable condition after being stabbed in a bar room brawl in Bondi in the early hours of the morning. Johnson, who was celebrating his buck’s night, was rushed to Saint Bernard’s Hospital to be treated for a stab wound to the shoulder.

“Police are calling for any witnesses who have not yet come forward to contact Sydney Metropolitan Police on …”

I turned away from the TV in shock.

“Yeah, that was how I looked when I heard too,” Joel said as he collapsed down beside me, passing the water to me.

I burst into tears.

“Hey, Stinky, what’s wrong?” Joel asked, taking the glass away before slinging an arm around my shoulders. I shook and his arm tightened, pulling me against his chest.

“I don’t know!” I sobbed against his shirt. “Last night I … I kind of had a breakdown about Grant. We saw Susie on her hen’s night and it was a bit … triggering.”

Joel’s warm breath stirred my hair as he sighed, his hand smoothing the tangled waves away from my face.

“It’s just … weird,” I continued, “that last night I was … I told them – Brad and Amanda – how he broke me, and now, someone’s tried to break him .”

Joel’s muscles tensed. “This is not your fault, you know that, don’t you, Stink?”

I shook my head. “Of course it’s not, but …”

“No buts! He got in a drunken fight with some louts, this is what happens to arseholes like him who think they’re tougher than they are. Nothing to do with you at all. Don’t you waste any of your energy on that dickhead. You are not broken – he is.”

I hiccuped, the sobs dissipating as quickly as they had begun. I pushed away from Joel’s chest, unable to meet his eyes.

“Sorry I cried all over you,” I mumbled. Joel looked down, as if just noticing that his shirt was completely drenched.

“My shirt is always available to soak up your tears, Mel,” he murmured, before jumping up and heading to the kitchen.

“I’ll make you some toast,” he said, before I had a chance to process what he’d just told me.