Page 89 of Broken Beyond Repair

“We’re right for each other, Rosie — in so many ways. I hoped she’d be brave.”

“Brave? She’s an international star. She doesn’t get to be who she wants to be; she gets to be who she has to be. Have you been brave and told her how you feel? How you really feel? You can’t expect her to when she’s the one that has everything to lose.”

Sydney stuttered. “No.”

Rosie was right, she’d shown intention, she’d implied her feelings, yet not told Beatrice the depth of them. Would that make the difference? Was it time to say those words that we keep under the surface, the things we’re too afraid to say?

“I’ll call you back.”

Hanging up the phone, she ran towards the lounge, only to find a security guard blocking her.

“I’m with Beatrice Russell,” she explained. “I need to speak to her. I forgot to tell her something.”

“Then call her. You can’t come through here without a valid ticket or VIP pass. Do you know how many loonies we get here, pretending they’re with some star or other? Ha, you must think I was born yesterday.”

“I was here, saying goodbye, like five minutes ago,” Sydney said, her body twitching with agitation.

“I didn’t see you.”

Realising she was getting nowhere, and she didn’t fancy her chances at running past him, she retreated outside and tapped out a message on her phone, hoping she wasn’t too late.

Beatrice took a seat on a leather sofa and took a gulp of the coffee she was presented with by the attendant.

Ouch!

The heat burned as much as walking away from Sydney had. She couldn’t stand long goodbyes, especially those she didn’t want to be making anyway. It was best to get this one over with before she became unravelled.

Her phone vibrated on the glass table.

You’ve left something behind.

What could she possibly have left behind? Unless the concierge left one of her bags in the car.

She retraced her limping steps to the entrance, passing a grumpy security guard. Jonathon was two paces behind to deal with him.

There she was again. Sydney. She lifted her sunglasses onto the top of her head and made her way outside.

“What did I leave?”

“Me.”

Beatrice’s eyelids dropped as she came to stop in front of her. “Sydn—”

“Hear me out, okay? I don’t think I told you how I really feel, and I need to tell you in case it changes how you feel.” Sydney paused for a breath. “I told you once that you had all my attention. I meant it. You have all of it. You have all of me, Beatrice; my head, my heart, my body. I have nothing left.”

“Sydney,” Beatrice replied with compassion. Although it was everything she wanted to hear, this wasn’t helping an already tricky situation. Sydney’s honesty wasn’t going to change the position she was in.

“I’m sorry,” Sydney continued, beginning to ramble nervously. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I can’t live with the regret of not saying it. You once asked me how I found you.”

“I did.”

“I have my answer.”

Beatrice braced herself.

“You have a strong sense of self, but you let everything that’s happened to you in the past control you. You believe keeping people at a distance will protect you. Your parents hurt you; you picked yourself up and you carried on, only for the next person you let get close to you to hurt you too. Are you really concerned about what coming out will mean for your career, or are you afraid to let someone in again?”

In truth, it was both.