Page 105 of Capturing Love

Laughing at the blind selection of The Stranger by Billy Joel, I opted for something a little louder. The bold guitar intro of AC/DC’s Back in Black filled my apartment as I gloved up and precariously removed the cell phone from the foul-smelling bag.

My teeth gnashed as I gazed at the screen.

Grayson: 4 missed calls

Grayson: Please pick up. I need to talk to you about something. It’s important.

“A little late, Grayson,” I grumbled, trying to push him from my mind.

With more force than necessary, I switched off my phone and turned on the tap.

As I incisively scrubbed away the grime, I thought about my parents. The despair I felt after losing them was as real in that moment as the day it happened, except they didn’t choose to leave.

The water flowing from the faucet mirrored the tears spilling down my face as all the emotion I held onto so tightly crept to the surface. A sob rattled my body, causing my cell to slip from my soapy hands into the shallow water below. “No,” I cried, desperately fishing it out and shaking off the water.

I grabbed a plastic bag from the cupboard and filled it with rice, before throwing my phone inside and sealing it shut. I knew the protocol. After losing my last phone to the toilet bowl a year ago, Reed showed me what to do if it happened again. It did. Hopefully my phone’s brief swim wouldn’t cause any permanent damage, but only time would tell.

Just before midday, I crawled back into bed with puffy, bloodshot eyes and stewed over Adam’s revelations. He may have been harsh, but at least he was honest. He had a whole twenty-nine years of intel on Grayson to know his next move, and I’d stupidly ignored him. All I had with Grayson was seven months of…what? A relationship? Barely. We were a secret. A secret that almost cost the life of the woman he clearly loved.

Loud banging jerked me out of my sleep. It was dark out, but I had no idea what time it was, or what year, for that matter. I dragged my feet to the front door, rubbing my swollen eyes and looked through the peephole. A huge blue eyeball filled my vision and I stumbled backwards. What the fuck?

“Come on, Josie, open up! I know you’re in there,” Amy called out.

Luci whimpered at my feet as I opened the door a fraction. “How did you get up here?”

Amy grinned. “I snuck in behind your neighbour.” She pushed past my lax stance and I followed her to the living room. “Why is your phone off? I’ve been trying to call you all afternoon,” she said, leaning over to pat Luci’s head.

“I’ve…um…been in bed.”

Amy turned my way as I lowered my eyes. “Oh no, are you sick?”

“No.” I exhaled and lifted my despondent gaze to meet hers.

Her face fell. “Josie, what happened?”

I gave her the short version, minus the emotion I was trying to compartmentalise.

Amy’s eyebrows rose as she assessed the images from Melanie’s social media account on her own cell phone. “I guess even I get things wrong sometimes,” she uttered with a long sigh.

“It’s fine.” I shrugged, refusing to let myself shed another tear. “I guess he was just sowing his wild oats before settling down with someone more…suited.”

She reached for my hand. “I don’t think it was like tha—”

“Ames, I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” I said, clenching my jaw. “I just want to forget.”

Amy fell momentarily silent. “Well I can definitely help with that.”

I peered up at her, half expecting her to pull out some magic crystal, but she smiled instead.

“Go get dressed,” she said, pushing me towards my bedroom. “We have a new year to celebrate.”

As I pulled my soft leather jacket over my vintage Bowie t-shirt, I reviewed my look in the mirror. My fitted ripped jeans and heels topped off my rocker chick vibe, making me feel sexy, and purposely intimidating. I planned on getting drunk, not hit on.

“Are you ready?” Amy called out from the living room. “I told Pete we’d be at The Edge in twenty.”

I stared at my reflection through a haze. “Almost.” With sharp ache in my chest, I unclasped my delicate opal necklace and let it slide from my hand onto the bathroom bench below. “Let’s go!”

Midnight was approaching, and I was well on my way to drunkville. Most of the Maude team were there, because we barely had time to maintain friendships outside of work. Amy was making moves on some hot British backpacker, and Pete was entertaining two women, both vying for his attention before the clock struck twelve. I just sat alone in the booth, sipping my whiskey, watching and wondering.