Page 162 of The Long Way Home

I can’t tell what she’s thinking? Can’t tell if she’s about to cry or hit me or laugh, no idea where this is going. Honestly, I didn’t even mean to say it, it just slipped out. Felt like I owed her the truth at least.

Then she blinks quickly a few times and shakes her head.

“Okay,” she says and then tugs me down towards her again.

“Wait—” I pull back. “Did you not hear what I said?”

She nods. “Yep.”

I give her a look. “You don’t care?”

She shakes her head. “Nope.”

And then she tugs my trousers off.

∞

The next night it’s Jo’s event. That champagne one at his club.

And I’m well in my head by the time it rolls around, because I know what happens next.

I shouldn’t have slept with Jordan. Feel shitty about that. Both for her and for myself. Maybe I shouldn’t feel shitty because I guess she still technically is my girlfriend — but she shouldn’t be, and I do.

We need to break up, I know we do. I don’t know why she didn’t break up with me when I told her, don’t know why she went along with it, had sex with me anyway. Grateful she did, it’s what I wanted — at the time at least — now in retrospect I feel fucked in my head about it. Like I’m up to my old shit again and I don’t want to be but I am anyway because it works.

It’s a bit shit of me but before I call it with Jordan, I’m kind of just waiting to see where that fucking east wind blows us. If Magnolia walks into Jo’s tonight with Rush on her arm, then fuck it — me and Jordan? I’ll give it another go.

Managed to convince J not to come tonight… That took a bit of convincing and some not-so subtle bribery but I think she had a good day.

Breakfast at Chiltern Firehouse. A lot of photos there, then she practically bought out Fendi on New Bond, then Sketch for lunch. I got stopped for a bunch of photos and she posed with me in every single one. Made me feel a bit sick in case Parks sees them — who knows what she’d think? What she’d do? Hit me? Fight me on the street? Call Jack-Jack? Fuck, I’d rather take the hit.

I get to Jo’s club and go find him deep within it.

Roped off area, surrounded by girls — guess it must be Henry’s night tonight? I grimace at the sight of it. Seems a mess, bottles everywhere, a girl on his lap, his hand up her dress — but who the fuck am I to judge.

“Oi,” I sit down next to him.

He slings an arm around me. “Holding up?”

I nod. “She here?”

“Not yet.” He shakes his head as he shifts that girl off his lap. He turns to me. “You two sorted your shit out yet?”

I reach over to pour myself a drink and sigh. Give him a look that says no without me having to say it.

“I think we’re done.” I give him a weak shrug. I want him to tell me I’m wrong.

He sort of does when he rolls his eyes. “You always think you’re done.”

I give him a look. “Actually, the problem is I never think we’re done—”

“Because you won’t ever be with her.” He gives me a pointed look. “It’s her.”

“I know.” I toss my drink back, pour another.

Jo rolls his head back, annoyed. “You were so close.”

“You didn’t fucking help—” I whack him in the stomach. “Calling her the other woman, you idiot.”