* * *
Chapter 13:
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It was sunny when they landed at Chania airport in Crete. The wind was cool and smelled of jet fuel, but without the breeze, the sun warmed. Alex was squeezed into him on the taxi ride to their hotel, through traffic that seemed dangerous. She had her hand splayed over his stomach, absently playing with one of his buttons. He couldn't help it, but it annoyed him.
It wasn't that Alex annoyed him, it was more her expectations. They had spent the last two months together, every spare moment, and he felt like he couldn't do anything without checking with her. The weight of her expectations was pushing him down.
Standing in line for the check in, the boys organised to head down the road for a drink.
"I'm a bit tired. I think I'll have a nap," Alex said. "I'm starting my vacation the right way.”
"I might go with the boys.” Marco waited for her to react, unsure how she would. This is what he hated: having to ask her for permissions in case it offended her, or wasn't in line with how she saw Alex and Marco Incorporated.
"Oh, okay," she said with a weak smile. She was disappointed, but at the moment, he wanted to spend some time with the boys. He wanted some time away from the pressure. They were spending every spare moment together and he felt he needed to cut loose for a bit.
After finding their room, Marco put his bag down. "I'll go meet the boys downstairs.”
"Please don't make this a vacation where you spend the entire time drunk.”
Marco felt his annoyance rise. "I'm not. But I'm on vacation too," he said. "I'll see you later.” He felt suffocated. He didn't mean to, but it was how he felt at the moment. Maybe he was just in a funky mood. In truth, a sense of unease had set in even back when he met with Sam at Harrods. Sam with her baby and head-first rush into being a grown up, and sometimes he felt Alex was pushing too hard in that direction. He wasn't ready to be a husband and a father, and he lived in dread of hearing something in that direction coming out of Alex's mouth—something like 'Why don't we get married?'. Not that she'd given any indication in that direction. Luckily there were no bride magazines littered across her room, but her enthusiasm for spending a lazy Sunday afternoon at the pub was increasingly waning, instead wanting to spend time at IKEA looking at kitchen towels.
Finding the boys downstairs, they walked down the road and claimed a table at a bar with an awesome view along the beach. The drinks weren't cheap, but the view made up for it. Dion immediately started on his story from the previous weekend, where he'd woken up in some strange girl's bed, scrambling to get out of it and making his way home, having lost his wallet, shirt, phone and shoes. Marco hadn't laughed so hard in a long time and he slowly started to relax.
"How's it going between you and Alex?" Sean asked, a guy who worked in Edinburgh, but sometimes joined them.
"Good," Marco said.
"She's a cool girl.”
"Yeah.”
"How long have you been together now?"
"Two months.”
"You going to move in together?"
Marco wanted to ask why he wanted to know, but knew it would come across as surly and he wasn't really sour at Sean for asking. He still didn't want to talk about it though, so he shrugged. Moving in together sounded like hell. He would lose any vestige of independence he had left.
He didn't want to think about it, or the fact that Alex likely wanted their relationship to head in that direction. Instead, he wanted to relax, tell stories, tease his mates and drink, of which he was probably doing too much. But he didn't like being told how much he could drink either. It was his choice how much he drank and if he passed out in the gutter, that was his choice too.
"I'm going down to breakfast," Alex's voice seeped into Marco's aching, woolly head. Christ, it was bright. He pulled a pillow over his head.
"I'll be down in a moment.”
"Take your time.” She sounded disappointed in him. He could be imagining that, but it was likely true, even if she hid it.
The door clicked shut behind her and Marco swore. He probably should have taken more care, but he was just in a funny mood yesterday. Maybe he had just needed a burn out. His head pounded as he dragged himself out of the bed and into the shower. There may be repercussions from the previous night, he thought as he let the warm water sooth his aching body and he discovered an angry mystery bruise on his side.
He wasn't the only one who hadn't made it downstairs nice and early. Gavin and Lyssa were still in their room, sleeping or getting it on.
Marco tucked into a plate of eggs and bacon, and slowly started to feel better.
"We're going shopping," Sarah said. "You can come if you want to.”
"No, go on. I think my poor body needs to recover from last night. I won't be able to keep my breakfast down if I have to walk around town.”
"Your loss," Sarah said and stood up. The girls all followed, except Lyssa, who was still upstairs. He suspected the girls weren't all that sorry. They weren't unkind to her, but they weren't comfortable around her either.
After the girls left, the boys retreated to the sunbeds by the pool. It was too cold to swim, but the sun was nice. Marco closed his eyes and willed his body to recover. He wasn't sure how he felt, but he didn't want to spend the day carrying Alex's shopping bags around. Maybe they were in trouble. He didn't want it to be so, but just the mere thought of her was rubbing him the wrong way.
At the restaurant further down the tourist district, Alex sat on the other side of the table at dinner, ignoring him. Marco groaned. She was pissed at him. He couldn't blame her; he'd been pushing her away the last couple of days.
At one point, he caught her eyes and she glared at him unhappily. He tried to smile at her, but she looked away. Losing his appetite, he ordered another drink. He didn't know how to fix this. He didn't want Alex angry and unhappy, but he didn't feel like he could suppress how he was feeling either.
Making their way to a club, the girls danced, while the boys sat back and watched. Alex was still ignoring him, but finally came and sat down next to him later in the evening. "You've been a total prick all day," she said.
"I know. I'm sorry.”
"Why?"
He shrugged. "I've just been in a funny mood.”
"Why is it that every time I go away with my boyfriend, he turned into an all-out arsehole.”
Marco didn't know what he could say that would make this go away, but he also wasn't sure he wanted to leave this unaddressed either. Something wasn't working for him, and it wasn’t just how easily Alex put him in the same category as Gavin. "We just want different things," he finally said before he'd really thought of what he was doing. It had just come out. Now was the time for this discussion, even if he didn't want to have it. Alex just stared at him, her green eyes catching the light. "I just feel like we're going too fast sometimes. You want us to be a couple all the time.”
"What?" she said, confusion and anger etched on her face. Her face drew tight with annoyance. "I'm not eighteen anymore and I don't want to act like it. I don't want to drink every night. It's boring.”
"Well, I don't find it boring. Sometimes, I like hanging out with my mates. I like relaxing with a few friends and a few drinks.”
Alex got up and marched away. She was being unreasonable. Marco sat back and ran his hand over his face. He couldn't live with this misalignment either. He wasn't what she wanted him to be and he'd tried, but it wasn't working. Their Christmas together had been awful—dull beyond comparison, with the exception of the sex. But sex wasn’t enough—sadly. And now they were getting under each other’s skin. But he couldn't just leave it like this. He went in search of her.
"Alex," he said when he founding her sitting on a bench down the street. It was dark, but all the restaurants and bars were lit up to appear exciting and attract customers.
"What do you want?"
"We need to talk.”
"What's there to talk about?"
"Alex," he
said, pulling her hand into his. She let him, but she wasn't really participating. "You know I care for you. You're the coolest girl I've ever met, but I never intended on getting into a relationship. It's just so full on. I wish we could slow things down a bit.”
"You can't half do a relationship, Marco," she accused. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't even really sure how they'd gotten here. "So now what?" she asked with an over-exaggerated shrug. She was close to tears.
He couldn't see a way out of this. "I think we should spend a bit of time apart. Then maybe start again.”
"No!" she said. "You can't do things by half measures. You're either in or out, and from the sounds of it, you're out.”
He wanted to say that he wasn’t, but knew it wasn’t entirely true. He wasn’t happy and he couldn’t hide it, even if he wanted to. “We can talk about this,” he said, wishing they could reach a compromise. He didn’t want to lose her.
"There is nothing to talk about. I'm done.” She stood up and strode away, her shoulders tight and her arms wrapped around her chest.
"Alex," he called after her, but she ignored him. "Fuck," he yelled in frustration to no one in particularly. He hadn't intended on them breaking up, or maybe he had. He just needed something to change.
Alex's stuff was gone by the time he got back to the room. She'd either left of taken another room. They were all flying home again tomorrow anyway. He wanted to find her so they could talk more, but he knew she wanted nothing to do with him that night. She was too angry. And what was there to say?
How had things gone so wrong? But equally, he felt torn because there was a part of him that was relieved.
* * *
Chapter 14:
* * *
Sitting on a bench, Alex shook her head while ignoring the ice-cream Rachel had placed in her hand. The morning sun was warm and they were all waiting for the bus taking them to the airport. The boys were off eating breakfast, but Alex couldn't stomach anything and she certainly didn't want to sit in the hotel's restaurant across from Marco watching him inhale food. That would just be intolerable, as had staying in their room the previous evening. Instead, she had packed her things haphazardly and stayed in Rachel's room, refusing to cry until she heard the unmistakable sounds of Rachel sleeping.
"How is it I never see these things coming? I think everything is fine, then bang, it's over," Alex stated. “How can I be utterly clueless when these things come?”
"Maybe he didn't intend for it to end?" Rachel said tentatively. "You guys were so good together. You were a really cute couple. If you two can't work it out, it makes you wonder who can?"
"Apparently, it just wasn't what he wanted and that is what he said—not wanting to be a couple all the time. What's that supposed to mean? We'll only be a couple half the time? I shouldn't demand his time, wait at home for when he's in the mood to see me. Seriously? Like he thinks I'd be okay with being his booty call, or something? Is that seriously how guys think? Just bullshit. Arsehole. I'm done. Done with boys. They're ignorant arseholes," Alex ranted. The worse was that they were on the same flight back. The least he could have done was do it somewhere where a clean break was possible. Now she would have to spend the next four hours ignoring him. "He never intended to get into a relationship, like oops, just fell into it. You'd think I kidnapped him or something. He was the one hitting on me. Then he just changes his mind. Don't feel like it anymore.” A sharp hand movement finalised her point.
"Just ignore him and get on with your life. You were doing fine before you met him.”
"I know. I was fine. All chilled and getting on with work. He was just a big distraction.”
"Not worth your time.”
Alex took a lick of the ice-cream, just to stop it from melting down on her hand. "And Gavin's probably laughing his arse off.”
"Well, he's an even bigger jerk. He can laugh all he wants, but he's never getting you back.”
"Damn right," Alex confirmed.
The next few hours were torture. Alex spent most of the time at the airport in the bathroom, coming out just before boarding time. She bought a Marie Claire magazine and spent most of the flight engrossed in it, or seemingly so when her thoughts wandered. Again, she couldn't believe that she hadn't seen it coming. She'd had no inkling of it. Or else, he was just really fickle. Basically, this relationship was cramping his style because he wanted to be out with the boys, drinking and picking up girls. Well, all the best luck to him. Whatever.
Alex left the group as soon as they landed, saying she wanted to buy something. She didn't want any more sympathy, or feeling Marco's glances on her every now and then. This was all her fault for being so stupid.
Her room was a sight for sore eyes. Finally having some privacy, she could snuggle into her bed and watch a bit of mindless TV—after throwing out the little clock he had bought her and changing his contact name of her phone to 'fuckwit'. She would defriend him on Facebook tomorrow when she could be bothered. She certainly didn't want to see his updates; although realistically, he was part of her group of friends so getting away without ever seeing him would be near impossible, whether online or for real.
She wished she didn't have to go to work tomorrow, but then it was better than lying in bed and sulking.
The whole near future she'd foreseen was gone now. The only thing she had left was work, and her friends. Admittedly, there was shopping and reading. She'd have time to do the yoga class with her flatmates again, and everything else she'd put off because she'd thought it so important to hang out with Marco. Maybe she'd do that hard-core exercise boot-camp she'd hear about.
That was the last time she would put a guy ahead of her own interests, she decided. Now it was going to be all about work and what she wanted to do, and her friends. Guys sucked and she had enough proof now. They were just too immature. That was it: they were immature and there was no point trying to be in a relationship with one.
Looking back now at Gavin, she couldn't see what she'd been thinking. He was awful and she used to put up with that—going to the pub and doing nothing but sitting there, yakking about something completely insignificant. She'd wasted so much time. She had all of Europe to see, and mostly, she'd seen the pubs around Angel.
Kate was in the 'Peter's awesome' period when Alex got back to work. She would look up every time he walked past, practically gushing. Alex expected Kate felt really special at the moment, while Peter was still after her, but things would change. Alex also knew that Kate thought she was special in his eyes, and that Alex was just expressing sour grapes if she mentioned how unsuitable he was, because, obviously, Peter just wasn't into Alex.
Kate was so young. Had Alex really been that young just three years ago? Running after boys, thinking it would all work out. Alex would say the answer was to date someone older and more mature, but then there was the shining example of Peter, putting a death knell to that theory.
Unfortunately, there wasn't that much work for Alex to do. The pitch and presentation had been made, the client was deliberating and now it was just time to wait. She hadn't been given a new project yet and was left to tidy up her own stuff.
This went on for a week, where Alex had time to catch up on some industry mags and two month's worth of the company newsletters, delete scores of emails and clean up her files. She took full hours for lunch, browsed through the shops and tried not to think about how nervous she was. This waiting was awful.
She used to worry about winning this contract and having to deal with Marco losing it, but now she couldn't give a toss if he lost. It would be mortifying to lose if he won—better they both lost in that case.
Then it came. "Alex, can I talk to you?" Peter said, catching her browsing the internet.
"Sure," she said and smiled, knowing that this was it. She tried to get a reading off Peter's face, but he wasn't giving anything away. Still, she had a bad feeling in her gut. Peter walked into an unused meeting room and closed the door behind them. This was bad, Alex thought.
"They went with Jamieson and Poole," he said.
Alex felt her stomach drop, frowning she bit her lips together. Marco fucking won it. Alex refused to let herself cry, even though tears were prickling the back of her nose. She would never cry in front of Peter, even if someone cut one of her fingers off, she'd wager.
That was it; there was nothing else she could do. She had lost and it was final. Peter had said this was her chance to prove herself and she had screwed it up. She had no idea what would happen to her now. She wasn't the star they had hoped for, having failed at the first hurdle, her very first project. Not wanting to believe it, Alex's mind tried to find some way to see the positive, but there really wasn't any.
"I'm sorry," Peter said. "Sucks. You did a good pitch.”
"Thanks," she said absently.
Peter gave her a smile, which she wasn't sure was supposed to be encouraging or pitying. With a pat on her upper arm, he left the room, leaving Alex to process the news.
The news spread around the office like wildfire and before she had time to catch breath; she was getting condolences from all and sundry. It was awful, sounding like her own funeral march. They couldn't fire her, as such, but she was sure this wasn't good for her career. She had been warned from the beginning.
Sitting at her desk, she didn't know what to do with herself. She didn't really have any work on and it was awful sitting there with everyone in the office pitying her. She could feel Kate's quiet concern and pity emanating from her, but she didn't want sympathy, so Alex ignored her and everyone else. She'd had enough of that a week ago.
Opening a document on her computer, she stared at it, making it seem like she was doing something, but she was just staring at the screen. Would she even get another account? If not, what would she be doing? Would she have to go back to being support, same as Kate? This was supposed to be her breakout.
The Gamble (D'Arth Series Book 3) Page 9