Miles Apart

by A. L. Brooks

  They’d started to have bigger arguments in the few weeks prior to that fateful night; Alex’s job had been demanding following her promotion, and she’d been coming home late more often than not. Terri was resentful all of a sudden. But Alex had truly believed the bedrock of their partnership was still firm, even if it was changing. Discovering that Terri had fallen into the arms of another woman, out of the blue, had literally pulled the ground out from underneath Alex. Everything she thought they were built on had crumbled to dust in just two minutes. The two minutes it took for Terri to say haltingly, through her sobs, “I’m sorry, babe, so sorry, but…that night I didn’t come home last week, when I said we were out celebrating that deal? I… Oh God, I slept with Liz. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know how it happened…”

  Shock was an extraordinary thing, causing a person to do irrational things that afterwards they either couldn’t remember or couldn’t understand. She’d been reading a book on her Kindle before Terri had asked to speak to her, and she remembered calmly picking it up after Terri’s blurted confession, switching it off and slipping it back into its case before she realised some kind of response was required. It was a delayed reaction, she knew now, brought on by hearing something so unbelievable, so awful, that her brain couldn’t quite catch up with the words it had been given to work with. But when it did, when it finally sunk in that her partner of five years had just told her that she’d slept with someone else, the pain that had swept through her entire body was like nothing she’d ever felt before.

  Shadows of that pain racked her now as she perched on the edge of the toilet, her arms wrapped round herself in a vain attempt to cocoon herself from more agony. It wouldn’t go away, she knew that now. She would never be able to look at Terri and not feel some measure of this, on some level. And, for the first time since she’d naively promised Terri she would try to forgive her and work for them to stay together, Alex knew that Danielle’s words were probably true. Their relationship was more than likely doomed, because how could it not be when this ache wouldn’t leave her?

  When she returned to the table, Danielle looked relieved, although concern was etched across her features.

  “Alex, are you all right? I am so sorry—”

  “No, it’s okay. Please don’t apologise,” Alex said, her voice raspy from crying. “You just hit a nerve, that’s all. But…nothing of what you said is untrue.” Danielle’s frown deepened. “It’s up to me now to decide what to do about it.”

  She was interrupted by their meals arriving, and she glanced down at her plate with no appetite for the beautifully presented food in front of her. She looked back up at Danielle, who was also ignoring her food for the moment.

  “I’m going to take the week away to try and be honest with myself about how I’m feeling. Deep down, I think I know we are doomed, as you say. But doing something about that isn’t easy. Nor is walking away. Not after five years together.”

  “I know, Alex. But you have to do what is right for you. No matter what promises you have made each other since then, yes?”

  Alex sighed. “I know.”

  They stared at each other for a few moments.

  “Eat here or takeaway?” Danielle gestured at their plates.

  Alex smiled. “Rather fancy for a doggy bag, isn’t it?”

  Danielle smiled.

  “No, I should eat here,” Alex continued. “I know if I take it back to the office, I’ll probably end up throwing it away.” She exhaled and looked back at the meal before her. “Come on, let’s eat.”

  They ate in silence, for the most part, commenting only on the high quality of the food—something they’d come to expect from every visit here anyway. Danielle insisted on paying, and Alex couldn’t muster the energy to argue with her. She’d get the next one.

  “Now,” Danielle said, “it has occurred to me that Sonia is in Montreal again at the moment. Do you remember her?”

  Alex cocked her head, racking her memory banks. Sonia… “Oh, hang on, yes. Your cousin, the one who lives in New York? I met her at your fortieth, didn’t I?”

  Danielle beamed. “Yes! You and she got on well, I think?”

  Alex nodded. “Yeah, she was a lot of fun.”

  “Excellent,” Danielle said, slipping her credit card back in her purse and dropping some coins onto the table to tip the waitress. “Well, she splits her time between various cities these days—far too much money for her own good, really. Anyway, I am fairly certain she is in Montreal this month, for some charity event she is helping to put together for an AIDS foundation. How about I contact her and see if she would meet up with you, maybe treat you to lunch one day? It might be nice for you to meet a friendly face while you are over there.”

  “Danielle, I don’t know. I’m not exactly the best company right now.” Thinking about being sociable with someone, especially someone as bubbly as Sonia, started a tangle of nerves buzzing in her stomach.

  Danielle waved a hand lackadaisically in the air in front of her. “Rubbish,” she said. “Look, I will simply put you in contact with each other. Whether you meet up with her is entirely up to you, but at least you will have the details of someone you could meet with if you were inclined. All right?”

  Knowing when she was beaten, Alex shrugged. “Okay, deal.”

  They said their goodbyes outside the restaurant. Danielle wrapped her long arms around Alex and held her slightly tighter than usual.

  “Please take care of yourself,” she whispered. “I am very worried about you.”

  “I know you are,” Alex said, squeezing her friend tightly against her. “But like I said, I plan on making the most of this week away from Terri to really sort through my feelings. I promise I’ll look after myself in the process.”

  They pulled apart, and Danielle placed a soft kiss on Alex’s cheek.

  “Call or e-mail anytime, and we will do dinner as soon as you are back.”

  Chapter 4

  Justine indulged in a long sleep in on Saturday morning, finally rousing from her bed around eleven. Another joy she’d rediscovered for herself since the breakup with Nadia. Nadia had been a fitness fanatic and was always out of bed at the break of dawn on the weekends. Justine had shared her interest in cycling and often joined her on the long rides she took out of the city. But the visits to the fitness centre Nadia insisted on fitting in around the cycling were not to Justine’s liking at all, so on the mornings when Nadia leapt out of bed early to take part in a Zumba class, or whatever fad was Nadia’s flavour of that month, Justine would stay home and play house. Of course, hindsight was a wonderful thing, but she should have perhaps realised that fitness classes didn’t really take that many hours in a day.

  As she made herself a coffee and heated up a couple of croissants, once again the embarrassment of not realising her partner had been having an affair swept through her body, flushing her skin and increasing her heart rate. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have believed all the lies Nadia told her? When Nadia came home sweaty and in desperate need of a shower, Justine had never thought to check what else she smelt of. If she’d have stepped close enough, she knew now, she would surely have picked up the scent of the sex Nadia was having for hours on end with the instructor she’d seduced six months before Justine had found out.

  And finding out had only been a fluke. She had a quiet week and on a day with no meetings scheduled, Justine had excused herself from work and swung by the fitness centre to see if Nadia wanted to grab lunch at the end of the spin class she was taking. Justine still remembered how incredibly painful it was to stand across the street from the entrance to the centre and see Nadia in a passionate clinch with that…that woman. Heather. The tall, impossibly gorgeous and superbly muscled woman who had let Nadia into her bed at the drop of a hat, despite knowing Nadia was in a long-term relationship. Despite having met Justin
e with Nadia at a social event only a month before they’d started their affair. Heather had known Nadia was unavailable, she knew Justine existed, and yet…

  Justine sighed as she settled herself in the window seat with her breakfast. Blaming Heather was deflecting. Nadia was the one who had made all the moves. Nadia was the one who had lied to Justine, had broken her heart. Nadia was the one who had dismissed Justine, and all that they had, with one wave of her hand when Justine confronted her about it that night.

  “I’m bored, Justine,” she’d said in a tired and uncaring voice. “What we have doesn’t do anything for me anymore. I mean, I like you, and we live together really well. But, you have to admit, the sex has really trailed off lately, hasn’t it? You’re always tired, and you don’t seem to want to do half the things I do.”

  Everything about that statement had hurt. Deeply. Justine had compromised on all her desires and needs to please Nadia, and just like that, Nadia had thrown it all back at her as if none of it mattered. But Justine could now accept that Nadia had done her a favour. In being so cruel and heartless, she had made Justine’s decision easy. Within a few hours, Justine had called Christina and Sylvie to ask for their help, packed up all her belongings, and loaded up their car. It had taken two trips, and it had crammed their guest room to the rafters, but they’d done it. Nadia, who had left after the confrontation, had seemed genuinely shocked to return home that evening and find Justine in the last stages of moving out.

  “But…why?” she had asked, her eyes wide.

  Justine had let rip. To this day she couldn’t remember exactly what she’d said, only her parting words.

  “You’ve broken my heart, Nadia. I loved you. So much.” Her voice had cracked. “And you’ve just walked all over that like it meant nothing. Nothing! So yes, I’m moving out. Of course I am. I never want to see you again.”

  She had walked past a stunned Nadia to the front door and slammed it behind her without looking back.

  It had taken a few weeks, but eventually she’d found this apartment, and she was delighted with it. Only one bedroom, but it had a great little balcony that was a gorgeous sun trap in summer. A polished wood floor and big windows framed with rich, dark wood gave it some character, and she’d decorated it with a mismatched assortment of furniture and soft furnishings to give it a distinctly bohemian vibe. A far cry from the sterile, minimalist environment she’d lived in with Nadia.

  She gazed out at the quiet street below. The window seat was her favourite place in the whole apartment. The window ledge was wide, and she’d scattered cushions on it to be able to sit and watch the world go by outside. She leaned back against one side of the alcove and propped her feet against the other.

  She wouldn’t say she was totally happy these days. Not yet. But the progress she’d made in the last eighteen months had been, for the most part, good. The one-night stands had been—usually—a nice distraction from the ache in her wounded heart. Her job was going well, and she had a great place to live and two wonderful friends to spend time with. She was lonely, she could admit that much. But equally, she could admit she was still damaged goods and definitely not ready for something more meaningful. She had time; she was only thirty-eight. Plenty of time to get her heart ready for someone new to steal it away.

  Her phone rang on the table across the room. She debated not answering to give herself an entire weekend of freedom, but then gave in and stumbled across the room before the call went to voicemail.

  “Bonjour, Justine. Comment ça va?” Sylvie’s silken voice sounded in her ear.

  “Hey, Sylvie. I’m good, how are you?”

  “Bon, merci. I’m calling because Christina is abandoning me for the week.” Justine laughed as she heard a muffled cry in the background. Sylvie giggled. “Okay, perhaps not abandoning. But she has to go away, and I wondered if you and I could perhaps meet at Lèvres on Monday night? It’s a long time since I have been. I know it is short notice.”

  Justine smiled. “Hey, no problem. I’d love to go. I think it’s been long enough since the last time I made a fool of myself there that people won’t remember.”

  Sylvie laughed. “You did not make a fool of yourself. You just had a good time.”

  “Um, Sylvie, I drank so much I fell down the stairs and had to be carried out to the car by you and Christina. If that’s not making a fool of yourself, I don’t know what is.” But Justine was laughing too. She’d been embarrassed the next morning, but having stayed away from Lèvres for a few weeks now, she did feel she could walk back in with her head held high. “But anyway, yes, count me in. I would love to go.”

  They made arrangements for a time to meet, then hung up. Justine set her phone back down on the table, smiling to herself. A night out at the start of the week. It could get messy, but she’d just make sure she was on her best behaviour to avoid that. Although, of course, if there was someone who caught her eye…

  She rolled her eyes at herself. Apparently, some habits were going to be hard to break.

  Alex zipped up the case and clicked the buckles together on the straps that pulled the lid tight against the base. Packing hadn’t taken that long. Business trips were always fairly easy to pack for—a couple of suits with different shirts to mix and match through the week, and two rather more casual outfits for eating by herself in the hotel in the evening. Or meeting up with Sonia.

  She was still undecided about that, but Sonia had e-mailed Friday night to say she’d be delighted to spend time with Alex and had suggested brunch on Sunday. That didn’t sound so bad. She remembered Sonia being a bit of a party animal, so Alex supposed she should be grateful Sonia hadn’t suggested going clubbing until the wee hours of the morning.

  Although, the way she was feeling lately, maybe a night out to let off steam would be a good thing. She’d been so focused on her job and her floundering relationship, she was wound as tight as a drum. She’d pushed so hard to get that promotion, the culmination of everything she’d worked for over the years, but now she’d reached that pinnacle, she was a little deflated. If working that hard had contributed to weakening the foundations of her relationship with Terri, had it really been worth it? Lately she’d been resentful of her job, even as she sank herself further into it to avoid going home.

  She exhaled. A week away. A week to think about what to do next and to try to relax. Her schedule wasn’t demanding, not compared to what it had been on previous visits. So maybe she had some room in it to attempt some fun. She shook her head. She wasn’t sure she could remember what fun was.

  Alex glanced around the room, making sure she’d got everything. Her gaze fell on Terri’s discarded jeans on the chair in the corner of the room, and her body flushed with mixed reactions—memories of how hot Terri had looked in them the night before, coupled with sadness at how things had been left between them this morning.

  “I don’t think I’ll hang around until you go,” Terri had muttered over their morning coffee. “I’ve got some things I could do with catching up on at the office.”

  Alex was a little disgruntled, then admonished herself for being unfair. How could she expect Terri to make any effort with her this morning when things had been so tense between them all week? They’d barely spoken to each other after dinner the night before and gone to bed at different times.

  Terri left shortly after finishing her coffee, declining Alex’s half-hearted offer of breakfast. She gave Alex a perfunctory kiss goodbye before picking up her handbag and walking swiftly down the hallway. The door had slammed shut behind her.

  Alex sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on her sneakers, then wrapped a soft scarf around her neck over her long-sleeved shirt. Standing, she checked herself in the mirror one last time. She sighed. Her green eyes looked dull and lifeless. She flicked a few stray strands of her long fringe away from her forehead. Even her hair looked a shade duller tha
n its usual glowing auburn. She leaned closer. Was that what she thought it was? Yep, great—more wrinkles around the corners of her eyes.

  She turned slightly to her left and back again; her jeans looked a little loose on her hips. She wouldn’t be surprised if she’d lost more weight. It had been gradually coming off these past few months. Stress and the resulting loss of appetite had done her a favour in helping her drop the extra five pounds or so she could never quite shift. But she didn’t need to lose any more; already her cheeks were showing a hint of hollowing. She noted her pale skin, her Irish ancestry doing her proud, and sighed again. What she wouldn’t give for a couple of weeks in the sun somewhere.

  She squared her shoulders. The car service would be here any minute and standing around here feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to achieve anything.

  She hauled her case and laptop bag out to the hallway and pulled on her soft ankle boots. Just as she was checking that her passport was in her handbag, the door buzzer rang. She let the driver in and smiled politely when he appeared moments later on the doorstep, reaching for her case before she’d even had a chance to say good morning.

  As she swung the door to her home closed behind her, a wave of something indefinable swept over her. She shuddered with it, swamped in sadness, regret, and yes, relief. A week away. God, she hoped to hell she could get her head sorted in that time. Because this really had gone on long enough now.

  Heathrow was busy but manageable. And, of course, she was thankful to be flying business class, which meant she was able to use the lounge before boarding. As she eased herself into one of the plush armchairs, a glass of champagne—why not?—in her hand, she gazed out the window at the activity on the tarmac below.