by A. L. Brooks
Her friends nodded. “Endings are always painful, whatever form they take,” Danielle said. “But I am so proud of you for doing this, and for handling it the way you are. All of it—leaving Terri, not pursuing that woman in Montreal. A clean slate is exactly what you need to move on.”
Alex thought guiltily of the e-mail in her inbox. Danielle delivered her next question in a tone dripping with suspicion.
“What is that look for? That frown that crossed your face when I mentioned Montreal?”
Swallowing hard, Alex said quietly, “I still think about her. I…I kept her e-mail. I can’t quite seem to delete it.”
Beth frowned and Danielle sighed and slumped back in her chair. “Alex, my darling friend. What are you doing? It is bad enough you slept with her while you were still technically with Terri. But the fact that you are still thinking of contacting her is madness. To what end?”
Alex stood up suddenly and began pacing. “I don’t know,” she said, frustrated both at the line of questioning and her own stupid reluctance to let this go. “I know it’s crazy, I do. And I know I have to move on. I just wish—” She’d nearly blurted out her most secret desire, something she’d not dared to voice to anyone, and had barely acknowledged to herself.
“Wish what?” Danielle stared at her.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.” Alex turned away, unable to maintain eye contact under Danielle’s withering glare.
Danielle took hold of Alex’s arm and tugged her round to face her. “Tell me, please. I want to help you, if I can.”
Alex sighed. “I know what I did in Montreal was something you are not comfortable with. And I hate that I may have gone down in your estimation as a result. But,” she ploughed on before Danielle could interrupt, “you have to understand, or at least accept, something important about that. As crazy as it might seem, Justine and I had something so special that week. Something I yearn to have again. And yes, I know it would be impossible with her, and I will let go of this eventually. But she is just…there—” she tapped her head “—all the time. Crazy,” she finished, her mind throwing her an image of Justine on the dance floor, her eyes sparkling as she reached out to pull Alex close. Justine, who lived three thousand miles away and whose e-mail made it abundantly clear there was no way forwards for them regardless of that physical distance.
“I don’t think I realised quite what an impact she had on you. I made some assumptions about what was involved between you, that it was something superficial and meaningless. I am sorry, Alex, if I did not take it seriously. I let my own feelings about infidelity get in the way.”
“It’s okay. I understand.” Alex shook her head. “I didn’t ever really explain me and Justine to you, not completely.”
Danielle squeezed her hand. “At the end of the day, Alex, I just want you to be happy. I suppose I doubt whether pursuing Justine would lead to that, to be brutally honest.”
Alex smiled wanly. “You’re not the only one.”
Chapter 17
The restaurant was busier than she’d anticipated, given the weather, but its warmth was welcome as Justine shrugged out of her coat and handed it to the hostess.
“Do you have a reservation?”
“I’m here to meet someone; the reservation is in her name. Michelle Audet?”
“Oui, right this way.”
Sucking in a breath she hoped would calm her nerves, Justine followed the hostess through the throng of diners to a small table about two thirds of the way down the room. The woman who sat waiting for her was beautiful, of that there was no doubt. Dark hair cut in a sleek bob that touched her jawline, and an oval face that hinted at an Asian heritage. Although, she wore too much makeup. The lipstick was too bright, and the eye shadow too garish—
Justine closed her eyes briefly. She was already doing it. Finding fault with her date before she’d even sat down. Christina’s words rang in her mind.
“I know this isn’t easy, going through the whole proper-dating thing again, especially after we encouraged you with Alex and that all went to shit. But will you please just give them a chance? I still can’t believe you didn’t even go into the restaurant for the last one just because she was wearing a fur coat. You actually need to talk to these women, get to know them a little, before you make a decision. It’s as if you’re deliberately looking for the minutest fault to be able to escape the date.”
Unfortunately, Christina’s theory was true. Despite continuing to let her friends set her up on a steady stream of dates—this one would be the sixth since the new year started—Justine just couldn’t get into the swing of it. Something was always wrong. Not smart enough. Not funny enough. Not pretty enough.
Not…Alex.
That was the crux. Not one of the women she’d met so far had given her anything like the spark Alex possessed.
Bracing herself and plastering what she hoped was a warm smile on her face, she took the chair the hostess pulled out for her and sat.
“Hi, you must be Justine.” Michelle’s voice was soft and an octave lower than Justine would have anticipated for such a delicately featured woman.
“Nice to meet you, Michelle.”
“I ordered us champagne to start. I was in the mood.”
Justine bristled at Michelle’s presumptuousness—what if she hadn’t wanted champagne? She chastised herself. Champagne was a classic. And not cheap. Michelle was making an effort to impress. Give her some credit.
“Lovely,” Justine said, reaching for the glass the waiter placed on the table.
“I just love champagne,” Michelle gushed, picking up her own glass and tapping it against Justine’s, maintaining eye contact the entire time. Justine squirmed. The glint in Michelle’s eyes made her feel as if she were prey being sized up by a stealthy predator.
“So,” Michelle said, after taking a couple of sips of her drink, “Christina tells me you’re a project manager. What does that entail exactly?”
Over the next five minutes or so, Justine explained her current job to the intense woman across the table. Michelle’s gaze was intimidating, and a few times Justine was convinced Michelle wasn’t really listening to her. Instead, her eyes often roamed away from Justine’s—and usually down to the hint of cleavage visible in the V of the deep blue dress she’d chosen to wear for her date at what was a fairly prestigious restaurant. The venue had been Michelle’s choosing, and Justine soon realised why she’d picked somewhere so upmarket. As Justine finished talking about herself and gave Michelle an opening to do the same, Michelle grabbed it with both hands. Twenty minutes later, as their starters arrived, Justine knew she would not be seeing this woman again.
Michelle was completely self-absorbed. She owned a small chain of boutiques catering to the women of Montreal’s upper echelons and dropped names like confetti into the conversation continuously. It was nauseating.
Why on earth had Christina thought they’d be a good match? Yes, they were both professional, and Justine had insisted upon that. She needed to be with someone who understood the demands of her job; that plans might need to be rescheduled at the last moment if something urgent came up. Michelle would undoubtedly get that, but their similarities ended there. Yes, Michelle was attractive and had what looked like an amazing body. But she was way too pretentious and somewhat shallow, and Justine bit the inside of her cheeks on numerous occasions to avoid responding too honestly to something Michelle had said.
Declining dessert, Justine dusted off her faithful old tactic for escaping a situation she didn’t want to continue.
“Michelle, I’m very sorry to do this, but I have a migraine starting. I’m afraid I’m going to have to get my half of the check and leave.”
Michelle’s face fell comically. “Really? But we were having a wonderful time.” She pouted, but if she thought it looked cute, it was anything
but—her lipstick had bled slightly as she’d eaten, so now her mouth looked clown-like.
“I know. I can only assume it was the wine.” It was a cheap shot, but Justine had been more than irritated at Michelle’s insistence on ordering the overly rich Merlot with their meal. Something about Michelle’s arrogance had hindered Justine’s normal ability to stand up for herself, and that disturbed her. She’d acquiesced far too easily, and the embarrassment of that only aided her desire to escape. Right now.
She waved the waiter over and asked for the check.
“Can I drive you home?” Michelle asked as they settled up.
“No, that’s fine, my car is just round the corner,” Justine lied.
They retrieved their coats from the hostess and stepped out into the frigid air. Gentle snow fell, adding to the deep coating the city had been sent in the last few days.
“At least let me walk you to your car, make sure you get there safely.”
Shit.
“No, that’s fine. It is literally just one block over. Thank you so much for the evening.”
“Will we do it again?” Michelle’s voice dropped further, to a tone Justine had to admit was seductive. It was just a shame the rest of her didn’t match.
Suddenly sick of the lies and discomfort the evening had offered up, Justine opted for honesty.
“I don’t think so, Michelle. I think we’ve got more differences than we have similarities.”
Michelle’s eyes narrowed. “Sometimes that can be a good thing.”
Justine smiled wanly. “Not for me. Goodnight, Michelle.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked up the block. Turning at the first corner she came to, she marched to the next block and flagged down a cab. She couldn’t wait to get home. And call Christina so she could rant at her friend’s highly questionable taste in suitable dates.
“I thought you’d enjoy the challenge.” Christina’s protest was coupled with a host of chuckles.
“Seriously? What challenge?” Justine huffed.
“Michelle needs someone to take her down a peg—she’s a sweetheart when she’s not doing the whole ‘look at me, couturier to the rich and famous’ thing. I suppose I thought you’d see through that and be keen on what was underneath.”
“I saw no evidence of anything underneath that…gloss. Ugh, she set my teeth on edge.”
Christina was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, mon amie. I genuinely wanted you to experience someone a little different. Believe it or not, we have tried very hard to set you up with women who we thought would excite you or challenge you in different ways.”
“I know you have.” Justine let out a long sigh and leaned forwards on her free elbow, the phone clutched to her ear. “And I do appreciate what you are both doing. I do. It’s just…”
“What?” Christina’s voice was soft.
“I don’t know what I’m looking for. And I don’t know how to relax around these women. When I was only interested in a woman for one thing, I didn’t have to try so hard.”
Christina sniggered. “I’m sure you didn’t. Hey, it’s early days. Don’t beat yourself up. Let me have a think, and a talk with Sylvie, and we’ll try much harder with the next one. I promise.”
“Okay. But there’s no rush. I might need a little break after this one.”
“Sure. No problem. Still on for dinner next week?”
“Definitely. Sylvie’s lasagne is calling me.”
They hung up after a quick goodbye and Justine made her way over to the window seat. It was only ten o’clock; she’d cut short the date at just after nine. She sipped at the herbal tea she’d made once home—she needed something to calm her after the evening’s adventures.
As she drank she pondered what she hadn’t told Christina. She wondered if her friend had guessed, and therefore how long it would be before she called Justine out on it. That every woman she’d dated since the new year Justine automatically compared to Alex, and always, always came up wanting.
“A bit higher at your end, if you can,” Alex puffed, and was grateful when Beth obliged. The chest that doubled as a coffee table was bulky and heavy, and manoeuvring it down the two flights of stairs from the flat to the ground floor was awkward, to say the least. However, it was the worst part of the move, so the fact they were getting it out of the way first was a relief. “Nearly there,” she called in encouragement.
“Thank God,” Beth exclaimed. “I think my arms are about to drop off.”
Alex merely grunted and relief washed over her as she descended the final step. Two minutes later they’d shoved the chest into the back of the small van she’d hired for the day.
“I am so glad that’s over,” she said, bending over at the waist and breathing deeply, her breath fogging in the cold January air. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”
Beth snorted, also bent over double. “I knew I should have given up smoking for my New Year’s resolution.”
“You know my feelings on that one.” Alex stood and mock glared at her friend.
Beth held up her hands in a placating gesture. “I know, I know. You and Danielle both. Soon, I promise.”
They marched back up the stairs and each picked up a box of books. As they descended a second time, Alex stopped suddenly. Terri was on her way up the stairs, head down. Right behind her, a step lower, was a woman Alex didn’t recognise. She was slightly taller than Terri, with blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, her face coldly beautiful. Neither of them had noticed Alex just yet.
“Terri?” Alex hadn’t been sure her voice would work; her brain was struggling to compute all the things wrong with this moment.
Terri and the mystery woman lifted their heads sharply, and both stopped climbing the stairs.
Terri eyes were wide, her mouth open in shock.
The blonde, however, was smirking, and Alex had the distinct feeling the woman knew exactly who Alex was.
“What are you doing here?” Alex’s anger was sharp and instant, fuelled by the smug look on the blonde’s face, and the guilty expression that had painted itself all over Terri’s.
Carefully putting the box down at her feet, and vaguely aware of Beth doing the same beside her, Alex said, “You told me you would stay away while I did this. And who’s that?” She pointed at the woman, who still wore the oily smirk.
Rather than answering Alex, Terri turned to the woman behind her.
“You told me the text message said they’d be finished by eleven.” Terri’s voice was tight and her hands clenched at her sides.
“Did I? I could have sworn I said twelve.” The woman smiled at Terri but it held no warmth. “Darling, you were rather occupied with…something—” she raised her eyebrows “—when you asked me to read the message for you. Perhaps you misheard.” Without waiting for Terri’s response, she turned to Alex. “Hi,” she said, her smirk widening into a vicious grin. “I’m Liz.”
Terri tipped her head back and exhaled loudly. Liz’s grin did not diminish.
Alex’s heart thumped. This was Liz. She and Terri were standing here together in front of Alex. Which meant…what? Her mind reeled and she feared she was actually going to pass out. Were Terri and Liz together? Had they been together all this time?
“You fucking bitch,” Beth said quietly, stepping forwards. Terri flinched.
Alex, on autopilot, clasped Beth’s shoulder. “No, don’t,” she said, her voice sounding strange even to her own ears. She turned to look at Terri as her stomach churned. “What…what is this?”
Terri swallowed and made to speak, but no sound appeared.
“You?” Alex said. “And her?” She pointed at Liz, who still wore the smirk that Alex had an almost overwhelming urge to slap off her face.
“Alex, I’m sorry. I—” Terri croaked.
“No,” Alex said, and it came out loud and as packed with anger as she was feeling. “Sorry doesn’t cut it. Not if this is what I think it is. Just tell me one thing.” She glared at Terri, her entire body shaking. “All this time? Since the first time?”
Terri swallowed again. “On and off, yes,” she said quietly.
Alex thought she’d experienced worse pain in her life right until that moment. Then she knew she’d never felt pain at all. Not compared to what she felt now. She was numb with it, yet at the same time, scorching agony rolled through every cell in her body.
“Go,” she said, the word small but containing enough power to threaten the glass in the windows alongside them.
Terri hesitated.
“Go!” Alex screamed. “Get out! Get the fuck out of my sight!”
Terri stumbled backwards, crashing into Liz, who yelped. Beth slipped an arm around Alex’s waist, and Alex was thankful as she didn’t think her legs would hold her up for much longer. She watched, dazed, as Terri and Liz trotted down the stairs and out of the building.
She turned to Beth. “I… I can’t…” Her heart was pounding out a fearful rhythm and she tried to take a deep, calming breath.
Beth squeezed her. “Come and sit down for a moment.” She tugged and Alex followed, grateful she didn’t need to think. Beth led her back into the flat to the sofa in the living room and pressed her down into it.
“Back in a tick,” Beth said, and walked out of the room. When she returned—Alex had no idea how long she’d been gone—she pushed a small tumbler into Alex’s hands. Alex looked down and saw what was probably whisky in the glass. She lifted it to her lips and slugged it back all in one go. It burned, but in burning it brought her back to herself.
“I can’t believe it,” she choked out. She wondered why she wasn’t crying because she felt like screaming the building down. “I feel like everything she’s done since that first night she slept with Liz has been a total lie. Was she ever interested in saving our relationship? Why did she put me through all that?”