Page 143 of Only Ever You

Ellie set about creating a plan whilst Faye curled herself on her sofa, surrounded by the mess of her life – packing boxes she’d begun to decant that life into. El even borrowed sketchbooks and pencils.

It was amazing and fantastical what her three helpers came up with, but it wasn’ther.

Faye didn’t want to renege on the reasons she’d said for denying Bash’s proposal – she still stood by those things. Yet hypothetical failure held a fifty-fifty chance in every adventure, including this one. So why should she let that stop her?

43

BASH

New Year’s Eve.

Most people, Bash imagined, already celebrated, or had at least begun preparations to welcome the turn of midnight tonight. Eleven hours were still left before he should be doing the same.

People usually felt some kind of joy or excitement at new adventures being so close, surrounding themselves with families and friends. Others, understandably, were more relieved for a fresh year to put the last one behind them. Apart from within his home office, Bash didn’t know where he stood.

Since the evening before, he’d felt too numb. His friends were supposed to gather in his living room tonight, hopefully with Faye amongst them, and yet he couldn’t bring himself away from his desk to smarten up the place like he usually would. The food he’d bought in specially all sat unprepared in his fridge, meanwhile he stared at a long list of specifications for a London penthouse without really reading any of it at all.

Because Bash couldn’t rip his mind off of Faye.

Faye. Faye. Faye.

It hurt too much to replay their words from last night, mainly because the way he’d reacted so obtusely to make her call him ‘hot-headed’ had made Bash take a long hard look at himself in the mirror.

He couldn’t even blame his responses to her on tiredness, hunger, or general exhaustion. He’d tossed and turned in his sleep all night thinking of what had gone wrong until he finally ran out of energy at three a.m and passed out in his bed.Alone. Waking up to find his arms outstretched on Faye’s side where the bed lay empty.

He wasn’t going intoPD&F Luxe’s shared office today, so by the time he’d woken up late and jilted his entire morning, it was too late to call Faye. Her phone would be in her office, and unless she was too, then she wouldn’t get his message.

Apologising for being a jerk and bypassing her wishes – even if Fayedidhelp him see sense before they parted last night – wasn’t the kind of thing he’d prefer to do over the phone anyway. He could’ve gone to her bakery in person to see her, knowing and hoping that he’d see her tonight, but on New Year’s Eve with high street sales drawing shoppers out everywhere,Bakedwould definitely be too busy for him to feel happy interrupting.

An excuse for avoiding this giant elephant between them? Definitely.

The words and numbers in front of Bash’s face blurred into one long sheet of incoherence, line after line, like they were scribbled out in intelligible cursive. Not even the bullet points with his notes around them made sense anymore.

He’d designed his bright attic office to breed creativity. No walls were bare; tall frameworks of shelvings surrounded him and held architectural and design magazines, photo albums of places he’d travelled across the world to see, ornaments and portfolios for when he needed inspiration. The windows in the ceiling always gave him light to work with the rise and fall of the sun. One desk kept his computer and pads of notes. Another, the largest gridded sketchbook littered with pencils, rulers, and drawing equipment that you might ever see.

The centre of the room was free space to think and wander. When Bash was younger, he’d underestimated the power of simplymovingto help stir his imagination. Tracks probably marked the hardwood by now beneath the rug he ended up replacing every other year from how he never picked up his feet.

He wore into those grooves as he shook his body out and stretched his ribs to get his thoughts flowing nearer to the track that theyshouldbe on, instead of his love and what she was doing right then.

Tomorrow,PD&F Luxe Co.would send an emailed letter of thanks but graceful rejection to the head ofWoordrow and Sturridgein New York, USA. The same letter which sat typed behind him on the computer’s shared drive ready for Bennet’s additions and amendments.

Bash knew he’d have to make it up to Bennet somehow for being the cause of his disappointment; turning down the offer had been heavily based uponhisreasons for not wanting to move across the Atlantic. Though he didn’t knowhowjust yet. An all-expenses-paid vacation wouldn’t be enough for a man who was always alone, and nor was it the right gift for Bennet.

His work partner had wanted the new adventure, new clients, and new business plans. Not a two week holiday to sunny Italy all by himself.

Coupled with how he’d pushed Faye yesterday when she very clearly wasn’t ready for marriage, Bash felt like a selfish prick.

Correction: he knew that he was. A big one. One that deserved to not have heard from her since she’d texted to say she’d arrived home safely approximately – he cast a glance at his watch – seventeen hours ago.

That really was disheartening.

Bash agreed to slow down their pace, but reducing themselves to ‘casual’ was like a slap in the face when his intentions with Faye wereanythingbut that.

Perhaps he was wrong in his connotations, but ‘casual’ made him think of a relationship that had ‘no strings’, no promises, no long term future plan. Only passing flirtations and shallow attractions. Even after only a week, it couldn’t be any more obvious that those things weren’tthemat all.

He’d wanted to reach out all night and call Faye, but he’d sensed she wasn’t alone. Maisie and Sienna’s absence in their group text when Freddy double checked plans for tonight had been painfully obvious, which usually meant that the three women were together if Faye was silent too.

So Bash had texted her instead, to little effect.

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