Page 52 of The Lucky Escape

He shook his head. ‘You’re incapable of taking a compliment, which is why you’re changing the subject.’

Hmmmmm.I stared out of the window, folding my arms across my chest.

‘What I’m saying is that he was a douchebag, and you are glorious, and if you could just put yourself at the centre of your own world for one second you’d see how much you deserve to be there.’

‘Okay,’ I countered, the roads up ahead becoming familiar. We were close to the hotel, now. ‘Alexanderwasawful to me. But what does it say that I loved him anyway?’

‘That you search for the best in people. I don’t know. I just really need you to …’ He stopped talking, cutting himself off.

‘Go on.’

‘I don’t know!’

We pulled up outside the hotel, and I was already unclipping my seatbelt before we’d even parked. Patrick reached out to my knee and gripped it firmly so I couldn’t get out before we’d resolved the fight.

‘Just say it Patrick,’ I told him. ‘You’re pissed about something, so just say it.’

He sighed and then blurted out: ‘Alexander! I’m pissedabout Alexander! I wish you’d stop focusing on him for just one afternoon. One hour!’

‘Fine,’ I said, noting where his hand was, forcing him to wrench it back. ‘I get it. You’re bored of me talking about Alexander. Objection noted.’

I was hurt by how mad he was at me, and embarrassed that I’d somehow done something wrong. But, it takes two to tango, doesn’t it. Patrick could take some responsibility too.

‘Sorry I’m not over it fast enough for you,’ I told him, letting myself be mad for maybe the first time ever. I deserved to be! I was allowed to be! ‘But I’m doing my best and in my defence, I was very clear this was a honeymoon for a marriage that never happenedbecause I was jilted.So if you hadn’t connected the dots that maybe – just maybe! – I’d need to talk about my feelings occasionally then that’s on you, NOT ME.’

I clambered out of the car and slammed the door shut behind me. I was so humiliated, but empowered by saying how I felt, too. It was freeing! I must have been the most mind-numbing holiday companion in the world, talking about my ex and boring Patrick rigid, but I was right, too – he was on a free holiday, and if me being a bit repetitive sometimes was the price he had to pay, then he couldn’t hold that against me.

I went up in the lift alone, and then straight to my bedroom, fuming that Patrick was even the tiniest bit right about Alexander. Alexanderhadchipped at pieces of me. I’d let him. His email basically admitted to me that he’d known he’d been doing it, too. And if I was really, truly honest with myself, I’d stayed because I was scared and wasn’t sure how to ask for more. I hadn’t even been sure I deserved more.Mum always taught us that nice girls don’t beg, nice girls don’t nag. But nice girls could still get angry, couldn’t they? I wasn’t a bad person for having wants or needs or feelings.

I flopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. I heard Patrick come inside, run the kitchenette tap, and then go into his room.

Alexander, I could live without.

Alexander hadn’t been the beginning of the end for me – he’d been the end of the beginning. I was ready for the middle bit of my life now. I was only just getting started. Calming down, I could see how I deserved for it to be better than I’d been accepting, out here in Aus with all the perspective that brought. And I could see how meeting Patrick was a change of pace, of direction. Since hanging out with him it had altered the cadence of my days. Yeah I could survive without Alexander – happily! – but I couldn’t live without Patrick now he was in my life. I didn’t want to. I’d seen what being with somebody kind and thoughtful was like. He was fun, and yeah, also bruised, but still trying. I’d tasted non-judgement, and curiosity, and just generalnice-guy-ness.I knew what steak was, now, and that didn’t make me miss the cheap hamburger of Alexander at all. I didn’t want to fight with him.

Oh my God,I realized, sitting bolt upright.

Oh crap.

I think I like Patrick!

24

Sleep was impossible. I searched around for my AirPods and texted Adzo to see if she was free. This was an emergency. I couldn’t fancy Patrick. Absolutely not. I couldn’t even let myself explore the idea that I fancied Patrick because then I wouldn’t know what to do with that and we still had eight days in Sydney to get through together. That would be alongtime if I was trying to keep a secret from him.

I didn’t get a reply from Adzo, which meant I wouldn’t get one for probably the next month. She was like that: either immediate, or fourteen working days to care. I needed to talk this through though. I thought about the only other person I knew in The Single Girls Support Club – Kezza had been the most supportive out of the Core Four, but still sided with the majority that coming away with Patrick wasn’t the smartest move I’d ever made. I needed her though. She picked up on the second ring. It must have been about lunchtime at home.

‘Hey, babe!’ she said. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Listen,’ I replied, my voice lowered as much as I possibly could. ‘Can you talk?’

She lowered her voice to match mine. ‘Why are we whispering?’

‘Hold on.’ I grabbed a pair of shorts from my laundry pile and then pulled on a cardigan. Still barefoot I slipped out into the lift of the suite and pressed the button for the lobby. I couldn’t risk being overheard. ‘I need a Single Girls Support Club meeting.’

‘Top secret,’ she said, gravely. ‘I swear. What’s going on? Shoot.’

I sighed melodramatically as I found a corner chair in the lobby to settle into. ‘It’s about Patrick.’

---