Page 8 of Sunny Skies and Summer Kisses

‘Yeah, I can see that now… well, I kind of could before, but not all the time. I kept trying to ignore it, telling myself it was me who was wrong… and he wasn’t always that bad; he could be really charming sometimes.’ She sniffed, wiping away her tears.

‘Yeah, all part of his master plan, I reckon. And from what I can gather, you probably kept doubting yourself because that’s exactly what Damon wanted. It’s how people like him operate.’ Brogan picked up a chunk of her chocolate-dipped flapjack and popped it into her mouth, chewing slowly.

Anoushka nodded. ‘Hmm. You’re probably right.’ It always felt good to talk to Broge. Though her friend had only lived in the area for a few years, having moved to help her grandparents with the running of the small-holding, the two young women had struck-up a friendship quickly. Both had down-to-earth personalities and a love of the outdoors, in particular, the North Yorkshire Moors. Kristy, who knew Brogan from Skeltwick where they both hailed from, was from the same mould too, and the three young women had developed a tight friendship.

‘Being in a relationship with him was becoming bloody exhausting.’ Anoushka huffed out a weary sigh.

‘Sounds like it. And the jerk’s not worth shedding another tear over – or wrecking your mascara for. Here, you’re starting to look like a zombie with all that black smudged under your eyes.’ Brogan grinned, passing her a box of tissues.

‘Thanks.’ Anoushka laughed as she started wiping the smears away.

‘And you know what? The pompous arse was punching way above his weight, going out with you; Kristy thinks so too. I reckon it’s why he felt the need to keep putting you down.’ A hint of anger had crept into Brogan voice.

‘I’m not so sure about you’re right about him punching above—’

‘Stop right there!’ Brogan held her hand up. ‘I so am, and I’ll bet me and Kristy aren’t the only ones who think that; I’d put money on it. Listen, chick, I hate seeing what he’s done to you, chipping away at your self-confidence. You’ve got a fun, bubbly personality – or, at least you did have, until that weasel got his claws into you and began to snuff it out. You need to be your own person, not be ruled by some insecure, sociopathic bully. You’re gorgeous, and have hair to die for, which makes me wonder why the hell he wanted you to lop it off.’ She shook her head in disbelief. ‘You were so right to ditch that loser.’

‘Wow! So you’re on the fence then, Broge,’ Anoushka said, slightly stunned by the vehemence of her friend’s opinion. Though she’d been growing increasingly aware that Brogan wasn’t crazy about Damon – like so many other people she knew – it would seem her friend had been holding back on voicing her true thoughts. Until now.

‘I’m only saying it because you’re my best friend and I love you. That’s all.’

‘And I appreciate that,’ Anoushka said, meaning it.

‘There’s a name for it, you know. What he does.’ Brogan ceased chewing and frowned.

‘There is?’

‘Mm-hm.’ Brogan nodded. It’s on the tip of my tongue… um… gas… Gaslighting! That’s it! That’s what they call it when people behave like him, with all their mind games.’

There was that word again.Gaslighting.

‘You’re not the first person to have said that.’

Brogan snorted. ‘Is there any wonder? And I can’t believe you actually caught the slimeball scrolling through your phone.’

Anoushka licked her finger and pressed it onto a crumb of flapjack, popping it into her mouth. ‘Yeah, it was a bit of a shock; he must’ve watched me type my password in – he denied it though.’

‘What a weasel.’ Brogan looked across at Anoushka and they both laughed. ‘Bet he was livid when you switched to one with facial recognition.’

‘He was; his reaction was way out of proportion. Accused me of having something to hide.’ Anoushka tensed at the memory; he’d gone absolutely ballistic and she’d ended up a sobbing mess.

‘Seriously? Is he for real?’’

‘I know. I can see how bad it looks now.’ She was actually beginning to feel quite foolish for sticking with him for so long, never mind defending him to everyone.

‘I’m just glad you realised before it was too late.’ Brogan sounded suddenly serious, making Anoushka feel acutely aware of how close she’d come to being trapped in a relationship like the one Kitty had had with her ex-husband. The thought sent a shiver running through her.

‘Yeah, me too.’

‘Makes you wonder how someone becomes like that, I mean, I don’t suppose Damon was born that way. Surely something must’ve happened to have made him like that.’ Brogan looked thoughtful.

Brogan had a good point, thought Anoushka. ‘I reckon you’re right, and I’d say his dad probably had something to do with it.’

‘Really?’

Anoushka nodded and went on to share the only time she’d ever met Damon’s father.

It had been a Saturday afternoon and she and Damon had been returning to his apartment after having a leisurely lunch in the city. Damon was just pushing the key into the lock of the main door when a sharp voice behind them, demanding to know where they’d been, made them turn. Damon had been flustered to see his father standing there. The angry expression on his face was almost sinister. He’d turned up unannounced, expecting Damon to be home and was furious to find him out. He’d waited over two hours for him to return, and all that time his temper had been stewing away.

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