Page 117 of The Surrender
Chapter 24
I have no idea how many missed calls I’ve had from Nick. Or how many I’ve rejected. His messages are being deleted immediately. Same goes for Jude. I don’t want to see or speak to either of them.
I meet Clark for breakfast the next morning and tell him everything. I don’t relish it, but I need him to lay off the questioning and have my back when my parents inevitably grill me. I can’t let them see how affected I am. It won’t make sense to them, since I was only briefly involved with the force that is Jude Harrison. But they met him. And they loved him. Everything was so fucking perfect; I should have known the universe would fuck me over.
“Well, fuck,” Clark says, brushing his hands free of breadcrumbs. “So Nick gave him some shitty financial advice and—”
“His dad,” I correct him. “Nick gave Jude’s dad some shitty advice.”
“His dad,” Clark repeats. “So Jude has a gripe and he’s used you, the woman Nick loves, to get back at him? Seems a bit over the top, doesn’t it?”
I hum, annoyed with how much space this is taking up in my head. “Look, Jude wanted to hurt Nick and he succeeded. The end.”
“But he dragged you away from Nick when he found you in the pub. Why would he do that if he wanted Nick to be hurt? To be hurt he’d have to know Jude was seeing you.”
I stare at Clark, not liking where he’s going with this.
He leans closer. “Maybe because Jude really did fall for you and didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Are you actually defending him?”
“I’m just—”
“Well, don’t. I’m done.”
His hands come up, defensive.
And now, back to the breakup diet of work and wine. Except I’m on a different breakup. “Look, I have a meeting with Tilda Spector tomorrow that I need to prep for, and I want to get to the gym.” My work brain is switched back on. Distraction. I stand and drop a kiss on his cheek.
“Okay,” he murmurs, here but not here.
“Hey,” I say, smacking his shoulder. “Stop overthinking it. I’m over it, so you should be too.”
He laughs. “Sure. Over it. Fuck me, Amelia, you were spending every spare minute with him. That’s never happened in the history of my sister. Mum and Dad met him. Jesus, Dad even softened. You loved him.”
I flinch. “I didn’t know who he was, Clark,” I say quietly, smiling, using every ounce of my energy to do so. “He’s a liar. A womaniser. A fucking arsehole. I hate him.” I kiss his head and leave, slipping my earbuds in and shuffling my favourite tracks. Moby’s “Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?” comes on, and I move through the crowds on the pavement, listening.
Until I can’t listen anymore.
I yank out my earbuds, my chest tight, and pick up my pace.
It dislodges the tears, and they fall once again.
I reject yet another call from Jude as I walk across the lobby to the elevators. “Amelia,” Gary says, joining me as I hit the button. “Sorry I didn’t return your call yesterday. Everything okay?”
“Did you know Nick was interviewing?”
“Ah, yes, I meant to let you know about that.”
“Seriously, Gary? It just slipped your mind?” I feel at my forehead, exasperated. “You have to let the partners know he can’t work here.”
“Look, Amelia, I know he’s your ex—”
“He’s practically stalking me.”
Gary recoils. “Oh?”
“He helped himself to my phone while he was here yesterday and started tracking my movements.” That’s pretty much all I can say.
