Page 64 of Only ever you-Ana & Byron
Byron Robertson spotted at the Crown & Barrow last night with mystery woman.
***
The photo wasn't grainy.
It wasn't ambiguous.
Byron's back was unmistakable, leaning against the bar, pint in hand, his face hidden. The woman beside him had a hand on his shoulder, her cropped dark hair catching the light. They looked comfortable, like they knew each other well.
Ana stared at the screen, her pulse pounding in her ears. A text popped up.
Byron:Where are you? Need 2 talk
She tossed the phone onto the bed and paced.
They'd just broken up hours ago. Was that all it had taken? Had he texted her before or after booking a pint and a warm body? Could she blame him? She was the big fat liar.
She wasn't sure which part cut deeper-the betrayal or the fact that she could still feel his hands on her hips. Still hear him in her ear. Her fingers were tingling and her neck ached.
You don't trust me yet... but you will.
She needed air.
Cadi looked like hell.
Pale and exhausted. Her hoodie was too big for her, sleeves over her hands. Cadi grinned as Ana pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, smelling faintly of hospital antiseptic, strong coffee, and trouble. She looked like she had gone a couple of rounds in a bear fight, and the bear had obviously won.
"You look alive," Cadi noted, cynically assessing her.
"Barely," Ana sniffed. "I spent almost two months in the fucking hospital, which was like getting trapped in an episode of Casualty written by sadists... They airlifted me to the nearest tertiary centre. A helicopter, Cadi. Like I'm some kind of VIP patient."
"You were a VIP patient."
"Damn right, I was. You should've seen me, strapped to a gurney, demanding someone let me tweet before I lost consciousness."
"And what exactly happened to you again?"
"Ah, just a tiny incident involving a rebel stronghold, a poorly placed landmine, and my general lack of self-preservation."
"Ana."
"Fine. I got caught in the crossfire during an op... Not even a cool bullet wound. Just a dumb, painful, can't-walk-for-six-weeks wound where the bullet grazed me."
"And you already know all about my unexciting marriage crisis."
"Oh yeah. The fucking saga."
"Ana."
"Hear me out. First, we drop Callum into a shark-infested lagoon for being a useless twat. Then we pop by Gray's, give him a little friendly encouragement, you know, a gentle reminder that if he ever pulls this shit again, he'll end up in the same lagoon."
"Right. Because threats of murder always mend marriages."
"It's worked before."
Cadi was thoughtful before she looked down at her hands. She got up and reached for her coat.
"But the trust is hard to rebuild, Ana. I don't know how to fix that. And I love him. God, I love him so much."
