Page 95 of Replay
Monday:I go to work early after sleeping like shit and stomping around in the middle of the night to hide anything relating to Tilly. I even throw away my bloody basil plant because I can’t even stand to look at it anymore. All it does is remind me of her, and it can fuck right off.
Tuesday:Finally fall asleep only to wake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat after a horrid nightmare. The fact that I’m clutching Tilly’s pillow and being painfully reminded of her sweet honey scent makes it impossible to go back to sleep. These sheets can fuck right off, too.
Wednesday:Continue ignoring calls from my mother. I know what she’s going to say. Go find Tilly and apologise. Be open with her. Tell her your truth. The problem is, she doesn’t need the truth. If she wouldn’t stay with me without knowing this, then how can I ever expect her to stay with me after? Fuck off with that thought as well.
Thursday:I consider calling Tilly because I miss the sound of her voice but stop myself because she deserves better than me. The entire world deserves better than me. I drink my weight in whiskey.
Monday:Baby shower prep. Happy thoughts only. Zero thoughts of Santino. Okay, one thought of Santino…and it’s not a nice one. Cry myself to sleep.
Tuesday:I clean Freya and Mac’s entire house and when I find a T-shirt of Santino’s, I consider throwing it into the fireplace. Dodge Freya’s questions about where Santino is by saying he’s swamped at work. They have enough on their minds. They don’t need to hear about my relationship drama. Spend the evening consoling a pint of ice cream and rewatching episodes ofBridgertonall while tryingnotto think about how much Santino is like the duke.
Wednesday:Baby shower invites all sent. Will hope and pray that no one will ask why Santino isn’t at the party. Stop into Harrods to fill out employment paperwork. Hope by Monday morning, I’m back to my old self and ready to crush it at my new job. No thoughts of Santino. Okay, two thoughts…and they aren’t nice.
Thursday:I miss him. Sleeping is impossible. I regret chucking that T-shirt of his in the bin. I consider drinking but know I won’t give in to the pain like that. I want to call…desperately. But I can’t. This is his mistake, and he has to be the one to fix this. Attempt to eat my weight in pasta instead.
Friday:Still no call from Santino. If he loved me, he would have rung me by now. Every single part of my body aches over that sad reality. Maybe it truly is over. Maybe it never should have started. Maybe I’m destined to be alone forever.I love him.
“You’re not some knight in shining armour. You’re just a whore meister with a guilty conscience.”
Tilly’s words from five years ago after I offered to be with her and her baby haunt me for the entire week. I hear them in the morning when I wake up. I think of them at night before I go to sleep. Even in my dreams, Tilly is there…screaming them at me over and over and calling me a monster. I even had a nightmare where every single woman I dated over the past few years showed up at my flat with Tilly and made sauce, and no matter how I told them to make it, they all ignored me, dumping in ridiculous ingredients like battery acid and cleaning products. My mind is a scary place.
Which is why I’m glad it’s Friday. It’s the end of quite possibly the longest week of my life. I’m tired, I’m grumpy, and I just want to go home. Even though I consider burning it to the ground at least every five minutes or so because every square inch of my flat smells like Tilly.
Christ, I’m a mess. I can’t even sleep without her. When the fuck did that happen? I have been living on my own since I was twenty years old and one bad breakup has me tossing and turning? This isn’t right.
It’s best if I focus on more productive things, like work. Sadly, that’s also a bit of a disaster because Zander Williams’ mother has been dodging all of our scheduled calls, and I still don’t know what I’m going to do about that whole situation.
I spoke to upper management about the status of Zander’s contract, and they expect him to sign any day now. I tried to bring up some bullshit excuses for why I needed to look over the contract again, but they shook me off. They said he even approved the flat they selected for him in one of Hayden Clarke’s properties. And unfortunately, I couldn’t tell them that Hayden’s wife, Vi Harris, is quite possibly Zander’s half-sister so that might be awkward if they run into each other.Christ, my whole life is fucked.
I’m just getting ready to shut down my computer to drown my sorrows when Vaughn knocks on my office door. “Santino! I’m so glad I finally caught you. Where have you been the past few weeks?”
“Oh, I’ve been around,” I rush out nervously like a guilty arsehole because I’m still avoiding him. “Well, not always in here. I was working in the conference rooms downstairs a bit.”
“Conference rooms?” Vaughn frowns and crosses his arms over his chest. “Did you have a lot of meetings?”
“I did.” I lie through my teeth because the truth is not an option. “How are you? How’s the team doing?”
“Oh, they’re doing okay, I suppose.” Vaughn walks into my office and drops down onto one of the open seats in front of my desk. I’m nervous to be around him for fear of spilling the beans, but I have to say, seeing him again feels good. It’s been hard staying away, and I respect the man too much to continue this farce for much longer.
He runs a hand through his grey hair and says, “The team’s been a bit shaky early on. Losing to Arsenal was a big gut-check moment since that club’s been struggling as well. I told the guys in the changing room that we need to look at this as a rebuilding year with all the players we’ve lost this season. I’m not coaching the team we are today. I’m coaching the team I know we can be someday. And if we keep working hard, we can hopefully keep our spot in the Premier League to show these arseholes that we belong here.”
I nod and expel a soft laugh. “You are nowhere near retiring, are you?”
“Next season,” he repeats the same line he’s been telling all of us for years. “Tanner still needs me.”
My brows lift. “Do you think Tanner will be your successor?”
“Christ, I don’t know.” He laughs at that. “He’s actually a good coach when he’s not fucking off. But you know none of that’s up to me. It’s up to the owners.”
“Right.” I click my pen thoughtfully, trying to picture Bethnal Green without Vaughn Harris. It’s not a pleasant thought.
“Tell me about your life, Santino.” He leans forward and slaps my desk. “I heard a little rumour about you.” Vaughn taps his nose, and my eyes widen. “I heard that you’re seeing Mac Logan’s sister.” His blue eyes crinkle with mischief, and I sag with relief that he’s not referring to Zander Williams, but then the thought of Tilly turns my stomach to knots.
I rub the back of my neck. “Well…I was seeing her.”
“Was?” Vaughn echoes. “Tanner just told me the news last week. What could have possibly happened in a week?”
“I wish I knew exactly.” I run an exhausted hand through my hair, hating how even thinking about her hurts my insides.
