Page 5 of A Merry Irish Christmas
‘I wouldn’t be able to do anything until my lease was up anyway,’ she mused. ‘But maybe after our trip to Ireland?—’
She was interrupted by the door buzzer.
Greg frowned. ‘It must be one of the neighbours,’ he said, getting up. ‘Hold that thought.’
He padded out into the hall and Mary heard him open the door, followed by silence.
‘Ita!’ he gasped finally, sounding dazed, and Mary’s heart plummeted at his tone – the shock and disbelief in it, but also the wonder and awe. ‘What— What are you doing here?’ he stuttered.
‘Te amo, Greg!Te amo!’
Mary didn’t know much Spanish, but she knew enough for that to cause her heart to clench.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Juanita was saying breathily. ‘I should have never left. I had to come and tell you?—’
‘But how— what— how did you even get up here?’
‘I still have the key to the outside door.’
‘But your wedding…’
‘I called it off. I don’t want to marry Mateo. I just want to be with you.’
‘Ita, this isn’t fair. You can’t just turn up like this and expect me to?—’
Juanita cut him off and Mary listened, frozen, as she launched into an impassioned speech about how leaving him had been the worst mistake of her life and she’d realised Greg was the only one for her, the love of her life, how she’d called off her wedding at the last minute and got on the first flight to New York she could find because when she knew she wanted to be with him, she couldn’t waste another minute apart from him, and he had to forgive her and take her back because she couldn’t live without him, and blah, blah, blah…
When she finally ran out of steam, Mary held her breath, waiting for Greg to tell her she was too late – that he was over her and he’d moved on. But all he said was ‘Ita’ once again, and then he was mumbling something in a low voice. She couldn’t make out the words, but his tone was loud and clear – soft, loving, intimate…happy. There followed some muffled sounds that Mary just knew meant they were kissing.
To her horror, she caught Greg’s next words, even though he kept his voice low. ‘I can’t do this right now. You have to go. Mary’s here.’
‘Mary?’ Juanita’s tone was sharp.
‘The woman I’ve been seeing. I told you about her.’
The woman I’ve been seeing.The words cut like a knife to Mary’s gut. Notmy girlfriend.Notthe woman who’s stuck by me all year, the woman who put up with me when I was having a meltdown over you getting married.What happened to being his rock? What about everything they’d been through together in the past year? Only a few minutes ago he’d been talking about moving in together. How could all that be swept away so easily?
‘It’s not serious, is it? You want to be with her instead of me?’ Juanita demanded.
‘No, no. Of course not. Everything you just said… I feel the same,’ Greg murmured. ‘You know I do. But I can’t just— I have to break up with her properly first. She deserves that at least.’ He mumbled something Mary didn’t catch.
Then Juanita said, ‘Okay, I’ll come back tomorrow. And then we can start the rest of our lives together.’ She was almost shouting now and it was obvious she wanted Mary to hear.
That was it! Fired by fury and adrenaline, Mary surged to her feet and strode out into the hall, grabbing her coat from the stand on the way.
‘No need for that,’ she said stiffly, her voice trembling with rage and humiliation. ‘I can see myself out.’
Greg had the decency to look thoroughly ashamed of himself, his cheeks blushing a fiery red as he dropped his head, unable to meet her eyes, while Juanita looked her up and down with open curiosity.
‘Just to be clear,’ she said to Greg’s bent head, ‘I take it this means Christmas with your family is off.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled to his feet. Then he lifted his head and looked at her pleadingly. ‘I never meant for this to happen, Mary. I’m so sorry.’
But he wasn’t. He was overjoyed and she could hear the happiness bubbling up through his voice. He looked agonised, but also relieved that she was going, and a little part of her was annoyed with herself for making this so easy for him. But she couldn’t hang around another minute.
‘Right. Well, I’ll be off then.’ She shoved past Juanita, who had the nerve to give an indignant yelp, as if Mary was the one being rude here.
She held her head high as she stalked to the elevators, grateful that her fury kept the tears at bay until the elevator doors closed behind her and she was safely out of their sight. But as she pressed the button for the ground floor with a shaking finger, the floodgates opened. She let the tears flow, bawling all the way tothe lobby, out past a startled couple in the doorway, on the walk to the subway station and the entire journey home to the haven of her little fourth-floor walk-up in Gramercy.
