Page 39 of I Was Always Yours

“I love our time together. You make me laugh, and we have so much fun together. I actually look forward to seeing you, which is unusual for me, and I think it is for you too. But as much as I love hanging out with you, I do think the lines have become a little blurred.

“Your words may say we’re just friends and will never be more, but your actions say something completely different. You get jealous, and you don’t want me hanging out with other men. You spend every free weekend you have at my house, and we hang out like we’re a couple. It feels like we’re in a relationship, just without the label.

“For a while I told myself it didn’t matter. That I’m happy the way things are. That I don’t need a label. But I was wrong. It’s so fucking confusing, Lee. I think you really like me too, but I need to hear that. I need to know how you feel. It’s fucking with my head, and I can’t take it anymore. I know I risk losing you with this message, and that’s the last thing I want. But I had to tell you how I feel. I guess you could say, the ball is in your court now.”

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

EMMALEIGH

That first movement when you first wake up with a hangover has to be one of the hardest. All I need to do is roll over from one side onto the other, so I’m facing my bed side table and I can get the water and headache pills I left there the night before. But the actual movement feels so much harder than it should be. My body feels like it has lead weights attached to it, and just the slightest movement causes the drums in my head to start pounding. Not to mention all the liquid in my stomach that starts swishing around, threatening to make a reappearance.

By some miracle, I managed to roll over and successfully take the pills. I just hope I can keep them down long enough to take effect. Even though the curtains in my bedroom are dark and block out most of the light, the rare strands that are shining through are making my eyes burn. I squeeze them closed, trying to block out the dizzy sensation.

I lay there for a few minutes, my eyes clamped shut as I try to remember as much of the night as possible.

There was dancing, a lot of dancing. I remember Kyle and Ginger, who I think had a night they will never forget as they both went home with Bessy. I remember telling her that she was making more bad decisions, particularly since she’s fucking one of the doctors who works on our ward. Apparently he’s just a fuck buddy she calls when she wants to try the really kinky shit. My ears are practically bleeding as I think about all the things she told us he’s into. I have to see this guy at work again tomorrow. How the hell am I going to be able to look at him again knowing he comes hardest with a finger up his ass?

I don’t know how taking home two barely legal teenage boys will help her situation, but apparently she was in a teaching mood last night. I wasn’t in the mood to stop her.

I remember Gem bailing early when she called Henry to come pick her up. I remember him being a bit pissed as he’d had to come away from doing his work project with a work colleague. He told her he’d pay for an Uber for her, since she refuses to get in a regular old black cab, but she refused that too, insisting only him picking her up would be acceptable.

Even now, when she’s nowhere to be seen or heard, just the mere thought of Gemima was giving me a massive fucking headache. But, after a few drinks, just for a few moments I did get to see the real side of Gem, the insecure side. It was just the two of us, waiting to get in the toilet, but we were queuing in the hallway, making the most out of the peace. The music inside was your typical loud, pounding dance music, and whilst I was in there, the music was intoxicating. I could feel it rippling just beneath the surface, making my heart accelerate as the need to dance along with the beat started to get overwhelming. But I knew I needed the toilet before I started dancing, and as soon as I mentioned it, Gem was the first to jump to tag along. Bessy stayed with the teenagers, and Kym stayed on the dancefloor. We left Ginger with strict instructions to not let Kym out of his sight, or we would cut his bollocks off. If the look of sheer terror on his face was anything to go by, he would definitely do a great job.

Once we were in the hallway and away from the music, it’s like she shrunk into this smaller version of herself, all the bravado and bullshit stripped away.

“I think Henry is cheating on me.” Her words were barely above a whisper, but the glazing of her eyes spoke volumes. She just voiced the thing we had all been thinking, but none of us ever had any proof. So, why say something if we aren’t sure?

“What makes you think that?” I reply, hoping she has more than the hunch we all have. If she’s thinking of blowing up her long-term relationship, it needs to be on more than a fucking whim.

“He’s been spending a lot of time with this work colleague, Steph. And the other day, I found her earring beside my bed. She obviously left it there for me to find. I mean, she’d spent almost an hour at dinner the week before showing them off to me. There was no doubt they were hers, but why the hell was it in my bedroom? I mean, if she came over to do work, I’d expect to find it in the living room, or bathroom, but she would have no reason to be on my side of the bed, unless she was climbing out of it. And that thought alone makes me want to vomit,” she cries, a few stray tears rolling down her perfectly made-up face.

“Shit, Gem. That’s tough. I think there’s only one thing you really can do and that’s to ask him. Have an adult conversation with him about it. I’d like to think after all the years you’ve been together, Henry won’t lie to you if you ask him directly.”

She looks up at me with a small smile as she wipes away the rogue tears like they were never there. “You really like this Lee guy don’t you?” she asks, and all I can do is nod. “I know there’s a risk you might get hurt, but if there’s a chance you could find happiness, then I say go for it.”

My eyes widen and my brow rises. “That’s literally the opposite of what you said earlier. You said he was using me and I needed to face reality and date someone who actually wants to date me.”

She lets out a huff and gazes up at me with her big brown eyes. “What the hell do I know? My long-term relationship could be a fucking sham. Lee isn’t hurting you. I mean, yes, you do deserve someone who will call you their girlfriend, but you never know, he may get there. I guess you just have to see.”

Holy fuck! As I think back over my conversation with Gem, it dawns on me the other stupid shit I did last night. More specifically, the voicemail I left Lee.

Moving far quicker than my sensitive stomach can handle, I roll over and grab hold of my phone, ripping it away from the charger. I scroll straight to Lee’s name on Whatsapp, which is where we do most of our talking, and there’s nothing since the last messages we exchanged. I look at the top of the screen, and see he was last online around thirty minutes ago. Which means he will have listened to my message, and he’s been online long enough ago that he could have done his reply by now, but he hasn’t. Well… I’ve royally fucked this up.

I quickly scroll through my messages app, and the call log on my phone, just to make sure he’s not tried to contact me some other way. He hasn’t. I wish there were some way for me to take back the damn message, or at least hear it again, so I at least know what I said. I can only remember little bits of it, and the small bits I remember are fucking bad enough.

Okay, so I need to do some damage control. I quickly scroll back through to Whatsapp and type out a message. Naturally, I erase and rewrite it at least twenty times before finally settling on a version I’m semi-happy with. I don’t think I will ever be completely happy, but that’s the situation—my big fucking mouth ruining everything.

EM

Morning. My hangover is on an epic scale, but I’m hoping the pills will kick in soon. Would you still like to come over tonight for Fajita Friday on a Saturday?

I decided to keep it super simple, and make no reference to the message of doom. Which is basically code for the fact I’m holding out hope—and yes, we’re talking about one in a trillion odds—that maybe Lee hasn’t listened to his voicemail. Some would call me fucking delusional, and they would be right, but it’s all I have right now.

LEE

Glad you had a nice night. Can’t today, sorry.

Oh shit. I’ve really fucked things up. Just yesterday he was pestering me, telling me he wanted to come over, but now all of a sudden he’s busy? Yeah, he definitely heard my message.

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