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Chapter 23

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The light of the new day cut through the gaps in her curtains in shafts. She squinted and rubbed her hand across her eyes, the crusty remains of last night’s sorrow coming off with it. As she sat up, her stomach growled loud and hollow and nausea rose to the back of her mouth. Head thumping, she got up and went over to the mini-bar to source a bottle of water. Downing it quickly, she felt marginally better. Until she remembered her embarrassing behavior the previous night.

Shame burned on her cheeks as she went into the bathroom and stared at the mess that was her leftover makeup. Grabbing a facecloth, she filled the sink and began to scrub away the caked-on debris. With each wipe, the pale clean skin shone through all the while her large dark-ringed eyes stared blankly back at her. What had she been thinking? Her regret was not only that she was stupid enough to fall for Harry’s lies, but the scene she had made with Jimmy was horrifying. He would never forgive her, and she knew without even seeing him he would never look at her the same again. She smeared the red from her lipstick across the cream facecloth as she scrubbed away the last mark.

The knock at the door startled her, and with her hand paused midway from her face, she called out. “Hello?”

“Room service.”

She didn’t remember ordering anything. Placing the cloth down, she surveyed the damage and sighed. There was little beauty left in her dress, with its large stains down the front and torn shoulder. She had no idea how that had even happened.

“One minute.”

Throwing it up and over her shoulders before discarding it on the floor, she grabbed the towel bathrobe from the back of the door and wrapped it tight. Marginally better, she surmised.

Opening the door just enough to peer around the corner, she was both relieved and disappointed to see a young freckled man holding a tray outside her door. A small part of her had hoped, for just a moment, that perhaps Jimmy had come to see her.

“Would you like me to bring it in, ma’am?” he asked politely. His skin was pallid and oily, with two large blue eyes staring out from behind a mop of orange hair. She decided he couldn’t have been more than sixteen.

“No thanks, I can take it.” She opened the door wider and reached for the tray. The boy noticed she was in a bathrobe and quickly dropped his gaze, red hues rushing to his cheeks. He thrust the tray forward and into her hands before scuttling down the hallway to the lift. As she watched him go, she saw a shape emerge from a neighboring room. With his shirt partially tucked in, and his hair tousled, she recognized Harry escaping from a room that was clearly not his own. Catching her eye, he paused, his hand frozen on the handle.

Feeling the same sinking feeling she had when she had learned the truth about him last night, she gulped and took a step back into her room.

“Wait, Ems!” he called out, rushing along the hallway to her door. He was just fast enough to fit one of his designer shoes into the door frame to stop her from slamming it in his face. His fingers crept around the corner.

“Ems, come on. We have to talk.”

Her hands now shaking, she released her grasp on the door handle, letting it swing open. The full form of his face made her gasp. He looked terrible. His hair, which was normally so carefully placed, stuck up at angles. Large dark patches were under his eyes, as the blue irises scanned her own.

“We have nothing left to say, Harry.”

“Actually.” He leaned against the door-frame as if unable to hold his own weight. “I think we do. Can I come in?”

She would have folded her arms over her chest, except that the food tray was in the way. She used it instead like a barrier between them.

“No, I think here is fine.”

She could smell the soft waft of bacon from under the lid of the plate, and her stomach growled in response. Harry didn’t notice.

“Look, I’m sorry, Ems.” He looked at her with what she could best describe as large rounded puppy eyes. “It’s not what you think.”

“What I think, Harry,” she said, her voice cold and distant, “is that you are a married man, and you stole my ideas.”

“Now wait on a minute.” A flash of irritation crossed his brow. “I didn’t steal anything. I already had an idea about points for marketing, well before you discussed your idea with me.”

Stepping back, she went to close the door on him again but his foot was still in the way.

“Okay, okay.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “Look, I’m sorry if you think that. But as for the marriage, I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can.” Looking at him again in the harsh morning light, it was even more clear to her than the night before that he wasn’t ruggedly handsome. In fact, he was soft and pudgy in his cheeks, now that she was paying attention. Those dimples he so carefully displayed for her were childish and immature.

“Cassie and I are separated. Have been for a while now, actually. Baby Jack was born through IVF because Cassie won’t even let me into her bedroom anymore, but she wanted to have a family. With or without me, apparently.” The words were hissed through his teeth and a deep frown formed on his brow.

Emily understood relationships could be complicated, and people often stayed together formally who shouldn’t. But she had also learned from watching her own parents that love could, and did, exist. It needed work and could be difficult, but the rewards could strip the costs. As she looked at Harry, she also realized that she didn’t love him. Fancy him? Perhaps, once upon a time. But now, when she looked at his face, she saw nothing but future disappointment. He wasn’t a man who worked hard at his relationships. He was a man who worked hard on himself, and anything or anyone who benefited him was worth marginal effort. But that was all. A pang of pity pulled at her, like a child tugging on her hand. Poor Cassie, stuck in a marriage with this marginal man. She must have spent an exorbitant amount of time trying to present a false world of perfection. For Harry was far from perfect.

“Well, that’s good news for the person down the hallway then,” she replied, her face set solid.

Pink flushed to his cheeks. “Oh no, it was just a guy from work. Slept on his couch because I didn’t want to wake up too early. My room faces the sun and these curtains are paper thin.”

She didn’t believe him, but in his attempts to convince her he added, “Scout’s honor.” He placed a hand upon his heart.

“Scouts don’t do that.” She sighed. Her arms were feeling the weight of the tray now. “Look, I have to go, my breakfast is getting cold. I’ll see you around, Harry.” She gave his foot a small kick with hers and then turned to bump the door closed with her hip.

She could hear him trying to talk to her through the closed door, but she ignored it. As she had told him at the start of the conversation, there was nothing left to say.

Taking a seat at the small table near the window, she plonked the food tray down, only then noticing a tiny note tucked in beside the coffee. Pulling it out, she opened it and read.

Morning Vixen,

Sorry things got out of hand. My fault entirely. Enjoy the breakfast and get some sleep. I will mark you absent from the courses today. No stress, enjoy the time off.

Jimmy

With a small smile on the corner of her lips, she pulled the lid of the plate and took a deep breath in of the lush, full English breakfast as the rich hot smell of salty bacon and scrambled eggs reached her nostrils. If nothing else, it seemed like all was not totally lost.