“You okay?” Seb asks. We’re in bed, our legs entangled. But despite our physical closeness, we feel more distant than ever.
“I’m fine,” I lie. “Just didn’t sleep very well.”
I nestle closer to him, as if the act of our skins touching will erase what happened. And for the millionth time since yesterday, the memories come back.
Cheater, cheater, cheater.
My stomach contracts. Thinking back, it’s impossible not to have seen the signs. There’s been a steady tension building, a frisson of sexual energy, between Greg and me. As soon as I saw you in his eyes, I should have run for the hills.
“Do you need to work today?” I say, hoping for the answer I need to hear.
Seb smiles. “Well, it’s a Tuesday, so yes.”
“Could you take off?”
The words sound needy, but I can’t stop them from coming. “We could go on a trip. Just you and me. Drive around the area.”
Seb sighs, arching his back and sitting upright in bed. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve barely shown you anything since we got here.”
He turns to face me. “How about I take you to the vineyard this weekend? I need to be there at some point, and we can make a trip out of it.”
In my mind, I’m going over the logistics, wondering if Ana will be okay with taking care of Alma while we’re gone. She arrived back from Barcelona last night, exhausted but relieved that her child was no longer sick. But I don’t want to bring any of that up right now. All I want is to focus on the future. Seb and I together at his family vineyard.
I sit up straight. “Sounds perfect.”
He smiles and wraps an arm around me. I bury my head in his neck, knowing that in a few seconds he’ll get up and leave. So I savour the moment for as long as it lasts.
Here, in this bed, I tell myself, we’re safe.
The misty haze of the shower swirls around me like a blanket. It’s funny, but in the steam, I breathe easier.
But something’s nagging at me. Gnawing at my stomach. My hand is careful with the shower gel, barely touching the wound on my thigh. The pain is deserved, I tell myself. But I hate how it reminds me of what happened yesterday. What I failed to put a stop to, before it was too late.
As I wipe the mist from the mirror, the feeling in the pit of my stomach grows. It’s almost like a premonition. I know something is about to happen. Something that will change everything. And my body is busy warning me of the threat.
I get dressed in the bathroom, trying to forget about the sinking feeling. But when I open the bathroom door, I know what’s waiting.
Seb is on the bed, and when he meets my gaze, he’s wearing a look I haven’t seen before.
I hold my breath. He knows. Call it collective unconscious, but if there’s something to hide, you can trust life to shed light on it. I stand there, unable to say anything. For as long as we’re quiet, it isn’t real yet.
But Seb breaks the silence.
“Is there something you want to tell me?”
I blink, say nothing. Then, hating myself for it, I say: “What do you mean?’
I can sense the disappointment before it shows on his face. “Do you know where your phone is?”
“My phone?”
“Yes.”
I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks, my heartbeat loud in my ears. “Uh, in my bag, I think.”
But I know it’s not. I can see my phone there, next to the bed, plugged into charge. But I don’t remember plugging it in. I’d been in such a rush yesterday to get home and bring the blade to my thigh that I’d dropped my bag on the floor, the phone either still inside or slipping out.
Seb must know what I’m thinking, because he says, “I found it on the floor. It was basically dead, so I put it on charge for you.”
Dread spreads through my body, the warmth shooting down my limbs. The seconds pass in slow motion until Seb utters the question. “Who’s Greg?”
I visibly flinch. “He’s—he’s a classmate.”
Seb nods, his gaze on the floor. It’s like he can’t look at me. “You should check your messages. He really wants to talk to you.”
“Seb—”
“Fucking unbelievable,” he says with a snarl. His eyes lock on mine and they’re wide and fierce. Angry, like I haven’t seen him before. “All this time, I knew there was something going on. You come home drunk every time from that class.” His eyes are narrow. “If there even is a class.”
“Of course there’s a class!” I counter, my voice shrill.
“Obviously, from all the Spanish you can clearly speak.”
The words are sharp. He’s never spoken to me like this before. I try to speak, but I realise I’m in the dark here. Seb must have seen some sort of message from Greg that I haven’t. My stomach drops again. Oh God, what did Greg say?
“Nothing happened between us, I promise. I—”
“Please, stop,” Seb says, holding out a hand. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Please,” I say. “You’re right. You’re completely right. I have been drinking too much. But I promise you I didn’t do anything, and that kiss was an accident, it was—”
I immediately realise my mistake. Seb’s face crumples. “Kiss?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“He was drunk,” I say, fumbling for words. “He just leaned in, I—”
Seb holds out his hand again, eyes cast to the floor. “I need some air.”
“Let me come with—”
“No.”
His words stilt me, loud and angry. Without looking at me, he’s out of the door. I stand still for a minute, as if waiting for Seb to change his mind and come back, but he doesn’t, so I dart for my phone. It feels like forever for the device to recognise my face, my hands shaking as I hold it. Suddenly—just like the guilty would—I regret granting Seb access to my phone. Setting facial recognition up for him. Without it, he might not have seen anything.
The phone unlocks and there, open for the world to see, is the thread of texts from Greg.
I’m so sorry. We drank way too much.
I feel like a twat.
I couldn’t help myself.
I sit on the ground, bringing my knees to my chest. I scroll further up the chat. Flinching, I cringe at the messages dripping with flirtatious energy. Not one mention of my fiancé.
The two Spanish musketeers! More like the two drunkards.
Is it weird that our bar crawl is the highlight of my day?
I throw the phone across the room. Closing my eyes, I picture what Seb must have thought as he went through the texts. Reading that last message, then scrolling up through the thread, curiosity taking hold. I would have done the same.
And now he’s seen it. All of it.
A sob forms in my throat as the next thought hits me.
What happens now?