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Her breath rattles into her body unsteadily. Sex and pillow talk. What a ridiculous idea. She should have been honest from the start and told him she liked him, because now, even when she did tell him it was more than sex for her—fought through those stomping ants crawling all over her skin, in her lungs and down her throat to tell him—he didn’t believe her.
And why would he? She has been focusing mostly on sex this week. Initiating it in his shower, at the Opera House, letting her body drive her instead of making him rehearse his presentation last night.
A sob breaks through and she squeezes her arms tighter around herself.
She should message Cat and Tori. They’ll make her feel better. But her phone is in her room and she can’t find the energy to move. She may throw up if she does.
Thinking about Cat and Tori at least brings some clarity to her stuffy head. There may have been those sexual interactions, but there was other stuff between her and Cameron too. Their dinner date and their breakfast chats and their discussion last night. He even said himself he was opening up to her, getting emotional. Has he forgotten those moments or—
Another sob and the tears start sliding down her face. He can’t have forgotten something that happened less than 24 hours ago. It mustn’t have meant anything to him, except maybe regret. It doesn’t matter what he said in bed last night now, because he’s made his feelings clear. It was only about sex for him.
She keeps her arms wrapped around her torso and lets the tears drip off her chin.
***
The next morning is tough. After a restless night, she wants to stay in bed and avoid Cameron and her feelings, but she’s made commitments. To have coffee with James and to get that replacement bottle opener for Samantha.
She tries to focus on the positives from yesterday, remind herself how invigorating talking with James was, but it all comes back to Cameron. Being with him made her confident in voicing her wants. Without him providing inspiration with his own story, she wouldn’t have been so open with James, or told Samantha she was thinking of looking for a new job.
But she didn’t have the confidence when it really counted. To be honest with him sooner.
She slips quietly into the breakfast area after scanning the tables for Cameron and not seeing him. She avoids the muesli station and sits at a table facing away from the entrance, or else she’ll be looking for him every second. She doesn’t want to know how he’s coping. She doesn’t want to see his expression when he sees her. Dismissal, anger, friendliness without heat.
She plays with her food more than eating it, until a voice interrupts her brooding.
‘Jules?’
She moves her head slowly, looking up at the man beside her table.
‘Matteo. Hi.’ She sounds like she’s got feathers shoved down her throat.
‘Hey. Mind if I join you?’
She has no energy to feel either way on the request, so she gestures to the free seat.
Matteo drops into it. ‘So. Cameron told me you guys ended your fling.’
The words are unexpected. Her knife scrapes against the bottom of her plate. She waits to feel strange that Matteo knows about what she’s been doing with his friend, but she doesn’t feel much of anything except resignation.
‘You’ve seen him already?’ Maybe she does want to know how he’s dealing with the end of them.
‘Gym this morning.’
‘Oh.’ So Cameron felt normal enough, unaffected enough to get up as usual and head to the gym, while she snoozed her alarm five times and had to talk herself into a shower. Great. If she was hoping he was as distraught by their break-up as she was, it doesn’t seem like it.
‘So you know what happened?’ she asks.
‘I got an incredibly truncated version from Cameron and I’ve filled in the blanks with my own observations.’
‘Which are?’
‘That he made a mistake and he still wants you. Wants to date you.’
Jules laughs harshly, dropping the cutlery and giving up on eating. ‘Doubt it. He told me it was only about sex.’
Matteo swears and runs a palm over his shaved head. ‘He didn’t tell me that part. What a self-sabotaging bastard.’ He drops his hand onto the table. ‘Look. I know Cameron, so I’m certain that was a lie.’
‘He sounded pretty sure to me.’
