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My best friend kisses me on the cheek.
“She misses you too,” she says. “You should come around and see her sometime. She’d love to dance with you.”
“I don’t want her seeing me so miserable like this,” I reply.
Diana wraps me in one of her famous tight hugs.
“Things will get better,” she whispers into my ear. She truly knows how bad things have gotten for me as she’s had to witness it first-hand. She has been an angel this last week - an emotional support through the hardest week of my life. “Trust me. They will.”
“Thank you,” I whisper back. “I really hope things will get better.”
“They will, Emma.”
I really can’t spend any longer with her or I’ll start crying, I know. And I’ve done way too much of that in the last week to keep doing it here at the hospital.
I pack up my things and go. I’m just going to lie in bed and fall asleep. I’m in no mood to do anything else, even eat.
I just want to curl up under the bedcovers and shield out the world.
I want to hide away forever.
I’m walking out of the main doors of the hospital in my crappy old cleaning uniform when I accidentally head straight into a woman. We collide dramatically, both of us spiraling back from each other.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter instantly, looking up at the poor woman who I’ve just bumped into.
And I lock eyes with none other than Octavia Beaumont – the woman I’ve seen online with August.
53
EMMA
I’m not given a second to reorient myself after the accidental collision before Octavia Beaumont is literally, intensely screaming into my face.
“Get off me!”
But I am off her. I’m not even touching her...
I take another step back from the socialite. She glares at me before shaking her hands around like she’s fallen into contact with some disgusting, contaminated germ.
Oh, right. I am the thing she’s disgusted by. I am the germ.
“Sorry,” I repeat. There’s no need to because it truly was a total accident and, technically, both our faults, but it’s ingrained in me to apologize - especially when I am wearing a cleaner’s uniform and feeling like a lowly worker next to a famous influencer. It feels like no way it can be her fault.
“Look where you’re going,” Octavia barks at me. She drops her refined, cultivated voice to really let loose in my direction. I blink, taken aback by her overtly aggressive forcefulness.
We’re both standing just inside the main doors of the hospital, surrounded by people shuffling in and out of the building. We receive a few puzzled looks from passersby - people are clearly thinking there might be a fight about to break out between us girls. It’s all very strange vibes that have suddenly come on, but a fight with Octavia is honestly the last thing I want.
As I look at her, all I can think about is that photo that Diana showed me of her and August standing at that elite party they attended. Octavia is taller than I thought she would be – she practically towers over me. Long, manicured nails. Sleek blonde hair perfectly styled in a ponytail. She’s so...sharp. A celebrity who’s seemingly walked off the front page of my social media. Otherworldly in the same way as Alda Penmayne. She truly looks like a million bucks. Standing this close to her, she evensmellslike fresh crisp money. No wonder August’s family wants him to be with her.
Is this really the woman the doctor is dating?
“It was a total accident,” I reply to the perfect specimen of a woman in front of me, taking another step back.
I realize we have a little crowd forming around us. People are definitely thinking something is about to happen and judging from Octavia’s expression of pure revulsion and loathing toward me, I am starting to think the same.
I don’t want this at all. I just want to retreat to my safe place in my bed.
“Well, you’ve touched me with your dirty hospital clothes,” Octavia retorts. “I bet I’ve got some infection now. Disgusting. What is that uniform, anyway? What are you, a cleaner or something?”
