“Bloody hell, Riley,” I had to say it. Tell myself off, because this was just stupid. Absolutely stupid.
Okay. Get a grip. Lights and music still in the distance and I’d had what? Three, four glasses of wine with dinner? Shots? Probably enoughto fell an elephant, let alone a tall bloke with zero stamina. I didn’t go out, didn’t drink at home, and now suddenly I was thinking I could handle a bottle and a half… Two bottles of cheap plonk, and not lose my shoes, my key…and probably myself?
I was sad. Sad and tired and the world was unfair and unkept, and the beach was pitch black and now I was walking in the wrong direction again. Not clever. Not smart. Not… Fuck, Riley. Not safe. Anything could happen out here, and anyway, who knew who was actually on this island? There could be serial killers and terrorists and… What had that woman said? Mental health nurse? I needed more than a mental health nurse; I needed my head examined. Why the hell had I forked out my entire savings account on this trip? Me? Seriously? To do what? I wasn't the kind of person who'd stalk my ex across the seas in some vague, ill-advised hope he’d see the light and take me back.
I had no idea why I was suddenly sobbing, falling to my knees in the warm sand. I was just…so sad. So disappointed and abandoned, and I hated…
I hated that I had failed at my one good thing in life. The love I had lost. The future, which was this. Me being alone and him fucking someone else.
I cried because I was drunk. But mostly I cried because I had no idea where to go from here.
Chapter 3
Noah
Igave in far too easily, with my mother’s persistent knocking on the door making my frazzled head hurt. I had a sneaky feeling it was somewhere in the middle of the night where my body clock was, but the obvious sunshine streaming through the gap in the curtains revealed something I didn’t like very much. Daylight. No more sleep.
I needed all the sleep.
Also, Mother? This was supposed to be a holiday, something she just laughed at as I demanded five minutes to get myselfin order.
I could hear her standing outside the door, tutting and complaining to my dad. This was my life. No mercy for the poor soul who worked full-on weeks, did too much overtime and never got out of the surgery on time.
The life of a bog-standard GP, in a suburban practice where every ailment under the sun magically became my personal responsibility.
I shouldn’t complain because I was not only very lucky, very comfortable in life and very, very…wrung out. I had colleagues off with stress, with horrific illness and family matters that would make anyone falter. I just had me, and still? I was exhausted most of the time. I went home every day, and sometimes? I just rolled into bed and slept in my clothes. Not ideal. Not fancy or smart, but it was just me, so why did it matter?
Well, today it did because I had to throw myself in the weird-ass hotel shower and scrub off not only sleep but also sand and sweat and sun cream, and dress myself in something fittingly holidaysy-yet-decent to please my parents’ disapproving looks as I stepped out onto the sandy path outside.
“Better,” Mum said, rather sternly. “If we are to impress Mr Riley, we need to up our game, Noah.”
“Oh stop it,” I whined. “Mum, please let me have a break.”
“Nope!” She cackled. “First night and I already have a contender. Who would have thought?”
“You don’t even know him!” I threw my hands in the air. A futile gesture, because I knew I stood no chance here. “I’m going to have the day off, Mum, read my book and enjoy the weather. Just me on my own in bed with a nice dinner tonight and a bottle of red. I am going to enjoy the ideal holiday. And you can’t stop me.”
“Bah.” Mum shrugged. “Watch me.”
Breakfast? I wolfed it down and let myself sit there like the useless blob I was. The table in the corner that had held my undivided attention last night? This morning, it housed only four very hungover men, and noneof them was Ringlet-man. I saw Mum’s point, though. Two of them were definitely a couple, and the other two were animatedly retelling stories that I was pretty sure weren’t…great. Lots of shaking of heads and rolling of eyes. Enough drama that even I was invested.
“See?” Mum whispered, having returned from a slightly weird detour to inspect the plastic flower arrangements alongside the back wall. Also? Here it was, more gossip.
“So, they were talking about Thomas. Not sure who Thomas is, but he’s done it now. And he’s a bit of an arsehole. I’m very intrigued.”
“You don’t know these people, dear,” Dad pointed out, as Mum just threw up jazz hands in frustration.
“No, but they are Mr Riley’s friends, and he looked most distressed last night. He’s single, and handsome, and should be here having the time of his life. Instead, he looked positively heartbroken. I didn’t like it. Don’t you worry, I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“You should go back to volunteering, Gill.” Dad sighed, “This gossipmongering is all good and entertaining, I agree, but perhaps you could put your skills to better use where needed.”
I had to laugh, because yes, like that would happen. Mum lived for things like this. Me? I preferred to just read the book. Much less traumatic for everyone involved.
“He’s obviously having a lie-in. You should go bring him a coffee, Noah. Knock on his door. Wildly romantic.”
Yes. That was me spluttering out my coffee over the pristine tablecloth. Then having to wipe my T-shirt down with a napkin. Not a good look for anyone involved. And of course, here was the attentive waiter offering up another napkin and a fresh cup, like I hadn’t just misbehaved at the children’s table.
I felt like it, almost forty or not.
