I nod at him in agreement. Idoneed to get out of the apartment. “Maybe I’ll call Lauren. I haven’t seen her in a while. She probably won’t even fancy it, but I’ll try, I guess.”
Greg hesitates for a moment. I always get the impression he never liked Lauren much, especially since I’ve been off workand taking some time out. When I bring her up in conversation he isn’t interested. In fact, Greg hasn’t really been interested in anything but money. But, before the dreams began, I was the same. I found I could shove all of these feelings far down inside me with money. But there is only so much room in your body until those feelings explode back out.
“I’m sure she’d like that. She has asked about you… I believe,” he tentatively replies.
“She has?” I question.
“Yeah, she, er, messaged your mother asking how you were as she hadn’t heard from you in weeks. Your mother told her you were just going through a blip.” He shrugs and starts to put on his coat.
“A blip? Brilliant…” That’s typical of my mother. Lie so the family looks normal.
“She was just trying to protect you, and it is just a blip, isn’t it? Wedding stress, work stress, I’m sure everyone has them.” His eyes widen with wanting to get reassurance that I’m not mentally insane and just need a nap and a bit of time off.
I nod. “Yeah, you’re right, it’ll pass. I’m sorry for worrying you.”
“Just try, for me.” He rubs my arm sympathetically. In a world where money talks, you don’t discuss feelings that are not “normal”.
“I’ll try.” I fake a smile to ease his tension.
His shoulders drop and his frown returns as he picks up his phone. He starts to text, email or whatever he does, which is most of the time. And his attention from me is gone. But most millennials are glued to their phones, right?
“Good. Now, I’ve got to work late tonight, so don’t wait up, OK?” He doesn’t look up from his phone.
I sigh. “Again?”
He places his phone in his pocket and stares at me, annoyedI dared to question him when it comes to work, especially as I’m not currently working, or doing anything to be honest.
“Oh, don’t, Harri. I’ve got so much on, and I need to work longer while you’re off to pay for this wedding. I’m doing my best over here. You know I’ve got stress at work and home. Give me a bit of a break.” His voice carries an air of frustration.
He’s been more stressed in the past few weeks, and I do feel guilty that I’m the cause of it.
“I know, I’m sorry. I just miss you when you’re not here.” I pull myself into him. He smells like aftershave. I stroke up his chest with my hands, looking up at him with my big blue eyes. I start to unbutton his collar when he pulls my hands away gently.
“I’m already late, babe. Another time.” He pats my ass and moves away.
I’m disappointed but also relieved, which sounds awful, but for weeks I just haven’t felt the urge to jump his bones. I’ve just turned twenty-five and now have the sex drive of a menopausal fifty-year-old.
I watch him grab his suit jacket and leave. I return to looking out into the grey skies above. We’re on the forty-ninth floor, so I have views that stretch miles around, but today I can just see the tops of the buildings peeking through the foggy morning. There is something that’s comforting about this weather. In a matter of weeks, I’ve gone from loving my Monaco summers, partying in Mayfair at the weekends, wearing skintight dresses and stiletto heels to spending my time in an oversized jumper, not leaving the apartment and craving the rain. It feels like somebody came in the night and switched my brain for somebody else’s and my life has completely changed.
I finish my coffee and put the pot on for another cup. I find my phone on the sofa and pick it up to text Lauren. My phone feels alien in my hand; I’ve only charged it in case my mother or Greg needs to call me. I select Lauren’s name and begin to writeout a message.
Hey Lauren,
Hope you’re OK. Sorry I haven’t been in touch. I’ve been taking some time out.
Fancy meeting for coffee today?
Harri x
I press send and head to the bedroom to get myself in some sort of state that I am able to leave the apartment. I sit at my white dressing table which is full of products. Skincare for every part of the body. Enough makeup to kit out an entire bridal party and all the latest hair utensils that you can dream of. I sit for a minute looking in the mirror. My once tanned complexion is now pale, my long dark hair looks even darker than before and just hangs down loosely over my shoulders and back. I don’t want to fake tan, I don’t have that energy, so I opt for a paler foundation that matches my Snow White skin and brush mascara through my long already black lashes, emphasising my deep blue eyes. I pop some blush on the apples of my cheeks to give me a bit of colour, hoping it’ll disguise the fact I’ve been a hermit for weeks.
It’ll do. I head over to our walk-in wardrobe which has rails and rails of clothes on either side. At the back is a full wall just full of my prized heels and designer bags. I remove Greg’s giant cream jumper from my body and stare at myself in the mirror. I’ve gained weight for sure, but it’s given me shape, curves. I look softer. I look healthier than when I kept my body under a hundred and twenty-five pounds. All so I could look good in photos and be the envy of those around me. I pick a baby blue Oxford shirt, some slightly stretchy blue Levi’s and my trainers that I use for the gym. I add my tote and matching sunglasses to hide my face in case I bump into anyone I know. I pop on a navy jumper for extra comfort and head back into the kitchen to have my second cup of coffee.
My phone rings. It’s Lauren. I pick it up and put it on to speaker so I can carry on pouring my coffee.
“Harri!” she screams in her girly high voice. “What have you been doing?”
“Hey, Lauren, just taking some time out of the dream life, you know?” I chuckle hoping it throws her off any scent of anything being odd.
