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“Well that’s never going to work out! Bree, you’d be so much happier with Jesse, and he’d be happier with a girlfriend who lives in the same country as him. You know,” she paused and looked down coyly, a blush colouring her cheeks, “when I dated Jesse, he hated us being apart. He said he didn’t understand people who do the long distance thing. He prefers to be close.”
I remembered. With Taylor, he was an amazing boyfriend. He took care of her and he wanted to be by her side, and for her to be part of everything he did. Not in a smothering way, in a romantic, can’t-imagine-being-with-anyone-else kind of way.
“I guess he’s changed,” I said, breaking free from my thoughts. “He’s in love with Isabelle.”
“Isabelle.” Taylor rolled her eyes, straightening up and tilting her head backwards, her nose in the air. Adopting a fake British accent she said, “She sounds absolutely tedious, darling. Nothing more than a passing infatuation.”
I laughed out loud. Taylor’s accent was dreadful, but it had the desired effect. Making me forget my problems for a while. She grinned at me. “I’m just saying, don’t let some random chick from miles away stop you going after what you want. Jude’s making you miserable so why not consider your options?”
I had options? An alarming thought hurtled into the forefront of my mind. Was that what the make-up course was about? Me earning my own money so I could leave Jude? No. God, no! It was about earning money, but not for that reason. But… could I seriously live with Jude forever when he wouldn’t even let me try one thing I wanted to do?
Taylor gave me an understanding smile. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
I barely noticed as she rose from her seat and walked to the ladies room. In the background, I vaguely heard the sound of a news reporter on the TV talking about the possibility of incoming storms over the next few days; the storm I was most concerned about raged inside my head.
Was Jesse really an option? An option I would be willing to risk my marriage for?
Some marriage. When the man you love won’t even listen to you, what does that say about your chances of living happily ever after? Maybe it would be best for everyone if I did leave. Then Jude could be with someone better suited to him. Not some stray he picked up off the street, someone who had a past that didn’t read like a horror story.
Screw it. I needed alcohol. I stood with the intention of heading to the bar when I noticed Will and Miguel looming over me.
“Not now. I don’t need a lecture.”
“I disagree,” Will said. “What the hell are you doing with her, Bree?”
The disappointment in his eyes caused a bubble of annoyance to rise inside me. Apparently nobody thought I could make my own decisions.
“I’m having a drink. That’s all.”
“That’s never ‘all’ when Taylor’s involved. How did this even happen?”
“What does it matter?” I shuffled across the bench away from them, wishing they’d both disappear so I could continue my conversation with one of the only people who actually listened. And yeah, I wasn’t stupid enough to believe she cared but she still managed to do a better job of paying attention than the other people in my life who called themselves my friends.
“I think it’ll matter to Leah and Radleigh,” Miguel said. “And to Jesse.”
The mention of his name made me pause. I hadn’t processed what it might do to him if he found out I’d gone back on what I’d said about Taylor. He was the onl
y person who’d believed I wouldn’t fall under her spell again, yet there I was hanging out with her, laughing with her.
“It’s just a drink.”
“Bree,” Will said, his eyes softer. “You need to get away from her. You know what she’s like.”
I moved back across the bench towards Will and Miguel, and pushed them aside. “You know what? I’m leaving. Not because you said I should. Because I am so sick of everyone trying to tell me what I can and can’t do, and who I can and can’t talk to. Maybe you’d all be happier if I had nothing of my own and spent my days sitting at home alone, cleaning the house and cooking Jude’s dinner, until he finally comes home and tells me if I’m allowed out to play!”
The surprise on Will and Miguel’s faces didn’t shock me. I sounded like a bitch – and I never usually spoke to anyone that way – but I didn’t care. On the day I was supposed to be ecstatic after “test driving” my dream job, I was being dictated to by everyone I knew.
I shoved Will out of the way and he took a hold of my hand. “Wait.”
“For what?” I snapped. “So you can tell me how unreasonable I’m being? Well, screw you. I get to make my own choices, okay? And right now, I choose to get away from you.”
“Bree-”
“Go to hell.”
I stormed out of Genie’s and onto the beach where the gentle evening breeze was a relief to my flaming cheeks. I hated them. Hated them for trying to tell me what to do. Hated them for not letting me be myself.
Hated them because they were right.
