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“Luke,” I say.
He shakes his head. “You don't have to say it.”
He's wrong; I do. Not for him—although I think he should hear it from me—but for myself. I need to sever the final cords that bind us.
“I'm sorry.” This is harder than I thought. It's like rolling in fibreglass; my whole body hurts. “It's really over.”
He turns in his seat, grabbing hold of my hand. His eyes are glassy. I feel my own start to water as my heart hammers against my chest.
“I don't want it to be,” he whispers. “I was a dick, but I love you, I really do. You know that, don't you?”
The car pulls away, engine rumbling dully. From the corner of my eye I see the driver glancing at us in the rear-view mirror. How many life-changing moments has he seen in mirror image? First dates, long kisses, short goodbyes. The fading embers of a dying love.
“You cheated on me, again and again. That’s not love Luke, that's not even like. That's...” I try to find the right word. “That's disdain.”
“Give me another chance.” He brings my hand to his lips; his breath hot against my skin. “I won't fuck it up this time.”
The wavering of moments ago is gone, replaced by a certainty that feels cold as ice. He's lying. He might not know it, he might not mean it, but there are some things in life that are crystal clear. The sun will rise in the morning, the world will continue to turn, and Luke will keep looking at other women.
No, not just looking. Touching, kissing... fucking.
Gently, I pull my hand away. “I can't, I can't give you another chance. If I do, I'm cheating myself. I won't do that.”
He recoils as if I've hit him, and lets go of my hand so fast it drops right into my lap.
“Don't flatter yourself,” he says, his eyes narrow, his mouth mean.
“What?” The sudden transformation startles me.
“You're nothing special, babe. You're pretty, yeah, and your body's okay. But you can't wear a tight dress to save your life without looking like a deformed freak.”
I open my mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. The merest hint of a breath escapes my lips.
“You think I want you because you're perfect?” He carries on. “You're nowhere close. But you're easy, you're dumb and you turn a blind eye.” He laughs but it's anything but funny. “You're the ideal girlfriend.”
“You were right. You are a dick.” I'm not going to cry, not in front of him. I try to keep my voice even. “You're an ignorant, cheating arsehole with the biggest ego I've ever seen.”
I lean forward and speak to the taxi driver. “Can you stop here please?”
He winks. “With pleasure, love.” He presses his foot to the brake, slowly pulling up beside the pavement. “There you go sweetheart, no charge to you.”
“Thanks.” I give him a tight smile. Then I sit back and grab the handle, putting my weight on the door to open it. Before I leave, I glance at Luke for a final time, wondering why I ever thought he was being sincere. “And by the way, your ego's the only big thing about you.”
“Fuck off.”
“Gladly.” I get out, slamming the door behind me. Adrenaline rushes through my body, making me jittery and high. I breathe in deeply, letting the fresh air overpower the nasty taste in my mouth.
The driver unwinds his window, leaning his arm on the door as he looks out. “Best of luck to you. You're better off out of it.” Then he pulls away, leaving me open mouthed. The last thing I see before the cab disappears into the darkness is Luke's angry face half obscured by the glass.
* * *
At exactly 9:00 a.m. the next morning, I slide a venti Americano with steamed milk onto Callum's desk, then turn to walk out of his office.
“Amy?”
I look over my shoulder. He's staring at me through those dark, auburn lashes. “Yes?”
“Are you okay?” He tilts his head to the side, still looking.
