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I couldn’t go back there today; I couldn't bring myself to concentrate and Kellie would want all the details, I’m not ready just yet. When I say details, she’d crave the gory details about Troy.
My fingers flew across the keyboard as I replied to her message;
Hey. Can we have a rain check on the wine? It’s been a long day but I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. Are you good to close up? x
The bubbles danced across the screen so I waited for her message to pop up.
Of course. You know where I am if you need to talk, just call me. Please don't bottle anything up. x
I won’t I promise. And thank you. I’m so glad I have you. x
I replied right away and went back to my other messages. I had to pull my big girl knickers up and just read his messages.
Troy: Are you okay? You left so soon.
I could see his moronic smirk as he typed it. I skipped it and opened the next one.
We need to talk, Emily. We have a lot to discuss.
I couldn’t. How could I go back there now? I left him just after sex. When did I turn into such a bitch? “No chance.” I sniped as I closed off my messages. I slid my phone across the counter, grabbed my wine and turned my back to the counter. As I lifted the glass to my lips, I heard it vibrating. I looked over my shoulder and saw Troy’s name, so I let it ring out. I took another big gulp of my wine and decided on a shower, to rid myself of the day even though it was still early. I climbed the stairs and started stripping out of my black skirt and white blouse. As I reached the bedroom doorway, I kicked my shoes over the threshold and carried on across to the bathroom and started the water while I finished undressing. I shouted to Alexa, my echo that sat in the bedroom, to play Meatloaf and turn the volume up. I stepped inside the cubicle and tugged the door across just as the first notes of Bat Out of Hell came on and stood beneath the steaming water. I didn’t want sad songs, I wanted something loud and uplifting; after all, my dad had just landed the final blow. I was upset, I was angry and what better music than Meatloaf to get out your feelings. I sang along to every word of the song. It was my theme tune when I left. My dad didn’t even know when I was going. After the night we argued about me pursuing art and he said it was worthless, I knew he’d never support my dreams. All he was interested in was me helping him to run the business, to take over from him; he didn’t care what I wanted. He didn’t need me, he had Troy.
I felt like all those lunches we had and the talking we’d done was for nothing. I didn’t want his fortune but I would’ve liked the family home.
Once I’d washed, I stepped out and wrapped myself in a towel from the shelf. I wrapped my hair in a smaller one and went to my room. Quickly, I dried and dressed in a pair of joggers and a vest. I rubbed some moisturiser over my face and left it clear of makeup, I wasn’t going anywhere else anyway, I just wanted to slob around with my own company. I took the towel from my hair and let it drop down my back. I dragged the brush through the knots of my blonde locks and twisted it into a bun. I secured it with a hair elastic and went back downstairs to my wine.
As I entered the living room, I switched Meatloaf from my speaker upstairs to the one down here and waltzed into the kitchen. I picked up my wine again and checked my phone. I’d missed calls and I’d received messages from Troy, but fuck him. I wasn’t answering him. I started to open the messages one by one but I wasn’t going toanswer and when he saw that I’d read them and not replied, then he’d realise I’m ignoring him.
Troy: I know you enjoyed it just as I did.
Em, don’t play games. We’re adults and I don't have time for games. Fucking answer me!
I opened the next one. I noticed the time frame between the two messages and this one, he’d waited five minutes before he sent me the next. When I looked at the time, I saw I’d been upstairs about twenty minutes, and in that time, I’d had five messages and two missed calls. What the fuck? Who does he think he is?
I tapped on the next message.
Emily, I swear to fucking God, if you don’t answer me, I’ll come round there.
“I don't think you fucking will,” I said to my phone and threw it back down. The worst thing I could do was see him. Oh fuck, what have I done? I still needed to go back for my mother’s things. Maybe I could work it so I could go back when he wasn’t there… fuck it!I growled.
What was the best thing for a time like this? Wine. I headed back to the kitchen and gulped down what was already in my glass and poured another then lifted it up in a toast, “Cheers Dad, thanks for fucking my life up.”
Chapter Seven
TROY
The wheels of Mitch’s Aston Martin DB10 screeched to a stop outside Emily’s house. If she won’t answer my calls or my messages then she’d have to see me face to face. I slammed the car door shut and pressed the fob to lock it up as I marched to the front door. My fists clenched tightly, and I banged hard on the door. A minute passed and she didn't answer. I banged again and tried to keep my patience in check. When I didn't see her coming to the door, I lifted the letterbox and crouched down. “Emily!” I shouted through the small gap. “I know you’re there so you may as well let me in. I released the letterbox and it banged as it closed and I waited again. I’m not moving until she answers the door. That’s twice she’d run. It was becoming a nasty habit.
“Em!” I shouted again just as I saw a shadow behind the window in the door. “Open the door.” I followed in a softer tone. I heard the key turn and the lock opening but not the door. I pushed down on the handle and as I opened it up to step inside, Emily was already walking away. I followed her through the lounge and found her in the kitchen. My head turned and I looked around me. Her place was small but quaint - I liked it. She pressed her back against the counter, wrapped one arm around her middle and held a wine glass in her other. I moved to pass through and she shook her head at me. “No. Stay there.”
The corners of my mouth pulled into a smirk but I stayed where I was, regardless.
“What do you want?”
“Why did you leave?” I threw out the question that had been playing on my mind since I heard the door shut.
“Erm…” She shrugged and lifted her glass to her lips.
“Can I get one of those?” I interrupted her train of thought; not like she was going to answer me anyway.
