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“I will be honoured to be your first, Chelsea, and every time after.”
The quilt rises as Lucian reaches his hand across to my side. I freeze, about to chastise him because I didn’t say I wanted to have sex with himnow. But Lucian surprises me by linking his fingers with mine. Such a tiny move on his part, yet it sends shock waves coursing through me.
“Good night, Chelsea.”
I smile and close my eyes. “Good night, Lucian.”
Light filters in through the curtains and I crack open my eyes. Everything is fuzzy to begin with, and it takes several seconds of wiping sleep from my lashes to focus.
I glance around and realise that I’m lying on Lucian’s chest. I try to sit up but am held in place by the weight of his arm that is wrapped around me.
“Lucian,” I say while at the same time nudging him, but he doesn’t answer. His eyes are closed and his breaths are heavy. I hold my breath and carefully remove his arm. Free from his hold, I lie on my side of the bed, or at least I would if Lucian wasn’t sleeping diagonally across the mattress. The bolster is nowhere to be seen, and I can’t help wondering if it got tossed onto the floor when we were asleep or if Lucian secretly discarded it.
I may as well get up—there is no point trying to go back to sleep, at least not now. The conversation Lucian and I had last night replays in my mind. In the cool light of day, and with the evening’s alcohol out of my system, I can finally reflect. It surprises me that I don’t feel the smallest ounce of regret. Embarrassment, yes, but regret, no.
I slide out of bed, take the glass from the nightstand and have a sip of water. The drink catches in the back of my throat as I take a sharp inhale.
My phone.
The device is on charge and lying face down. I replace the glass on the nightstand, grab my phone and pad across the room to the en suite. The en suite is stunning, a long and rectangular room with spotlights running its length. The lights reflect from the white marble tiles, giving the illusion of tiny gemstones sparkling all around me. How easy it would be to get lost in the wonder of this place.
I lock the door behind me to make sure I won’t be disturbed. I press the power button and glance around as my phone loads. There is a large walk-in shower with a waterfall-style showerhead. Not far from the shower is a jacuzzi bath, and a TV hanging above in a wall alcove. Everything is so clean, so white, and so big.
A few seconds pass before my screensaver appears. It’s a photo of me, Lizzie and my sister during a night out. Amber is sticking out her tongue, I am doing a Marilyn Monroe pose, and Lizzie, God love her, is attempting to cover her face—she never has cared for having her photo taken. My screensaver image is there for only a second before my phone is hijacked by message after message filling the screen.
Amber, Amber, Lizzie, Amber, Amber, Tyler… Names flash in individual text boxes for a split second before the box moves down and is replaced by another. I don’t wait to be bombarded by any more texts, so open the message app. In total I have five voicemails and eighty-three texts.
Panic radiates through me. I’ve missed countless messages from my sister. She must be worried sick about me, and she’s pregnant. I’ll never forgive myself if I’ve caused her unnecessary stress. With shaky hands I open her messages and scroll all the way to the top.
Amber: Hey, sis, you’ll never guess what? Rick surprised me and Freja with a weekend away in his motor home. I will send you photos.
My hands feel less shaky as I scroll down and see image after image of Amber and her family at the seaside, at the fair, and finally swimming.
The last message I received from her was at ten pm last night, and it reads:
Amber: Hey, sis, I’ve tried calling but your phone is off, is everything okay?
I waste no time in clicking on her name. The call rings out and she answers on the eighth ring.
“Chelsea?” Her voice sounds muffled, like she’s still in bed, which is where I would be had Lucian the space invader not taken up the entire mattress.
“Hey, sis,” I say, my voice unusually chirpy.
Amber yawns down the receiver. “I’ve been trying to call you, are you okay? Lizzie said she dropped by the flat to see you, but you weren’t in.”
My heartbeat begins picking up in my chest, because I can’t lie to my sister. But what good will telling her the truth do? Amber thinks I hate Lucian, and I do—I did. Amber would never believe our lie, that I agreed to marry him. The truth that me being here is all an act would only hurt her, cause her to worry, which isn’t good for my baby nephew, and that I will not allow.
I look long and hard at my reflection before turning my back on myself. “I’ve actually decided to join Tyler in America.” The lie falls from my lips with ease.
“Oh, my God, seriously?” Amber says, her voice high-pitched.
“Yes, seriously. I’m just about to board the plane. I won’t be able to message much when I’m in the States, but I will send you updates.”
“You will be back in time for Lizzie’s wedding, won’t you?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Right, sis, I’ve got to go, enjoy your weekend away and give my favourite niece a big hug from me,” I say, and cut the call.
I message my friends, family, and finally my boss informing them all the same thing, that I have decided to go to America. There is only one thing left to do. I click on Tyler’s name.
