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There is no point trying to hide it. We promised. No bullshit.
‘Yes.’
‘Can we survive alongside it?’
‘We could, but I don’t want to. I’m already nowhere near good enough for her.’
‘Wow. Look who’s made of boyfriend material after all.’
I note her irritation and try to temper it.
‘I don’t know. It’s painful, keeping my hands to myself right now. The only way to do that is to come clean.’
It works, and she smiles. ‘Farewell tour?’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
‘Who is she?’
‘It’s Ariella.’
She looks put out. ‘You’re dumping me for the annoying, spoilt black girl that moved in with you?’
‘I’m asking you to let me go, Mel…’
‘I thought I’d be the one ending this. Are you going to tell her about us?’
‘Yes. Eventually. You changed my life, Mel.’
‘And you’re “asking me to let you go” because you know I have the power to change it again.’
It is a thinly veiled threat, masked behind what looks like a smile. I feel sick.
‘I know you do.’ This is getting uncomfortable.
‘Stay with me this week and give me a chance to change your mind.’
‘My mind is made up, Mel. I want you to know that you’ve been the closest thing I’ve ever had to a girlfriend; it wasn’t just about the work.’
‘Are you getting emotional, Caleb?’ Mel grabs a pillow and hits me.
‘Shut up!’ I grab a pillow and retaliate and it descends into a pillow fight. Danger over. Phew.
I knew it was wrong, but I stayed with Melissa that week. I kept my hands to myself even though she made it almost impossible to do so. She stripped, got dressed and paraded her beautiful naked body in front of me. She slept next to me in various states of undress, constantly touching and cuddling me. If I wasn’t so stupid, I would have known she was circling.
Thankfully, Ariella never rang, her texts were always short and they arrived at the same time each day. The limited contact made me crave her presence more, but I kept my focus on getting through the next few days.
I was positively gleeful on my last night in Singapore. Mel arranged for us to have a champagne-fuelled Michelin-star dinner in our suite to celebrate our last night together. She looked beautiful and, with every movement she made and look she gave me, I felt myself getting hard. I’d battled with keeping myself in check all week and won, but tonight there was nothing I could do to control it. I spent the meal keeping my groin covered.
After dinner, we sat on the balcony, drinking and chatting. I held on to my napkin for as long as I could.
When the food and staff are gone, Mel leads me by the hand to the bedroom before turning her back to me.
‘Zip, please,’ she asks softly.
I cover my anxiety with laughter. ‘When did you get polite?’
‘Since I’m about to ask you to make love to me. One last time.’
