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Keep telling yourself that, Sid, and you might begin to believe it.
I turn out the light and pull the duvet over my head.
*
The next morning, I open the curtains to discover it’s raining.
“Seems appropriate,” I mumble. I can hear someone in the shower—probably Hana, so I go into the kitchen.
“Morning.” Caro’s there eating toast. On the table are a pair of dirty socks, a bill from the electricity company, two plates with the remains of their dinner last night, and an empty wine bottle containing a candle. The wax has dripped all down the side and over half the table.
Thinking about Mack’s housekeeper with some envy, I pick up the plates, put them in the sink, and run cold water over them.
“Sorry,” Caro says, “I meant to do that.”
“It’s okay.” I throw her a smile. For the first time, though, I think that maybe it might be nice to have my own place. I’m sure Caro and Hana would rather live on their own, too. But what could I possibly afford to rent on my own? Only a room in another house, and that would leave Caro and Hana short here, too.
“How did it go?” Caro asks, waggling her eyebrows.
I open the fridge. The bag of bread only contains a crust, and there’s no butter. I close the fridge again, then flick the kettle on for a cup of tea.
“We don’t have any milk,” she says.
I flick it off again, then come and sit at the table, resolving to treat myself to a coffee and a breakfast bun on the way to work. I can’t afford it, but I don’t care. “It was wonderful,” I admit, bringing my legs up and wrapping my arms around my knees. “He took me to Il Pescatore.”
“The Italian? Holy shit. The meals there are, like, fifty bucks each.”
“I know. It was absolutely packed, and the manager himself showed us to a table right in the middle. We shared a platter and a tiramisu, and I had two cocktails.”
“Then what?”
“He took me back to his apartment.” I press my lips together.
Her eyes widen. “And…” I just smile, and she grins. “Really?” She leans forward on the table, eager for details. “What was he like?”
In the past, I might have been excited to boast about the sexy guy who made me come eight times before thrusting me into next Tuesday. But for some reason, I don’t want to talk about Mack now. It feels too private, not something I want to share and let others paw through as if they’re at a charity shop going through the belongings of someone who’s recently died.
Instead, I say, “He was lovely. I had a great time, and I’m really glad I went. But that’s it, I’m afraid.”
“What? Seriously?”
“Yeah. He’s a busy guy, and he told me he doesn’t have time for a relationship. But that’s okay. It was just like a Tinder hookup, right? You can’t expect to find Mr. Right on the first go. I mean Dr. Right.” I give a small, sad smile.
“Aw,” she says. “You really like him, don’t you?”
“He’s amazing. But I knew I’d never be the sort of girl who’d be able to hold his attention.”
Hana comes into the kitchen, wrapped in a robe, her hair hanging wet around her face. “Hey you! How did it go?”
“Yeah, good. I’ll let Caro give you the details. I need to have a shower.” I smile at them both, then leave the room and head for the bathroom.
I try not to think about Mack as I shower, but it’s impossible. My head is full of memories. As I slide my hands over my soapy skin, I remember his hands doing the same. The way his eyes lit up as he gave me orgasm after orgasm, directing me from one position to the next with sheer enjoyment. I had such a fantastic time. But there’s a lot more to a relationship than great sex.
*
It’s 23rd December, and the last day at work, so there’s a pleasant party atmosphere. Like most companies in New Zealand, Lubricanz will close for two weeks over Christmas, which means I can go with Dad when he has his treatment. Christmas is going to be a bit of a damp squib this year. But that’s okay; at least we know his treatment will begin on Tuesday.
The building where I work is situated on an industrial estate, and consists of a cluster of factory buildings, warehouses, and an office block. At eleven, I stop for a pleasant morning tea that’s been organized for the staff, choose a mince pie and a piece of Christmas cake, and take them and a coffee back to my desk.
