A SMILE IN A WHISTLE

PART TWO: REBIRTH

Chapter 11

When Sarah woke up the next morning, her hangover was unbearable... Too much wine! Never again! she scolded herself. As she gradually opened her eyes which were tormented by the bright sunlight beaming through the curtains of the bedroom, she managed to recall everything that had happened at The Dash. But she had forgotten how she got home and into bed. She looked down and realised she was still wearing her previous night's outfit: her dark trousers and purple top. They stank of alcohol. Two voices coming from the living room suddenly grabbed her attention. She forced herself to get up, then tiptoed to the bedroom door, her head spinning every two steps. She soon recognized Ben's voice. That reminded her of what she wanted to do today: break up with him. The photos she saw in the club's toilets had made her sick – the alcohol too but that didn't bother her as much as the photos. When she opened the door, she spotted Ben sitting on the sofa with her brother Mark.

"Hi there!" said Ben. "How are you doing this morning?"

"What... What are you doing here, Mark?" Sarah asked without even paying attention to her boyfriend.

"Hi! Well, I stayed here for a few hours."

"Why?"

"Don't you remember?" he snickered.

Ben was laughing too.

"No," replied Sarah, not amused.

"You called me last night to come and get you at The Dash. You were very drunk, sis'!"

"Why didn't you call me, honey?" asked Ben.

Sarah peered at him with disgust, but still couldn't answer. If she opened her mouth, she would most definitely yell at him; she didn't want to begin a fight in front of her brother.

"She was so drunk..." joked Mark. "She wasn't thinking very clearly!"

"Well... Thank you for bringing me... here," said Sarah, trying to get her act together. "Isn't Kelly waiting for you?" she asked, hoping to get her brother to leave.

"Yeah, I guess so. Thanks so much for the coffee, Ben. It was great to have a chat for a few hours!"

"You're welcome anytime, as always."

They shook hands whilst Sarah waved goodbye from the bedroom door. The moment Mark closed the front door behind him, Ben suggested a cup of coffee to help Sarah start the day.

"No," she said, in an unhappy tone. "I have something...to say..."

"Did you have a good time last night? The Dash is quite a place, isn't it!"

"Yes... Ben... Listen. I saw some photos."

"Oh, yeah! All over the toilet walls, that's a great idea, isn't it!" he commented while placing used mugs into the dishwasher. "I don't know any other club that does that, do you?"

"Photos... of..." Sarah struggled. "Photos of... you and a woman."

Ben immediately stopped what he was doing and stared at the dishwasher.

"Who is she?" Sarah asked.

"A colleague," he replied briefly.

He did his best to answer Sarah's question casually, but his body couldn't lie; it was tense.

"You and that girl were kissing!" Sarah pointed out, raising her voice.

Ben sighed, saddened that his girlfriend had found out. He gave up tidying and turned to face Sarah.

"I told her not to put any photos up..." Ben said.

Sarah had hoped to hear something a little more regretful on his part.

"Is that... Is that all you have to say?"

"You weren't meant to see that, Sarah!" exclaimed Ben.

"That is not the point! The point...is that you were kissing her!"

"I was drunk and things got out of hand. That is all."

"There were many photos, Ben..." Sarah made clear.

She felt sick as a dog, but somehow she managed to carry on.

"It didn't happen just once, did it!"

"Sarah, I'm so sorry–"

"Really?" she argued. "You didn't look sorry in the photos... BIG SMILES ON BOTH YOUR FACES!"

Sarah stomped off, slammed the bathroom door, then violently threw up in the toilet. Ben remained motionless in the kitchen.

While under the warm water of the shower, Sarah progressively felt better. Deep down, she was pleased. Her anger had driven her to be brave and decide what she wanted. Once she had changed into fresh clothes, she returned to Ben and told him she was leaving him.

"It was a mistake, Sarah!" he cried out. "Don't read into it!"

"This isn't working out anymore."

"Please, don't put an end to us... I love coming back to you every evening!"

"This isn't just because of the photos; I need a change."

"Is there someone else?" asked Ben.

"What? How dare you!" shouted Sarah, uncomfortable with that question. "I find photos of you with another woman and you think, because I want to leave you, that there is someone else? And even if there was, what difference would it make now? You cheated on me, why shouldn't I do the same to you?"

Ben came closer and tried to take Sarah's hand. She stepped back immediately.

"Please, Sarah... Do you really want to throw away all that we have built together?"

For a brief moment, Sarah did have second thoughts about the breakup, as it was, just like Ben said, throwing everything away. Everything that she had known for seven years. But in essence, she was truly longing for change. The photos at The Dash were just the final sign that she was doing the right thing. Breaking up was hard for her but she was relieved that she had the perfect excuse to end the relationship with Ben, without having to explain how complicated her own life felt since Sam's return.

"You can keep the apartment, Ben. I will move out," she told him, grabbing her shoes near the front door.

"It didn't mean a thing with that colleague!" Ben begged.

"It doesn't matter anymore," she said gently. "I assure you, this is what I want. A new start."

Tears started to well up in Ben's eyes, but Sarah felt liberated. Like a bird that was set free after years trapped in a cage. It was a rebirth for her.

Sarah collected a few of her personal belongings, then left Ben to himself in the apartment. He didn't know what to do; there was an unexpected void he wasn't used to. The flat that they had once chosen together, and that had brought them so much joy, had become a cold, solitary space. As for Sarah, she took the bus to her parents' house – she was still too hungover to drive – and planned to rest there for a couple of days.