And there she was, in the flesh. Her hair still dyed blonde, but curly again like when I saw her for the first time. She looked tired, cynical. Bored. And a little sad. I recognised these emotions instantly as it was the same way I'd been feeling fo...
I'd used the excuse I had an awards dinner to go to that Saturday night which prevented me from dealing with Iona myself. I hated those kind of events, but for once I was thankful.
I couldn't concentrate that evening though. Making small talk with virtual strangers was something I had always struggled with at the best of times. I'd actually became pretty good at faking it thanks to my previous life in marketing but today I couldn't even attempt that. I was just too distracted. And I couldn't even have a drink as I was driving.
I promised myself I'd have a glass of whisky in the bar once I got back to the hotel though; a reward for getting through the night.
But when I walked into the hotel, the first person I saw was her. Hair messy, eyes closed, a contented smile playing on her lips as she cradled a glass of whisky of her own. The light from the fire played across the curves of her cheekbones, and waves of longing flooded my heart as I froze in the doorway of the bar.
Once again, I wondered how on earth I was going to cope with being in such close proximity to her.
Her eyes slowly opened and focused in on me, and I immediately looked away, glancing towards Alice instead, who was sitting with her. As I'd suspected, they'd clearly bonded immediately.
"Ryan!" Alice shouted delightedly, spotting me too. "How was the dinner?" Feeling like I had no choice but to go over, I started making my way across the bar. Alice turned back to Iona as I approached the table. "Ryan was at a hotel award dinner tonight," she explained.
"It was dull," I said honestly. I hooked a finger into the knot of my already loosened tie; I suddenly felt like it was strangling me. "I hate networking." I knew I still had to acknowledge Iona so I forced myself to meet her eyes again. "You made it."
Despite myself, I wanted to smile at her. I fought the urge. I was terrified she'd realise how I truly felt about her despite everything, and I couldn't let her know.
Plus she was the one who had ghosted me. And never told me why.
I had to keep this strictly business.
"I did." She did smile but it stopped short of her eyes. It felt like tension was buzzing between us.
"You want to join us for a drink?" Alice asked me. I wasn't sure if she was aware of the atmosphere or not, but I was going to assume yes. It was Alice, after all.
I needed to get out of here. I shook my head. "I would but I'm knackered. I'm gonna head straight to bed."
Thankfully, I thought as I awkwardly backed away and left the bar, Ihad a well-stocked whisky collection in my room anyway.
I dropped into a chair in the bedroom, my hand cupped around a large measure of Glenmorangie, and took a deep breath. I honestly didn't know how I was going to do this.
I'd struggled to move on as it was, after all those years, without even having her in my life. This situation was going to make it so much harder.
"It's only 12 months," I muttered. "What's another fucking year?" I'd been putting myself through this torture forever anyway, so why not pile some extra pain on? I rolled my eyes and downed the rest of my whisky.
As I was about to get undressed, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror and realised I'd chosen to wear a lilac shirt and purple tie that night . . . And, of course, Iona's favourite colour had always been purple.
Had I unconsciously made the decision to wear that colour, knowing deep down I was likely to run into her?
Had I unconsciously decided to go to the bar first rather than directly to my room because I knew she'd be there?
Was I the world's biggest masochist?
Probably . . .
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