The Great Ex-Scape (Sneak peek- soon to be published.)

Chapter 5

The knock on the hotel room door happened at precisely 3:33 a.m. I know this, because I was still awake, staring at the clock, willing morning to come so I could get the hell out of here.

"Val, I know you're in there. We need to talk." It was Matt.

Maybe if I ignored him he'd go away?

"Val, pleeeease," he implored me in that oh-so-familiar tone. The tone that was so bloody hard to resist. Like when he'd asked if I minded throwing his laundry in with mine and doing it for him because he was so busy at work. Or when he'd asked if he could borrow my car, because his was in for a service, and I'd said yes and cancelled a coffee with my friends.

But not this time. "No," I finally managed feebly, sounding unsure of myself. Which I was. "NO!" I said it again, a little louder and firmer this time, but still not quite convinced.

"Please," he whined into the door, and I couldn't help it, but I moved closer. I waddled all the way up to the door—it was hard to bend my bloody, scraped knees—and rested my head against it. I could see the shadows of his feet under the door and I could hear his breathing.He was so close...yet he was so, so very far away.

"I can hear you," he whispered against the door in that other familiar tone. It was that playful voice, with the lilting quality to it that always made it sound a little flirty. This was the tone that had perpetually fueled my hopes these three years, like petrol to a fire. It was the tone that had me riding a relentless emotional roller-coaster that I was now so dizzy and exhausted from.

"I can't," I whispered back. I heard him sigh. Something about his sigh pissed me off. Why would he be sighing? Shouldn't all the signing and huffing and puffing be reserved for me?

"I need to talk to you," he continued. And because, clearly, I wasn't quite through embarrassing myself for one evening, I opened my mouth.

"Need? Ha! Well, I've needed a lot of things too and I haven't gotten any of them. Now have I? We all need things, Matt. Everyone fucking needs things, don't they?" As soon as I'd finished the sentence, I regretted saying it. There was no need to add any more drama to this already overly-dramatic situation.

Another sigh from him. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to say to you. I don't know how to make this better."

"You can't make it better." My voice quivered and tears began to sting my eyes. "Where's Sam?" I suddenly asked.

He paused for the longest time before speaking. "I waited until she was asleep."

God, he sounded guilty as hell. Like the husband who comes home late after work because he's been in an "emergency meeting"(Miss Scarlet, in the boardroom with a whip).

"Aaah... I see." The guilt in his voice made me feel cheap and dirty. Like I was his slutty Miss Scarlet on the side. This wasn't the first time I'd felt like this way either. There'd been many a night when Sam had been working late and we'd hung out together and phrases like "please don't tell her we went out, she thinks I'm at home working"were thrown around.

"Please leave," I said. There was a long pause and I waited with anticipation for his answer. Truthfully, there was still this part of me that was hanging he might barge through the door at any moment, take me in his arms and tell me what a mistake he'd made with Sam. We'd fall into each other's arms and kiss and then make love all night long.

God, I hated that part of myself and I wondered if it was possibleto kill it off somehow?

"I understand if you don't want to talk to me, but at least open the door so I can give you your shoe. You left it on the driveway."

Shit! And under normal circumstance I might have just told him to keep it, but the things had cost a bloody fortune. "Leave it outside," I said.

"Okay," he replied feebly.

I pressed my ear to the door, waiting for the sounds of his footsteps, and when I was confident that he was no longer there, I opened the door and looked down. My one fancy shoe was on the floor and the irony of this moment did not escape me.

This was my Cinderella slipper, delivered by Prince Charming himself. Only, this prince wasn't mine. His heart belonged to someone else. The problem was that he was in possession of my heart, and I had no idea how to go about getting it back.

[#]

DIARY ENTRY

4 March

Dear Diary,

Matt has asked me around to his place today to watch the rugby and drink beer! And it's just going to be the two of us. We've seen each other almost every day this week, either in the lift, walking past each other in the corridor, or having a conversation in the parking lot. I think he likes me, I mean, why else would he be inviting me to his place tonight? Alone. I have to get ready.

More laters...

4 March (later)

Dear Diary,

Okay, quick update, nothing happened. But he did hug me goodbye and I'm sure the hug lingered for a few seconds longer than it should have. Maybe my friends are right, maybe he's just shy around me because he does remember the kiss but doesn't know how to broach the subject?

More laters (hopefully!)