inevitable

Chapter One

She stared over at him across the ballroom, dancing with one of the interns. The ball was being held in New York, to celebrate the end of another successful year at the organisation they both worked for. She'd already done her schmoozing for the evening, and now it was her turn to relax and enjoy the night. But how could she relax, when all she could think about was him?

It's insane really. The way that her life seems to be intertwined with his. That no matter how many different cities that the both of them travel to, their paths still inevitably manage to cross. She doesn't know if it's destiny, or just bad luck that keeps him in her life. She had realised a while ago that as much as she cared for him, there was nothing they could do to make it work between them. They were both obsessed with their careers, and neither would be willing to give it up. Not for anything.

They were both too proud and stubborn.

Though, funnily enough, that was what had drawn her to him, all those years ago when they had met. He was the only person that had ever dared to offer a different opinion to her own, the only one determined enough to challenge her views. And God, did she love a challenge.

Everyone thought that their relationship was full of constant arguments and fights, but it wasn't true. They challenged each other, debating loudly and passionately trying to get the other to see their side. She was kept on her toes in a way no one had ever been able to before. Her interest in other relationships with people had waned over the years, no one able to keep her interest piqued for long. No one she could see herself willing to commit to long term.

Until him.

It had become a bit of a tradition for them the last few years, whenever they were both in the same city, to meet up with the other and take the time to re-memorise every inch of each other. Not that it was easy for her to forget him, no matter how much time had passed. It seemed to her however that he was wanting to forgo their tradition tonight, if his hanging around a bubbly intern all night was anything to go by.

It was overwhelmingly obvious how enamoured the intern was with him. The girl kept leaning forward, placing her hand on his forearm and giggling. But who could blame her really? It's not like she was any better at staying away from him. How could you resist his dark blonde hair, usually unstyled with his curls messy, but was tonight slicked back with a modest amount of gel, giving him an air of sophistication. His tan skin that was slightly darker at the moment from his recent work on a project in the Maldives. His lean but solid physique, with firm muscles that could definitely support a person as he lifted them and held them against a wall (it was not important how exactly she knew this...).

This was not how she expected her night to go at all, to be perfectly honest. Hours earlier, after spotting him across the room, she had resigned herself to the fact that she'd be going home with him tonight. Even if it meant she would have to go through the emotional turmoil of having to get over him again for the months after.

Every time it was the same dance. They'd cross paths somewhere in the field and fall back into their habit of verbal sparring, laced with undertones of sexual tension, while trying their best to try and remain some semblance of control while in their work environment. But all control would be lost soon after, as one of them ended up in the other's hotel room, both tangled up in the sheets for hours to come, making up for lost time. And then pretending like they didn't care when their paths led them seperate ways, away from each other.

And in the beginning she would try and convince herself she didn't care about him. He was just an old friend that was satisfying her physical needs. But as time went on, she realised he fulfilled her as much as emotionally as he did physically. It then became harder and harder to leave him each time. When their paths did cross, she would try and stay away from him to save herself the pain. But she couldn't sustain this, and she would inevitably succumb to his advances. He couldn't promise her forever. And she didn't expect him to, no matter how much she craved it. So each time they parted she would be an emotional wreck, having to rebuild herself back every time.

But just as she would return to normalcy, he'd be back in her life. And she let herself break again, because the inevitable pain was worth it, she told herself, just for that single moment where she could be with him.

It wasn't healthy in the slightest, but when you cared for someone as much as she did he, you took whatever that person was willing to offer. She knew that they would be able to make it to work if they really tried. She could stop chasing promotions and accompany him throughout his projects as he moved from city to city. She loved her job and her freedom too much though, and could never justify to herself or anyone else giving that up. Not even for him.

(He logistically would be able to stay in New York with her for extended periods of time if he really tried. But she's too scared to ask, too scared of what his answer would be. She's invested so much emotionally in him that she's not sure she'd be able to take such outright rejection. She's better living in this fantasy. The one time she tried to broach the subject years ago, he brushed it off as a joke and she was too scared to push it further).

Her plans for the night evidently cleared, she stalked over to the bar. There was more than one way to have a good night after all, and getting blindingly drunk for free was definitely one of them. Sitting down on the barstool, nursing her champagne, she glanced over at the dance floor again. She considered some of the men out there, wondering which of them she could go out and flirt with to show him just how unbothered she was. If he was content with an intern as his entertainment on the night they both finally crossed paths for the first time in months, she was just as capable of getting with another guy. It also wouldn't be the first time that she had used men as means of distracting herself from feeling too much. As she weighed up the pros and cons of each of the men at the event and her chances of each, she felt a whisper in her ear.

"Since when do you drink champagne?"