The New Girl

38.

Tom sat next to me but I turned my head towards Penny, listening into her conversation with Iain.

"Hey," Tom lay his hand on my thigh.

I reluctantly looked at him.

"What's wrong?" He asked, brows furrowed.

"Nothing." I shrugged, turning back to Penny.

"Cole," He squeezed my thigh tighter.

"What?" I snapped.

He scoffed lightly, "What's wrong?" He asked again.

"I don't want to talk about it." I whispered.

"Cole, just tell me!"

"It's just our last night together and you'd rather spend it chatting to people you hardly know than to spend time with me!" I whisper-shouted.

We flashed smiles to the waiter who placed Tom and I's food down. We thanked him before returning to our conversation.

"I would so much rather spend tonight with you but it's everyone's last night, too." Tom whispered back, taking the napkin from the table and laying it over his lap.

"We had a party at the start of the week and everyone said goodbye today. This party is just for the 'more important' people." I used quotation marks.

Tom clenched his jaw, "Yeah, well you are one of the 'important' people and that's why you're here." He whispered, his tone clearly frustrated.

"Do you see Mark's assistant anywhere? Do you see any assistants here apart from me? No? That's because I'm your girlfriend and if we weren't together you bet your ass I wouldn't be here right now."

Tom stared at me and opened his mouth then closed it before finally finding what to say, "Okay, maybe you are right. But you are here because you're important."

"No I'm not; I'm here because you are important and I'm your girlfriend."

"Can we stop fighting?"

"We're not fighting, we're having a discussion." I clenched my jaw.

"An angry discussion." Tom mumbled.

I sighed, "Why don't we just not talk, okay? You can chat to your so called friends and I shall make small talk with people I don't like until the evening has ended. Sound good?" I tilted my head.

Tom licked his teeth, looking at me in annoyance before shaking his head and turning away from me, picking up his knife and fork. I swallowed the lump in my throat and started eating the very aesthetically pleasing pasta in front of me.

***

Dinner was good. I had to admit.

But Tom and I still weren't talking and at the moment he was standing and chatting to Mark and the director, leaning against the door frame, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a bottle of beer. He laughed occasionally and nodded along to what they were talking about.

But I, on the other hand, was sitting alone on a chair in the dining room, watching everyone chat from here as the waiters and waitresses cleared up and a third glass of champagne was placed into my hands.

I was in a crappy mood. It wasn't hard to tell. So, no one came up to me - which I was glad about. I was angry that this was how we were spending our last hours together and we weren't even...together. And the haunting thought of leaving kept coming back and forth like the waves on a beach; each time, the feeling of dread and sadness getting more overwhelming.

I stared at a spot on the floor, only looking at that while my hand automatically lifted my drink to my lips like I was hardwired to do so and my foot tapped along to the familiar jazz music playing lightly in the background.

I was taken out of my trance by someone lightly tapping my foot with theirs. I looked up and of course...it was Tom.

"Hey." He said softly.

"Hi."

He pulled up a chair and sat next to me.

"I'm sorry that this is what we're doing tonight. I know you're not having the greatest time."

I scoffed a laugh and took another sip of my drink, refusing to look into his forgiving and gorgeous eyes in fear that I'd be trumped and wouldn't be able to act like a bitch anymore.

"I don't want to be in a row with you when we're both leaving tomorrow." He rested his hand on my knee and his thumb lightly rubbed my skin.

"Neither do I." I sighed, feeling my defeat coming towards me.

(PLAY NOW)

I gasped lightly at the sound of the song playing and finally looked at him, his eyes gleaming with an eventual grin that spread across his face.

"Did you-"

"It's fate, darling." He stood up and sat his drink on the table before holding out his hand for me to take.

"Would you like to dance with me?" He asked with a smile.

I sighed, "Yes. But I'm still mad." I clarified, taking his hand and standing up.

"Of course." He chuckled.

I gave him a slight smile for the first time since we got here as we got into a little space in between the dining room and the living room where we could dance. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he held me around my waist.

"So...is this our song, now?" Tom whispered.

I chuckled, "I guess so. If it's fate it must be."

Tom smiled at me and I sighed, leaning my head on his shoulder and letting my fingers play with the ends of his hair on the back of his head.

We swayed back and forth to the familiar music, both of us holding each other tightly, not wanting the moment to end, not wanting the night to end...

"I love you." He mumbled into my hair.

"I love you more." I uttered in his ear.

"I love you most."