I added the true love part, andje ne regrette rien.
By the time I arrived in the city and shouted at him about never giving love a chance, he was alreadyninety-nine point nine per cent of the way there.
Oh, but I’m still going to make a speech at the wedding and tell everyone their relationship is down to me.
Anyway, I’m genuinely thrilled, and can’t wait to see the twoof them together properly at long last.
I’m bouncing on the spot as I scan the hotel bar and spot them sitting in a corner booth. They are holding hands in that casual way people who have been touchingnon-stop for days at a time tend to do. It takes me a moment to register the third, random person sitting there in the booth with them, and as I get closer I stop and fully gasp in themiddle of the room.
They hear me – apparently I gasp loudly – and all four of us stare at each other from across the room, unblinking.
Shut up.
It is not.
What the fuck. What isGOING ON?
What the fuck is hedoinghere? It is him, isn’t it?
This can’t actually be real? How is he ...?
Mark half smiles at me and I can tell he is as baffled as I am.
I slowly makemy way over to their booth, but don’t sit down.
‘What on earth are you doing here?’ I say, and my voice doesn’t sound like my own.
‘I came to see you,’ he says simply.
It’s Uber driver Dom and I do not understand how it’s him on any level.
‘What?’ I say dumbly and he gestures at me to sit down.
‘Hello,’ he smiles and after another long moment of silence, he adds, ‘OK, don’tfreak out, I haven’t gone full stalker. I have a friend’s wedding in Sydney but I probably wouldn’t have accepted the invite if not for you. I saw you tagged into this hotel on Instagram, so assumed you were staying here.’
I flop heavily into the booth, no clue what to say as he continues, ‘I spotted your brother here in the bar, I recognised him from your pictures. So I came over and introducedmyself.’
‘I can’t believe you’re actually here,’ I say dumbly. This is so weird. My head is spinning. What is going on? First a message from Noah asking me out, then Dom is here, out of nowhere.
Am I ... am I secretly a fucking goddess? Guys, I think that must be it.
Or, wait ... it’s way more likely he’s got a terribleSTDand wants to tell meface-to-face. What would be the worstone to have? Gonorrhoea? That’s the one that’s popular with footballers, right? I don’t know what it does but it’s a fucker to spell, so it must have some terrible symptoms.
‘Hello you,’ Joe interrupts my shock, jumping up and giving me a long hug. He pulls me closer and whispers in my ear protectively, ‘Is he nuts? Want me to escort him out?’
‘Um, maybe?’ I murmur back, still not surewhat to think. ‘Give him five minutes and then we’ll reassess.’ He starts to pull away and I grip him closer again. ‘It’s really good to see you, Joe,’ I add, my voice thick with emotion. I haven’t forgotten why I’m here. He gives me an acknowledging squeeze. I can feel his happiness radiating off him. He deserves this more than anyone.
I clear my throat as I slide into the booth beside Dom,no idea what to do next. To his credit, Dom does look uncomfortable. Like he regrets making an impulsive and bizarre decision without thinking it through.
The thing is, I did actually hear from him a couple of times after he had that tantrum on the rollercoaster and stormed off like a child. We actually settled things, we left it ongood-ish terms. He said he was sorry for his jealousrage and I told him it sucked but it wasOK. Then he’d said something about wanting to see me again before I leftLAand I pointed out that I’d alreadylong-since leftLA. I also reminded him that, fun as it was spending time with him, it was only ever meant to be ashort-term thing and that it was best to draw a line under it now. We could be pals on Facebook or whatever – and then never speakagain, like every other person in the world who’s had a holiday fling.
And I meant it. So I’m not sure what he’s doing here now.
‘Shall I get us some drinks?’ I say into the awkward silence.
Mark nods and Dom pipes up, ‘I’ll come with you.’
We wander towards the bar and I half automatically reach for the keys in my handbag. Just in case. Because maybe I’ve misjudged the fuck outof this dude. Maybe he’s actually insane? You never really know someone, do you? You always see these wives on telly being like, ‘I had no clue my husband was holdingseventy-two women captive in our basement, I thought it was cats down there and the excessive electricity bill was because of our outdoor heater.’
