You’d think you’d never had sex before, my reflection scathingly pointed out when I cleared a space in the steamed-up bathroom mirror to comb my hair.
I smiled into the glass. It kind of feels like I haven’t, or that I’ve spent the last fifteen years not doing it right.
I looked younger and fresher now the previous night’s make-up had been washed away and with my hair hanging in a damp cloak down my back. There was mascara and lip gloss in my bag, but I didn’t apply them. I couldn’t remember ever wanting someone to see the real me, know the real me, the way I did with him.
With the towel wrapped around me like a sarong, I padded back into Rhys’s bedroom and headed for the chest of drawers to borrow something to wear. I let the towel drop to my ankles as I reached for a pale blue t-shirt that looked large enough for me to wear as a dress. The fabric was soft and loose-fitting, and I burrowed my face into its folds, hoping to catch a trace of its owner, but all I could smell was fabric conditioner. My underwear was still scattered somewhere I’d yet to discover, so I slipped the t-shirt on without it. It hung loosely on me and threatened to slip off my shoulder every time I moved, but at least it covered everything that needed covering.
I made my way to the kitchen with the intention of making a much-needed cup of coffee. I’d already opened three wrong cabinets and was no closer to finding where he kept the coffee or mugs when I heard the sound of a key in the front door.
I glanced at the kitchen clock – Rhys had made it back faster than expected. The idea that perhaps he’d wanted to hurry back to me made me smile. It also made me reckless. With a mischievous smile, I went to pull the t-shirt off, already imagining his look of surprise when he found me naked in his kitchen. I don’t know what instinct stopped me at the last moment, but I’m eternally grateful for it.
The lightness of the tread gave me a millisecond of warning, but not enough to wipe the look of shock off my face.
‘Who the hell are you?’ demanded the woman glaring at me.
It was a question I had no need to ask her. Standing before me was Rhys’s very beautiful and very angry-looking ex, dangling a set of door keys from her fingers.
In that second every tender memory from the previous night was swept away. Annalise was glaring furiously at the interloper who was standing in what I was suddenly afraid was her kitchen. Had he lied to me about going back to her? People talk about the bottom falling out of their world and it had always sounded overly dramatic, but that is exactly what it felt like as her icy blue eyes raked me from head to bare feet.
Told you he was too good to be true, crowed Old Ellie, whose presence in my head was almost as unwelcome as Annalise’s was in the kitchen.
The photographs I’d seen of her hadn’t done her justice, and it threw me totally when she said the same of me.
‘You’re prettier in real life than I thought you’d be.’ The way she said the words told me no thank you was required. It wasn’t a compliment. ‘So, you’re Ally,’ she said, her voice still glacial.
I almost didn’t correct her. ‘Ellie, actually.’ I cleared my throat uncomfortably. ‘I can explain...’
She dropped the door keys on the worktop and leant back against it as though this wasn’t the most awkward encounter in the world.
‘Go on then. This should be interesting.’
‘Look, I’m sorry. I never would have . . . It was never my intention to . . . I didn’t know that . . .’
Her pretty mouth twisted in a sneer at my inability to finish a sentence.
‘English not your first language?’ She was like a sniper, picking off easy prey.
‘I wouldn’t be here if I’d known for a moment that you and Rhys were still—’
‘I can’t find it anywhere, Mummy.’
It felt like a scene in a farce as yet another member of Rhys’s family rushed into the kitchen. But this one I knew.
‘Ellie,’ cried Tasha with delight, barrelling straight into the toxic situation with blissful innocence.
It certainly didn’t help when she ran straight past her mother and launched herself at me, flinging her spindly arms around my waist. Instinctively I hugged her back, which earned me the deadliest stare yet from her mother. If looks could kill, I should be booking the plot alongside my mother.
‘You’ve met my daughter? Rhys actually did that?’ Annalise sounded incredulous.
‘It wasn’t planned. We accidentally bumped into each other in the park,’ I told her, not sure if anything I said could make this conversation any better.
‘And then we went for ice creams,’ added Tasha, which succeeded in making things a great deal worse.
‘We have rules about that,’ Annalise said, each word dipped in fury.
I frowned. Something wasn’t adding up here. If Rhys and Annalise were back together, why weren’t any of her clothes in his bedroom, or toiletries in the bathroom? Relief hit me like a hurricane as I realised I’d jumped to the wrong conclusion, something she must surely have known. She just hadn’t chosen to correct me.
‘You don’t live here, do you? You and Rhys aren’t back together.’ It was a statement rather than a question.