George changed.
Carla doesn't know when it happened, how or even where, but he has. He's not the same man she fell in love with five years ago.
Lando's the one who noticed first, the thought whispered to her when George had plucked the wine out of...
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"Cheers." I huff jumping in the car beside George. He only had to glance at his watch as I slap his arm in thanks to tell me I'm late - not that it's not to be expected. He should've known I would be. I tried to be on time, but then the lift was slow down to the lobby of the hotel and some fans wanted pictures and who am I to say no? Especially to the one young boy who had my name printed on the back of his papaya branded top, beaming up at me on a daze which almost had me feeling shy.
Before any of that Mum had called, apparently she'd seen that some celebrity she liked was planning to here this weekend and asked me to try and get a photo with them. It was an unusual request from her, but for Mum I'll do it. Truthfully, my tardiness is all down to my sister Amber who an hour and a half ago appeared at my hotel room door demanding to borrow my shampoo, having left her own behind at home, or Daniel's home, or somewhere. That's who I can blame for my poor time keeping today. It's not on me (I suppose it never is).
George huffs from beside me after another minute, the two of us pulling onto a short stretch of freeway towards the golf course where Alex is due to meet us, along with Lily and Carlos. I can't believe the guy in control of the vehicle is joining us honestly, golf has never been his thing. He always pulls faces whenever Alex or I suggest it, or back out with excuses on the days he doesn't straight up declare it's 'not his thing'. Instead George usually attempts to pull us on hikes or bike rides. With Alex's girlfriend Lily doing what she does, he stands no chance now.
Golf it is.
"What's wrong with you?" I ask after he huffs again, following the satnav's instructions towards the golf club. It's not a long ride there, we've only got eight minutes to our arrival according to the sat nav built into the vehicle. With George's current attitude it's eight minutes too long. "You sound like you've got a breathing condition mate." I attempt a joke, it doesn't land, nor get much of a response from George, I'm just left smiling to myself looking out the window, letting the sun blind me a little. I'm suddenly reminded that I've left my sunglasses in my backpack in the hotel room. Thank god for the cap tucked into the back pocket of my golf bag. It's the only thing that will stope from being blinded by the Florida sun.
"Nothing." George grumbles eventually and I roll my eyes at him.
Getting information out of George lately has been like pulling teeth.
Deciding that, for once, I'm not going to fish for information from the man beside me, who I consider a close friend, I pull my phone out of my pocket. I'm mid text to Alex, informing him of our arrival time (and George's grumbling) when George sighs from beside me. Almost in defeat.
"It's Carla." George finally reveals his shoulders slumping as he turns around a corner. The answer takes me back.
Carla and George have been together for almost five years.
