Currents

Thirty-one ~ Reality

Thirty-one ~ Reality

Being back in London was like waking up from a three-month-long dream, only rather than a relief that I'd returned to reality, I wanted to fall asleep again, desperate for the dream to continue.

Everything looked so familiar, yet I felt lost.

The cafe walls—despite the beautiful decorations—prompted an unfamiliar sense of claustrophobia. My thigh-high boots suffocated my legs, and my cashmere jumper failed to provide anywhere near as much warmth as the North Carolina sun. I might have sat in this same chair one hundred times before, but that didn't ease my discomfort.

"Hey."

Alastair bent to place a chaste kiss to my cheek before sitting down opposite me. I forced a smile as he removed his jacket and hooked it over the seat beside him, straightening his tie and then running a hand through his hair.

"You look great, Rosa. Seriously."

"You don't look so bad yourself," I replied automatically, my fingers cradling the steaming mug of coffee in front of me.

Dressed in a pristine suit, without a crease in sight, he did look good. Unfortunately, it didn't ease the anxiety that cloaked my thoughts.

With a subtle nod of his head, Alastair summoned a staff member who asked if he wanted his usual. A stark reminder of the sheer power he possessed in this tight-knit corner of London.

"So, how have you been?" I lifted my mug to my lips. Although too hot to drink, sitting still and doing nothing seemed far too intense.

Alastair shrugged. "Work's busy. I've not had much time off but I'm thankful of that, to be honest; it's kept me occupied."

"Are you looking forward to your birthday?"

He sighed before answering. "I guess so. I just hope it all goes smoothly."

The waiter placed his macchiato in front of him and he smiled in gratitude. It had arrived staggeringly quickly considering how busy the cafe was, no doubt further proof that he received special treatment.

"You're still coming, aren't you?"

Lifting my eyes away from his drink, I met his concerned gaze. "Of course," I said, before adding, "I've bought a dress, so it'd be a shame to waste it."

He chuckled, shoulders losing their tension. When we began to discuss colours so he could match his tie, a recollection of the same conversation I'd had with Brent stabbed at my heart, the pain travelling through my organs and settling in my stomach. My mouth responded to Alastair's questions and my eyes remained on his, but my mind was now three thousand miles away.

~~~

Knowing I couldn't avoid the inevitable for long and determined to regain some control within the friendship group, I sent out a message organising drinks.

It would do little to curb my loneliness given that I had no genuine desire to hang out with my fake friends, so I started obsessing over Mia's visit and we Skyped at the first opportunity to arrange a flight.

When I asked about Brent, she told me he hadn't said much about the whole situation.

"You know what he's like. He suffers in silence."

"I'm just gutted I didn't fuck him when I had the chance." I sighed in remorse.

"Why didn't you, then?"

"We agreed it would've made things more intense, and I feel like I've messed him around enough."

"Huh," she said, holding the dark passport up in front of her face as she copied the information into the website. "Was he a good kisser?"