Currents

Ten ~ Dedication

Ten ~ Dedication

Before Alastair cheated on me, I made some questionable choices of my own.

My parents used to send me to piano classes, and every night when leaving, I'd pass a boy making his way into the building. After a couple of months, we were so familiar with seeing one another that we'd stop and chat.

As my lessons progressed, I found myself more excited about bumping into my new friend than playing the piano. We started to meet up, first for coffee and then for dinner. Soon, we were spending entire days at each other's houses.

Alastair was aware of our blossoming relationship—he'd met Roman on several occasions—but he trusted me when I told him nothing had happened. As for my parents, the thought that I'd ever want to cheat on Alastair was inconceivable and they had no problem with the talented pianist spending time at our home.

We came from different backgrounds, but the piano brought us together. As we grew closer, he became a form of escapism for me. Whenever upset with Daisy or angry at Alastair, I'd rant to Roman and we'd laugh and joke until I'd cheered up.

He'd drag me around the dirtiest parts of his neighbourhood and claim he was opening my eyes to the real world. I'd take him out for meals at upmarket restaurants and claim I was introducing him to real food.

With Roman, I could be my authentic self. Our relationship pushed the boundaries of friendship, but we never crossed the line, no matter how close we came.

My romance with Alastair was losing its spark. His job occupied most of his day and took priority. At parties with our friends, he was still a loving boyfriend, but only because business wasn't on his mind. Through meeting up regularly with Roman, it became apparent that one boy had more time for me than the other. I began to resent Alastair for it, and one night I made a mistake that changed everything.

On his second work anniversary, Alastair's father gave him the opportunity to present the official launch of a new product. With it being an important evening, I was expected to join him.

Instead, though, I'd pretended to be unwell and had met with Roman. We'd planned to spend a couple of hours together in a pub until I headed back home, hopefully long before Alastair's unveiling finished.

It didn't quite go according to plan.

As Roman and I were leaving the tube station, a strong hand gripped my upper arm and pulled me down a deserted street. Despite the surprise, I'd recognised the hand instantly, the familiar aftershave provoking an unfamiliar sense of panic within me.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

In all the time I'd known him, I'd never seen Alastair so angry—his eyes wide with fury, his jaw clenched, and his fists balled. I'd opened my mouth to speak but found myself paralysed with shame, my response barely audible as the whisper left my lips.

"I'm sorry."

His eyes remained locked on me for a torturous amount of time before turning to Roman.

"Are you fucking my girlfriend?"

He might come from a rough patch of London, but Roman wasn't a tough guy. Alastair emitted power and authority. Tall, with broad shoulders and wearing his best suit, he'd intimidated my friend to the extent that Roman couldn't even look at him.

"No." Roman had focused his gaze on me instead. "Nothing like that has ever happened."

When Alastair took a threatening step towards him, I'd reached out to grab his hand. While it diverted his attention back to me, it had also angered him further. He'd thrown his hand in the air, dislodging my grip.