note: update two of the day! The next update will be on Thursday/Friday and I'll keep to my promise this time because these *bleep* exams won't be in the way.
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The arsehole refused to leave her mind and when she spotted him, clearly drunk, at the restaurant she worked at, she almost thought that she'd conjured him to life.
London sighed. If she hadn't agreed to cover her friend's shift perhaps she'd be safe from the humiliation of having to face him again but there was no way she was going to walk out of here without him noticing. But he did look to be highly invested in his wine so there was a possibility he wouldn't catch her exiting the restaurant. However, London thought that unlikely.
She hung up her apron, bidding the head chef goodnight before waving to Poppy and Amelia, two waitresses that she was good friends with. She went straight to Andrew Cai after she bid everyone adieu, the last of the customers stirring out of the restaurant as closing hours dawned upon them.
"Are you stalking me, Andrew Cai?" was the only greeting that she could think of.
His response was a low, gravelly laugh. "Fuck, I'm so drunk, I'm seeing things."
Rolling her eyes, she removed the hand that was poised at her hip and ended up taking the seat opposite to his. "You should go home, Andrew," she advised, "I'm not really in the mood to see your face and we're about to close so please make our jobs easier and just leave."
"How rude," he commented, his lips pulling up into a smile and damn her for letting her eyes be momentarily enraptured by those damn lips, pulled up into a toothy grin, his teeth shining through.
"I'll get you a cab, I'll even pay for it," she offered. She was not in the mood. She was exhausted and tired, and dealing with Andrew Cai — again — was not in her plans.
"I'm offended, just London." His grin said otherwise. "Aren't you supposed to be hospitable to your customers?"
"You stop being a customer in exactly—" she glanced at her watch, her sharp tongue working with her anger "—four minutes. So let me call you a cab. I doubt we need to see each other again."
"But what if it's meant to be, London," he said, his hand finally setting down the glass, his wedding ring glinting under the lighting, and leaning his forearms against the table. Fuck. His blazer was draped on the back of his chair, the sleeves of his now white crinkled shirt were rolled up and to say he looked hot was an understatement. Hot men never flustered London, not until they started being nice to her only to break the news to her that they were freaking married.
Married.
The word echoed in her mind and just like that she collected herself, pushing the attraction to the back of her mind as she told herself that it was easy to switch it off.
She leaned against the table, their faces now close and her lips pulled up into a lazy smile of its own. "Normally I wouldn't mind cute, harmless flirtations. God knows I don't get it much. But this isn't harmless, is it? You're married."
He laughed, so loud and so boisterously that her cheeks flushed and she looked around to see if his laughter gained any attention. "I wish," he scoffed, reaching for the bottle to pour the last of the wine into the glass. "My marriage is non existent right now."
London grabbed the glass and leaned back on her chair. "I get that you're going through something difficult—"
"You don't get shit," he said, and this time the smile that touched his lips actually made her heart break. He looked so lost, so heartbroken and so devastated. There was so much sadness in his smile, in those dark eyes that twinkled with sorrow. "My marriage is falling apart and I've been stupid to be avoiding the main problems for years. It's my fault really. It's why she cheated. It's why I've been having second thoughts for quite some time now. But now my life is in shambles. My wife is gone and I possibly may lose my daughter, so yes, I understand your need to stay away from me and why you don't want to get caught up in the drama. But don't you dare tell me that you get what I'm going through."
His face was flushed, his cheeks rosy and his eyes were wide. The smile was nowhere to be seen.
"It's called being empathetic, darling," London said, her voice gentle. "I understand that what you're going through is difficult though I personally haven't endured something like it."
"Right," he muttered, casting his eyes away and down to the bottle. "Empathy. A lot of people lack that."
Was it pity that made her stand up and offer him her hand or was in genuine care? He was still but a stranger to her and yet, with those tiny charming smiles, she found she did mind that he was drowning himself in what was clearly self-loathe.
"Come on," she said softly.
"Where to?"
"Come on," she repeated and reluctantly, he got up and grabbed his blazer. She needed to get him home.
"Where are we going?" he asked again, bumping into her every other second as she helped him exit the restaurant.
She knew he was drunk which was why she tried her best to bite back her tongue but him bumping into her wasn't really helping her hold her phone properly and her patience was already thinning. "Can you hold still for one second?" she snapped. "God, you're so pissed."
Andrew smiled at her. "Are you always grumpy?" he asked before he leaned his big frame into hers and poked her cheek with his finger. His weight on her caused her to stumble and she almost lost grip on her phone.
"Where do you live?" she asked, trying her best not to snap the words at him this time.
"I thought you weren't interested," he said in lieu of an answer, holding up his right hand. The gold ring was hard to miss and so was his rather charming smile.
"You need to get home."
The smile was quick to vanish and the frown that set into his thin lips made London feel stupid for asking the question. He was in the process of a divorce and perhaps he didn't want to go home because his wife would be there. Or maybe he was ashamed of having to live in hotels till the divorce was finalised.
"Home," Andrew mused, the smile returning back to his lips but this smile made her feel unpleasant for the way his expression was set told her that he was either feeling extremely bitter or angry. "Where is home? With my wife and kid, and the man she was fucking behind my back? Or in my parents' basement, the only two people who feel obligated to offer me a place to stay and thinking that this gave them to the right to say shit about my whole situation?"
He cackled and London truthfully wanted to minus herself from this equation. She had a lot on her plate and adding a drunk man who had complex life problems was in no way going to help her.
"That's a good question, London," he said, his grin wide and yet so sad. "Where is home?"
"What's your parent's address?" she asked quickly, moving away from him so that she was no longer his support.
He staggered, catching his footing a second later. "And here I thought you cared," he commented, shaking his head.
"I care about you getting home safe."
"Safe." he echoed before placing his right hand above his heart. The streetlight bounced off his wedding band ring. "My heart's not safe, London, with my wife or my parents. The only person who loves me is my daughter but I think I'm fucking that up too."
"Yeah? Well, do something about it," London snapped. All her patience had run out. "Do you want me to book you an Uber back to your parents' place or not?"
"My car's over there," he said, pointing in the direction that had many cars parked by the curb.
When she raised her eyebrows impatiently he sighed.
"I don't want to go there," he protested softly, his forced smile dimming.
"All right," she sighed, turning back to her phone. She booked herself an Uber and waited a few minutes for her ride to arrive. Those few minutes felt like the longest minutes of her life. She contemplated taking him home because she couldn't leave him out here, drunk and alone, but he was a stranger, someone she barely knew, and trusting him into her home could only do her more harm than good.
Her Uber arrived and she turned towards him, her thoughts still fighting against each other. "Goodnight, Andrew," she finally said, "Take care."
He nodded, tucking his hands into his pocket and slightly swaying in sync with the windy night. "You too, London," he smiled, his eyes catching hers for a moment, a moment where all else fell away to give room for something even words could not encompass.
It was hard to fight off a smile. London's lips found themselves lifting up on their own accord. Offering him an awkward little wave, she climbed into the car, but not before she caught a glimpse of his side profile.
An entirely different smile played on the tips of his lips.