I fold my arms across my chest, unsure as to whether I should feel flattered or offended at his words.
“But I’m going with my gut right now,” he continues. “And when all of that happened, when I caught sight of you earlier, something shifted inside me, and I didn’t want to do any of the things I usually do. All I knew was that I had to know you, and that’s not changed. Now that I’ve spoken to you, it’s not likely to change. So it looks like tonight is all about doing the things we don’t usually do, and for once in my life, I’m paying attention to the way all of me is reacting to all of you. And, not meaning to sound crass or course, instead of thinking with my dick, I’m going with my gut, and my gut is telling me something’s happening here. So, would you like another drink, yes or fucking no?”
“Vodka, lime, soda,” I tell him quietly, trying not to sway as my world tilts a little further on its axis.
“Don’t fucking move, I’ll be right back.” He kisses my cheek and leaves.
Struck speechless, I can do nothing but admire the view. The band’s cover of ‘Sweet Dreams are Made of These’, plays as I watch him move towards the bar, and I couldn’t agree with those sentiments more.
“Whatchya doing?” Jemma says from beside me, and I’m so lost in my thoughts, I almost hit the ceiling in fright.
“Shit,” I hiss out with my hand pressed against my chest. “I’ve no clue, Jem, no fucking clue. I should go. He’s nine years younger than me, I’ve known him five minutes, I’m married, about to be separated. . .”
“Stop! You need to stop with this nonsense right now.” Jem leans forward and gets all up in my face as I jerk my head back away from her.
“Stop with the overthinking. Let him hit on you, let him buy you drinks and give it all the chat. Then, at the end of the night, you go home. You go to bed remembering all the flattering bullshit that he’ll doubtless come up with. You remember that this God-like man-child spent the night trying to get into your knickers. You go to sleep dreaming about all the different ways that could’ve played out while that bastard of a husband of yours snores next to you. Then, when you wake up, you’ll pack your bags and get the fuck out of there and don’t look back. No harm done, just a big fat fuck you to the man who’s done nothing but shit all over the twenty-seven-years of your life that you’ve given him.”
I let out the breath I held on to the whole time she was talking, and my head spins.
“You’re my sensible friend. You’re supposed to talk me out of shit like this, not encourage me.”
“Exactly, I am your sensible friend, so trust me when I say you’re doing nothing wrong.”
She lets out a long slow breath as she looks at me, and it’s the look I’ve been dreading getting from anyone.
“Don’t, Jem, please don’t feel sorry for me. Not here, not tonight.”
“I just feel bad for not picking up on what was going on. I’m beyond pissed off you didn’t tell any of us.”
I shrug, I’m not going to apologise. It’s me it was happening to, I told them when I was ready, even now, I’m not sure if it’s too soon, if I maybe should’ve kept my mouth shut for longer and worked harder at trying to put things right with Jay.
“I’m probably gonna drink this and go. I’ve got a big day tomorrow and need to have my head on straight for it.”
“Fair enough, but do not stand here feeling guilty about getting attention from a hot as fuck thirty-odd-year-old because of your loyalty to a man who’s been putting his hands on you, in all the wrong ways, for months. Do not feel guilty about this, Lauren, not even a little bit.”
“Thanks.” I pull her in for a cuddle, still totally unconvinced as we stand at the side of the dance floor swaying.
“He’s on his way back, I’m gonna dance. Let us know when you’re ready to go.”
“Will do.”
I turn to see Gabe approaching as Jemma leaves. He hands me a drink with a smile.
“You didn’t run away then?”
“I thought about it, but the prospect of more vodka and giving you another serve kept my feet planted right here.”
“You know, if interior design doesn’t take back off for you, maybe you should consider stand-up comedy.” I flip him my middle finger, just as the sound of a sax or trumpet blasts out the beginning of ‘Geno’, and I know things are about to get messy.
“I apologise now and will totally understand if you want to disappear into the crowd and pretend we never met.”
He frowns in confusion as I hand him my drink, before being grabbed from behind and pulled into a circle with my friends. Jem’s arm hooks over one of my shoulders, Jo’s over the other as we dance and sing along. Geno ends but our song, our anthem replaces it. It’s the song we sing at the end of a drunken night together, the song we play down the phone to whichever one of us is missing from a night out. When we start singing this, our husbands know it’s time to take us home. That’s the way it’s always been, but now, it’s just the way it was.
The dynamics of our friendships will be forever changed by the fracture caused by the end of me and Jay. We take holidays together, spend Christmas, Easter, and other ‘family’ times together. We’re godparents to each other’s kids and are always there for birthday parties and special events, and all of that will be ending with the actions I plan on taking tomorrow.
When Lou and Jemma both start to cry, it hits me how much of a massive change is about to happen to my life.
Not even bothering to fight back my tears, I put one arm around Jemma’s waist, wave the other in the air, and sing at the top of my lungs to ‘Better be Home Soon’.
As the song ends, Jo appears in front of me. The least emotional of all of us, she places her palms on either side of my face.
“We will get you through this. Husbands come, and husbands go, but we will always have each other, and we will always have the music. I fucking love you bitches.”
Chapter 8
Gabe
“I pride myself on being comfortably in touch with my feminine side, but I swear to God I have no clue what makes women tick. I mean, seriously, what the fuck is going on right there?” Zac says into my ear as me, him, and Cooper watch Lauren and her mates cry, dance, laugh, and sing their way through at least four songs.
They squeeze each other’s faces between their palms and sing to each other. There have been kisses to cheeks and to mouths, hands linked, and arms raised. They’ve entertained the entire bar.
“She’s going through some shit, about to separate from her husband. I think she’s just feeling a bit emotional and letting off steam. You know women, if one cries, they all cry.”
“About to separate?” Cooper asks. “You mean she’s still with him?”
“I don’t know the whole back story, but the marriage is over, and she’s moving out tomorrow.”
“And you still wanna get involved, even with all that drama going on?” Zac asks.
My eyes on Lauren, I consider Zac’s question as she sings and throws her arms about to ‘Hotel California’.