Is that guy your boyfriend?
Justin has always been incredibly supportive, and ignoring his call for the first time felt like I was betraying that trust. The guilt I felt tugged at my mind, growing heavier each time I glanced at my phone, lighting up insistently. And yet, there I was, sitting at a bar with Paul, a part of me quietly questioning what I was doing here, wondering if it was right. Being there, with Justin on my mind, made it feel like I was already committed to him, in some unspeakable way. How could I explain that, though? That was why, despite my decision to leave, guilt gnawed at me for abandoning Paul so abruptly.
I had hoped to slip away unnoticed, but Paul, noticing my movement, followed close behind, his face a mix of confusion and concern. He reached for my hand, attempting to hold it. I knew he meant well, but it only made things more complicated.
"What did I do?" His voice, a little too loud in the quiet space outside the bar, was softer, almost sober this time.
I looked at him, feeling a twinge of sympathy, and shook my head. "Nothing! I just needed to go home," I replied, pulling my hand back. As if fate had orchestrated it, a white taxi pulled up in front of the bar at that very moment. I stepped toward it, grateful for the convenient escape.
"I’ll give you a call," I said to Paul before slipping into the backseat of the cab. His expression softened, yet he still looked puzzled. I felt a little pang of guilt as I watched him step back, not knowing why I had to leave. My phone vibrated once more—Justin, for the third time that night. I couldn’t bear to keep ignoring him, so I finally answered.
"Hello, my darling!" The words spilled out without thought, like they had been waiting to be released, carrying a warmth that surprised even me. I imagined him pausing, surprised by the pet name. There was a moment of silence, just long enough for me to wonder if I had said the wrong thing.
"Where are you?" he asked, his voice lower than usual, like he was holding something back.
"I'm on my way to your hotel," I replied, eager to close the distance, to see him and find some clarity.
He chuckled, breaking the tension. "How do you know the address of my hotel?" He sounded amused, and it was then that I realized he’d never actually told me the address.
"I just had a hunch," I replied, trying to sound mysterious but probably failing. "Should I turn back, or should I keep coming? I'm at your command."
"Who wouldn’t want to taste honey?" he teased, his voice a blend of humor and something softer. My cheeks flushed, and I hoped he couldn’t hear the hitch in my breath.
"Then send me the address," I said with a smile, feeling lighter already, "because I’m in the middle of nowhere, searching for you."
After a few moments, the taxi began to head toward my house, but a soft notification chime stopped me. I glanced at my phone to find a message from Justin with his hotel’s address. Showing it to the taxi driver, we changed direction, setting course for Justin. I leaned back, looking out the window as city lights flickered by, my thoughts racing. Would he be happy to see me, or was there something else beneath his calm words tonight? Did my words mean as much to him as his meant to me?
The streets seemed to blur into one long ribbon of light until, finally, the taxi pulled up to a grand hotel. It stood tall and elegant, bathed in golden lights that reflected off its large glass windows. Water fountains danced gracefully outside the entrance, catching my attention for a moment before the weight of anticipation pushed me forward. I couldn’t help but wonder if Justin would be waiting by the door, or if I would surprise him by coming to him instead.
With my phone in hand, I called him as I entered the lobby, putting on a softer tone. "My darling," I said, "I’m already in the hotel."
There was a pause before he replied, his voice warm. "Okay, wait at the hotel bar on the ground floor. I'm coming to meet you."
I hesitated, not wanting the formality of the bar. "No, don’t bother. Just tell me your room number, and I’ll come to you," I insisted, not wanting any lingering looks from others or to feel exposed.
"If that's the case, come to room number 32." I was already on the first floor, so I thanked him and ended the call. Finding the nearest receptionist—a young woman in a crisp white dress with a red bow tie—I asked for directions.
"Good evening, ma’am," she said, smiling politely. "To get to room 32, head up to the second floor, turn right, and you'll find it after the first three rooms."
"Thank you," I said, heading up the stairs, even though taking the elevator would have been faster. Each step up the staircase gave me a moment to collect myself, steady my breathing, calm my swirling thoughts. I ran my fingers along the handrail, feeling the cool metal under my fingertips, grounding myself in the sensation. I wanted to seem confident, collected—but as I reached the door marked "32," I felt the familiar flutter of nerves rise within me.
I knocked softly, and when Justin opened the door, his gaze lingered on me, searching. I stepped inside, but he didn’t close the door right away. I felt the weight of his scrutiny, a slight disappointment flickering across his face, and it left me feeling uncertain, exposed.
He guided me to a chair, his hand gently resting on my shoulder, but I waited for him to speak first.
"Is Paul your ex-boyfriend?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly gentle.
"No," I replied, focusing on the floor.
"Is he your new boyfriend?" The question was quiet, almost like he didn’t want to know the answer.
"No."
"Then who is he, Sadie?" His voice broke through the stillness, soft but piercing. "Why are you hiding him from me? I saw him with you alone at your house, and then at the bar tonight. Why didn’t you tell me?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Sadie, I’m in love with you. I can’t imagine my life without you. Give me a chance—let me be your man."
My heart tightened at his words. I’d dreamed of hearing them, but now that they hung in the air, I could barely breathe. "I love you too, Justin," I whispered, "but there are things I can’t explain. There are reasons you might not understand." Saying the words hurt, like tearing open a wound I’d kept hidden.
"Please, Justin," I pleaded, my voice faltering, "you once said that if you love someone, you let them go for their own good."
He studied me, his eyes clouded. "Sadie, did you really want to leave me?"
I wanted to say no, but my lips wouldn’t move. Tears gathered in my eyes, and I struggled to hold them back.
"I don’t want to let you go, Sadie," he murmured, reaching out to brush a tear from my cheek. "But if you think Paul can make you happier, I won’t stand in your way. Just know that I’ll be leaving tomorrow. If you want to come with me, call me in the morning." He glanced at his watch, a reminder of the time slipping away.
My phone rang, shattering the silence. I checked the screen, feeling the weight of my mother’s call.
"Who's calling?" he asked, his voice tired, almost resigned.
"It’s my mum," I showed him the screen.
"Answer it," he said softly.
I picked up the call, hoping to sound normal. "Hi, Mum," I said, barely managing to keep my voice steady.
"Sadie, are you still out? It’s late," her voice came through, concerned. "Are you with Paul?"
I glanced at Justin, his face unreadable. He nodded, encouraging me to respond.
"Yes, Mum. I’ll be home soon," I replied.
Ending the call, I looked up to find Justin watching me. Without a word, he stepped forward, pulling me into a firm embrace. I felt his heartbeat, steady and warm against my own, and it was all I could do to hold back my tears.
"I’ll drive you home," he said, guiding me outside. The ride was quiet, our last moments together heavy with unspoken words. As we reached my house, I paused, not wanting to say goodbye, not wanting him to see my tears. I walked to my front door, swallowing the lump in my throat.
"Mum…" I whispered as she opened the door, trying to smile through the ache in my heart.
She noticed, her eyes flicking toward the car leaving the driveway. "Who was that, Sadie?"
But I couldn’t answer. All I could do was stare, as the car and the man I loved disappeared into the night.
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