Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
The man who I’ve driven insane along with me.
Because that’s what I do.
I create carnage. I fall in love, and it turns to shit, and then it spits me out again.
“I’m sorry,” I say, and it sounds so pathetic it’s embarrassing. “I, um, took up volunteering at the grotto because I got a thing for Reuben and I–”
Reuben holds up a hand. His eyes are full of pain.
“Stop, Tiff. It’s ok.”
But it’s not ok. It’s anything but fucking ok. It’s a disaster. A tragedy. A fucking nightmare.
“Leave us,” Reuben says. “The grotto is closed, Tiff.”
“But I–”
“Go,” he tells me, and he means it. He really does want me to leave.
That single word is a stab through the heart. I’m powerless. Open and vulnerable and such a fucking idiot. I should have known all along this would end in tears.
I manage to retreat before the tears do hit me. The people in the mall are a blurry mess as I try to dig my phone from my bag.
My fingers are shaking when I click on my contacts list.
Please.
Please answer.
Please, please, please fucking answer!
When I hear Josh’s voice, the sobs come rushing, threatening to eat me alive. I keep walking, blanking out everything as I focus on breathing. I step out onto the street into the winter chill, but I don’t feel it. I’m numb.
Numb and fucking terrified.
“Tiff?” Josh’s voice sounds so far away. “Tiff? Are you alright? Tiff?!”
“No,” I whimper, feeling like the biggest fucking idiot in the world. I hate myself.
I hate the way my stupid dreams have ripped the ground from under my feet.
“What’s happened?! Do you need help? I’m coming now. Just tell me where you are, and I’ll be there.”
I manage to hail a passing taxi and throw myself into the back seat.
“I’m in a cab. You don’t need to come,” I tell my best friend.
“Ok, but you need to come right here, right now, understand me? Straight to Belgravia and up to ours. No more excuses, Tiff. Just get here.”
“On my way,” I manage to say, and then let the tears fall.
26
TIFFANY
Ifall into Josh’s arms as soon as he opens his front door, relieved when he squeezes me tight and lets me cry against his chest.
“I fucked up,” I sob. “I fucked up so fucking bad.”
He doesn’t push me for words, just rocks me gently as my tears stream against his shirt, comforting me like he did when I last felt this kind of pain. When Kian gave his final goodbye, and I watched him walk away.
I don’t bother trying to wipe my tears away, just let them fall, gripping on to Josh with all my might, because he is my true constant. The person who’s been there for me through thick and thin. He’s the person I should have trusted with my secrets the very moment they started spiralling into madness.
Yet another thing I fucked up.
I’m still dressed up like an elf, but my grin at being Santa’s helper has been burnt to ashes.
Go!
That’s the word I hear in my mind. All I can see is Reuben’s mortified face as he sent me away.
“Come here, let’s get you settled,” Josh says when my sobs calm. He takes me by the hand and leads me to the sofa, and there is Ella, with a pillow held to her chest as she looks at me with nothing but love in her eyes. She’s on the verge of tears herself, hurting for me, even though neither of them has any fucking idea what I’m hurting from.
I drop into my usual spot on the sofa, with Josh right beside me. He rests his hand on my knee and tells me to breathe. Calm. In and out, in and out. I listen to him, sucking in air through my nose and blowing it out through my mouth, trying to regain the use of words.
Both Ella and Josh are staring patiently at me, waiting for me to speak. I almost choke as I try.
“I fell in love with Santa. At the mall.” I gesture to Ells. “When me and you went that day, and I sat on his lap.”
“I remember,” she says. “The client with no bookings. Were you his first? The owner of the mall?” She pauses. “Oh crap, have you fallen in love with a client, Tiff? Has Orla found out or something?”
I shake my head, a fresh sob rising from my chest.
“He’s not just a client… the owner of the mall is a, um… he’s a…”
It feels so hard to say it, to admit what I’ve done.
“He’s a founder. Reuben Sinclair. He’s a founder, and I went back to the grotto, and I fell in love with him. And now it’s over. It’s all gone to shit.”
The pair of them turn as pale as Reuben was when I left him. Josh runs his fingers through his punkish hair, and looks over at Ella, the gothic beauty who knows exactly who I’m talking about.