‘Jus, we need to talk.’
Uh oh. He knew what ‘We need to talk’ was all about.
‘Why? Why do we need to talk?’ he managed to croak through a throat newly scrubbed with sandpaper. Having just spent the whole day with Meleah, his heart'd been singing, but now his joy was disappearing like the smoke of a spluttering campfire.
He loved Meleah. No other girlfriend came close to the raging torrent of his feelings for her. She was his angel, his Botticelli angel with her mane of red curls, her smile that cracked open his heart.
He hadn’t seen that coming. How did she fit in being married with all the jetting about they’d done? Sydney. Paris. New York. Rome…
‘How?’ He started to talk then the words dried up like an Australian river in drought.
‘He travels a lot too. He probably has other women.’
‘And this makes it okay?’
‘I’m just saying.’
He turned away. A hot tear ran down his cheek.
‘You must hate me.’
‘Yes. I hate you.’ By saying the words he was trying to man up. Wishing these words were true. ‘I hate you.’ He tried again. Hollow words. He glanced at her. He saw a pitying look on her beautiful white face.
‘I didn’t want it to happen.’
‘What? The marriage? Meeting me? What?’
‘You were just so darn cute. So Hugh Jackman. I couldn’t resist you.’
‘So I’m just some fantasy then?’
‘Well, Hugh Jackman’s more than a fantasy. He’s real.’
‘He bleeds huh? So do I. I’m bleeding here.’
‘When I was with you I felt so excited.’
‘Like Nicole Kidman in ‘Australia’?’
‘Too bloody right mate.’
‘I love you Meleah. You. Just you. You’re my fantasy come to life.’
‘It’s not working out with Frederick.’
‘Yes. What a name, huh? Old money.’
‘Yes, but I don’t need that one any more. But we have a family.’
‘Family?’ This just gets worse and worse.
‘The triplets are only one. Nanny’s throwing a birthday party tomorrow. That’s why I can’t spend the weekend with you.’
‘Then why did you promise me?’
‘Sorry. I’d forgotten.’
‘Forgotten you were married? Forgotten you had triplets? Forgotten you’d promised to come away with me?’
‘All of the above.’
‘Now you’ll have to forget me.’
‘Already done. Bad memory. That’s me.’
|This is my story for #Romantic Friday Writers this week. |
391 words. Click on the image to read more stories on the Forgotten theme.