Page 11 of One Week With You
“You met him one time. And yes, okay, he was a dick, but even so. You spoke to him for like five minutes.”
“I knew it in two,” he replied, stuffing a whole roast potato in his mouth and staring at me while he chewed.
My nose wrinkled in disgust. I didn’t know why but whenever we sat for dinner we all morphed into our teenage selves, the table some twisted kind of time machine. I couldn’t call them out on it because I’d acted the same on more than one occasion.
This was why I needed a break.
I couldn’t be dealing with this now. I wasn’t sure I had the strength to plaster on a smile and play happy families full of Christmas joy when all I wanted to do was crawl under my duvet and cry. It was all part of my process. I needed to break before I could mend.
Rubbing my hands down the sides of my face, I heaved a long, drawn-out sigh. My pulse raced at what I was about to say. Or rather, the bomb I was about to detonate. At least that’s what it felt like.
“While we’re on awkward subjects, I lost my job on Friday,” I admitted to a round of shock and commiseration from all sides, and my skin burned hot with adrenaline.I did it! I admitted it.“For restructuring reasons apparently, which is Nadia talk for you’re too old. Oh, and then Michael dumped me. Not that I care because we weren’t right for each other. But now that’s out there, I won’t be here for Christmas either. Anyway, what’s new with you?”
There was a round of clinking as everyone’s cutlery clattered to their plates. Almost everyone. I could feel the strength of Rafe’s gaze on the side of my face as I nibbled on a chunk of cauliflower.
“What?” Mum said quietly, but there was something lethal in the sound, so much so that I let my gaze circle the rest of the table first, dreading my mother’s reaction.
There was nothing worse than being a disappointment.
Everyone looked at me in a mixture of confusion and disbelief, which wasn’t surprising. None of us ever missed Christmas. Not once.
Until now.
I glanced at Rafe. The almost permanent furrow of his brow seemed deeper somehow, sharper, and I would have given anything to know what he was thinking.
“Talia Louise Johnson, I know you didn’t just tell me you’re skipping Christmas,” Mum scolded.
“I love how that’s all you focus on,” I mumbled while my mother looked seconds away from a coronary.
“Talia!”
“Mum, Dad, I love you, I love all of you, even you,” I added, glaring at Oliver. “But I’m not in the mood to celebrate this year. I just want to be alone. I need some space to think. There’s a lot going on in my head right now.”
“You’re being very selfish.”
“Mum,” Leo warned, and I appreciated that one word more than he’d ever know.
“Yeah, maybe I am. So what? Why is needing alone time selfish? I know you’ll get mad if I sit here moping all Christmas. Surely it’s better if I’m not here to do that.”
“Nothing’s more important than being with family,” Mum said haughtily.
“I’m more concerned about the job,” Dad joined in, fingers clenched around his napkin. “What are you doing about that? Do you have anything else lined up? What do the job listings say?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. “I don’t know yet, Dad. Okay? I don’t know. It happened two days ago. I’m still catching my breath.”
“But surely – ”
“Please,” I whispered desperately, tears stinging beneath my eyelids because I still hadn’t processed the loss of my job, the terrifying prospect of my future, and what the hell I was going to do now. Michael didn’t come into it aside from a vague kind of annoyance but that was mostly at myself, as predicted.
I’ve wasted so much time…
Surprisingly, my dad’s hand settled on top of my own, loosening the fierce grip on my wine glass. He gave me a gentle pat before staring down the table at his wife. They communicated silently for a few seconds, which seemed to settle my mum somewhat.
“What will you do?” she asked, mystified. “Sit in your flat alone?”
I sighed for what felt like the millionth time, incapable of anything else. “Yes.”
It wasn’t like I had any other options.
