Oh crap. You’ve done it now, Jess.
‘So you have a bit of time before then?’ Sam asked eagerly. Why, what did he have in mind? I imagined anything but the truth: I had a hell of a lot longer than a bit of time.
‘Yeah, a little,’ I lied; it was too late to go back now. ‘I wanted to see a bit of Sydney first.’
‘Alone?’ Sam said, a little too hurriedly. Did he want me to be alone? I studied his expression, questioning his motive for bringing me back here for the hundredth time since I’d arrived. My heart started to gallop, everything opening to him again. For a moment, I stalled. I could lie about this too. Just a hint of someone special, a brief flash on his face of excitement morphing into envy; isn’t that what every ex wanted? But I wanted one thing more. And looking at Sam, awaiting my response, his arm on the sofa, inching closer still, it seemed like we finally wanted the same thing, all over again.
‘Alone.’ I nodded as Sam smiled broadly and my heart leapt in my chest. ‘And you? Do you live here alone?’ Sam cast a quick look to the photo of him and his surfer bud propped up on the side table as I took in the size of the space once again. He hesitated for a moment, forcing his gaze away from the picture and back to me. ‘A lot of the time,’ he said, still a little nervous. I guess we both were. It had been so long. ‘But technically there’s the two of us here. Hey, where are you living?’ Sam drew my attention away from his hot housemate. I gave a shifty look to my abandoned rucksack, praying it wasn’t obvious. I wouldn’t take a job on the other side of the world without having somewhere to live. That would be silly – the irony of the thought caught in my mind, stalling my response. And I sure as hell couldn’t tell him I was struggling to afford a hostel. No, he was a grown-up, and he thought I was a grown-up. A grown-up wouldn’t lie. A grown-up would have an…
‘I have an apartment.’ My voice and brain became further detached. Shit, shit, shit. ‘In Randwick,’ I added for good measure. At least this lie was confined to a slightly cheaper part of town; it’s where I was hoping to be before all this happened anyway, before I realised I hadn’t a hope of affording a place until I got myself a job. Sam was just speeding up my timeline. I’d make it all happen before he even had a chance to realise it was ever in doubt.
Sam smiled before looking down at my rucksack, back up to my smudged cheeks. I looked like a homeless person, because in actual fact I was a homeless person. ‘It was meant to be ready today but the landlord decided to do some last-minute renovations.’ I knew my answer wasn’t enough but that I’d already said too much. I forced a smile, hoping it would move the conversation forward. Sam exhaled deeply, trying to keep up with my job, my being here; I always did exhaust him – and not in a good way, not like the first time all those years ag— stop it, brain, stop it. His hand inched ever closer along the back of the sofa. Part of me longed for it to curl around me, to draw me in, for him to lean in and kiss me, to stop any more stupid sentences falling from my stupid mouth.
‘So, you’re not allowed in your apartment yet?’
I nodded, every inch of me wanting to retreat, wanting to start again.
‘And you’ve got two weeks before you start your new job?’
I nodded, nervously. He knew; I could tell he knew. I should have known better than to lie to the one person who knew me better than I knew myself. Had known.
‘So, what are you going to do until you’re settled?’
Settled. That sodding word. The word that made anyone single, unmarried, mortgage-less or childless feel like they were in a perpetual state of flux, like they were invited to a fancy dinner party but didn’t know the right way in.
‘I’ll probably just put myself up in a hotel or something,’ I said, as if putting myself up in hotels was an everyday occurrence in the life of young professional Jess.
‘Will your work cover it?’ Sam pressed me further. Highly, highly unlikely, Sam, seeing as Art Today Australia don’t even know I work for them. I shook my head, as his eyes searched the room around us. I knew that face. Problem-solving Sam. Dissecting my decision, finding a better cure. ‘We could put you up in our spare bedroom for a bit?’ Sam said, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
They had a spare bedroom? I’d spent the last few weeks on a third of a double bed and Sam and his surfer had three bedrooms? For just a moment I felt vindicated. Sam could never know the truth about me or my life since he stopped being a part of it. ‘We really wouldn’t mind.’ He smiled his gorgeous smile. It hit me in my stomach. Why was he being so nice? The last time we saw each other definitely wasn’t nice. But I guess that was a long time ago; maybe now things could be different. Sam’s arm reached out to touch me again, sending tingles down my arm and up my legs. My body softened to his, every inch of mine remembering his so well.
‘No, I couldn’t.’
Finally, something truthful fell from my mouth.
I couldn’t. Move in with my ex? It would drive me insane. More insane. Sam had broken me, broken everything. I couldn’t let him do that again. I looked at him, his face displaying the kind of smile you reserved for best, his eyes alight with promise as if to say: I can fix this, let me fix this. I had waited so long for him to fix it, even longer to be over him. How was living in the next room going to help? Unless, maybe he didn’t want me to get over him, perhaps he’d prefer me under…
‘Sure, you can, we wouldn’t mind a bit,’ Sam repeated, his eyes darting again to the photo. ‘Jamie’s a doctor too. We’ll be on shift all the time; the house will be pretty much empty. You can just spend a few days here using our Internet, preparing for your job.’
Was I a love interest or a charity case? I still couldn’t tell. I stood up and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked like the latter. In any case, was I really in a position to argue? Where else would I go? I had a couple of weeks, tops, to get a job and save enough rent to get my own place. How was living out of a rucksack in an overpriced hostel dorm-room going to help me achieve either of those things? And I couldn’t call my parents and ask them for money and have them think my plan had failed, again. Wasn’t it better to stay in the artisan apartment of two young professionals? Maybe some of their ‘settled’ would rub off on me. And anyway, what was the worst that could happen?
Actually, I knew the worst that could happen. I’d either get drunk and try to make Sam jealous by coming on to his hot doctor housemate who’d then politely ask Sam to kick the crazy girl out. Or there was the teeny tiny chance I’d fall even more madly, obsessively, unworkably in love with my ex-boyfriend. Unless, perhaps, we wouldn’t be so impossible on the other side of the world? We were different now, both older; he was wiser. But no, this was my fresh start, and I’d already made an absolute cock-up of that. Not that Sam knew. And I had every intention of keeping it that way.
‘Sam, I can’t,’ I objected.
‘Of course you can, Jess,’ Sam said. ‘Remember how much fun we used to have?’ Remember? I’d spent the last three years trying to forget.
‘Wouldn’t that be a bit, well, strange?’ I tried my best to argue but could feel my resolve sliding away.