Rachael Stewart - Getting Dirty

‘Forget it. I’m not a child. I don’t need you to hold my hand. You don’t want me—that’s fair enough. But don’t patronise me while you reject me.’

I spin on my heel and force my stride to be steady as I head for the car. I won’t give him the satisfaction of racing off and letting him see how his words, his contradictory behaviour have hurt me. And I certainly won’t let him see the tears that come from nowhere.

Because they aren’t about him. They’re about everything else. His rejection has only served to trigger the whole damn lot.

‘Coco…’ he calls after me. ‘I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to upset you.’

And now he’s offering out pity? I shake my head. No fucking way .

I’ve heard enough. I don’t turn. I don’t break stride. I head to my car and get in. I don’t dare look back at him until I’m safely locked away behind the privacy glass and the car is moving. Then I look and I see him standing there, confusion in his eyes.

‘Where to, my lady?’ Derek asks.

The last thing I want is to go home like this. I spent the morning with Granny, chatting with her doctors, the nurses, trying to mask the pain, to be strong. This foolish seduction was to have been my solace, my hope. Now that has failed, and I’m even more messed-up than before. The tears were living proof.

‘Blacks…please.’

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