Thank you all for your lovely reviews. A few replies first, and then on with the next chapter!
IslandGem: Thank you :)
MGMango: Ahh thank you, I was going for 'Bridget Jones' style humour, if you've heard of her :)
Boris Yeltsin: Haha, I don't like salmon myself!
Bluebell140: Sorry the update wasn't sooner, but enjoy!
pumpkinking5: Thank you for the feedback, and again for the well wishes :)
trecker: I am indeed British – I hope the phrases don't ruin the story for you!
AngKeats: Ha, thanks – your review gave me a good giggle ;)
I walk inside the dining room and realise there's no way I'll be able to eat a thing, let alone the salmon.
"Sorry mum, I have to go," I say in a rush. I walk out into the hall and grab my coat before she can even blink.
"Gabi, what on earth has come over you? And where's Troy?" she demands, glancing uneasily at my father.
"Exactly," I gesture between them and their silent communication. "Mum, just...ask Dad."
I slip out of the door without waiting for their reactions, then remember that because I didn't go after Troy, I have no way of getting home.
"Are you alright?" A voice makes me jump and I look ahead in the darkness; at which point a pair of car headlights are switched on and Troy comes into view.
"You're still here?" I blurt out in shock. "Hey," he says. "If nothing else, I had a feeling you might give up the salmon in favour of coming home. I wasn't going to just leave you stranded!"
Oh God. What do I do? I don't feel right about this. It's like he knows I'm having a wobble about him; but either he doesn't care, or he really is guilty. Or he is in fact completely innocent, and the nicest man in the world.
"Oh...erm, thanks," I say eventually. Because whatever it is that's going on; I do want to go home, and here he is offering to take me.
We get in the car amidst an awkward silence. I hate this. How did everything I've gained over the last few weeks turn upside down in the space of just a few minutes?
After a few minutes, Troy lets out a soft sigh. "You think I did it," he states calmly. He doesn't sound angry, just deflated.
I want to shout 'No!' and forget everything that's just happened. But I can't. The fact is, I still hardly know him. Surely it makes sense that I'm starting to have a few doubts. I mean, what am I supposed to think after the bombshell my Dad just dropped?
My head's all over the place. Half my mind is angry at my father for not trusting Troy; and the other half is completely crumbling at the possibility that I've got this gorgeous man all wrong.
I don't know what to tell him. I can't lie.
"I don't know."
He nods, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. I suppose there's nothing else left to say.
Something was niggling at me before I left Mum and Dads' house. I thought it was the doubt setting in. But now that I've said something about that; this feeling still hasn't gone away.
The conversation is dead. Neither of us is speaking now, and the atmosphere is so strange and tense. By the time Troy pulls up outside our building, I feel like crying.
I'm looking out of the window, facing away from Troy and wondering how to end this...situation, when I spot someone walking along the pavement and coming to a stop. Is that...?
Yes. It's him.
Oh God...
I hear a sudden 'click' and realise that Troy has opened the car door.
"Wait, don't get out of the car!" I half-whisper, half-yell as my head snaps round to look at him.
"What the..."
"Look over there, outside our building...it's Matt!" I tell him hurriedly.
He stares out of my window and his face flashes in recognition. And disgust. "What the hell is he doing here?" he asks, and I shake my head.
"He doesn't know where I live...I don't..." Oh God, I'm going to have another breakdown. Can this night get any worse?
"Shh, it's okay," Troy whispers gently, suddenly taking my hands in his. His voice is calm and gentle, and I realise how much I've missed that; even though it only disappeared for an hour at the most.
Matt's still there. How the hell are we going to get inside without him seeing, if he's not going to move? I cannot face him again. I just can't. At least not without a lot of alcohol inside me first.
"Right, that's it. You stay here, I'll be back," Troy says, squeezing my hand.
"What? No, wait..."
But he's already shutting the door, walking around the car and striding over to my ex-husband. He approaches him politely, from what I can gather – obviously trying to charm him into leaving quietly. But Matt's having none of it. He's looking over at the car now.
And now he's spotted me. He's smirking away without a care in the world.
Right. I'm not having this. Not anymore.
With a sudden determination that comes completely out of nowhere, I open my door and walk over to stand at Troy's side. I'm facing Matt, and his face reels in shock at my stance.
"You were saying?" I ask, daring him to carry on with whatever he was saying to Troy before I turned up.
After a minute, the look on his face is replaced with that disgusting smirk again. "Well, don't you scrub up well when you make the effort," he husks, making me feel physically sick.
I feel Troy tense up beside me and, without thinking, I reach out to put a hand on his back to calm him. I don't need a fight breaking out over this.
Besides, Matt's not worth the bother.
"I have no idea how you found out where I live; but you've got no right to be here, so just leave now," I say firmly, even though I can feel myself starting to shake.
"I have my sources," he answers in response to finding me. Sources? Who would tell him? Who? "But hang on a minute," he adds. "If I'd known you'd end up looking like this, I never would've divorced you!"
"And if I'd known you would turn out to be such a shallow excuse for a man I would never have married you," I say calmly. "Now please leave."
Matt starts to laugh – and not in a harmless, amused way. "You've certainly changed, Brie. Did you turn into a snob at the same time as losing all that weight?"
I flinch at his nasty assumptions, and that old nickname that I never liked even when we were together. Troy grabs my hand, gives it a comforting squeeze and steps forward.
"That's enough. I suggest you go back to wherever you came from before I call the police."
Matt laughs again. "I think you're wasting your time there, mate. I haven't done anything wrong here."
"Let's get a few things straight," Troy asserts. "I'm not your 'mate', and right now you're verging on harassment and verbal abuse charges, so don't think I won't make that call."
"Fine, whatever, I'm going. But watch out, mate. Before you know it she'll be the size of a house again and you'll wish you'd never got involved with her."
I can't even believe anyone could be this cruel. My hand comes loose of Troy's grasp as he moves even closer to Matt, and for a moment I think he's going to hit him.
"What I wish is that she'd never had the misfortune of being with someone like you. With that kind of attitude you are going to be a very lonely, sad little man. But that's not Gabriella's problem. So I suggest you get the hell out of here, and don't come back."
I'm expecting Matt to make another comment, but he says nothing. It's probably because Troy's face is so hard and so...fierce; I never expected this outcome in a million years.
My ex-husband takes one last look at the both of us, then backs away before turning around and sloping off. I let out a long, shaky breath of relief and try to keep calm about what just happened.
"Are you okay?" Troy's face is a world away from the look he confronted Matt with just minutes ago; now it's creased with concern as his hand cups my cheek.
"Errrr..." I'm not really sure how I am right now. Nor am I sure how I'm still managing to stand upright. I'm just...numb.
"Let's get you inside, it's freezing out here." I give up on thinking altogether and just let him lead me into our building, up the stairs and then into his flat.
I sit down on his sofa while he makes us hot drinks; and only then, in one of those random, delayed reactions, do I let out an embarrassingly loud sob that causes Troy to come rushing out from the kitchen.
He doesn't say anything, just sits next to me and pulls me to him.
Oh God, why can't I stop crying?
Apparently I said that out loud. "It's alright," Troy says. "Just let it out. I'll be here."
So that's what we do. I keep crying until there are no more tears left; and he stays with me.
By the time I can form a coherent sentence again, all I can think of to say is thank you.
The phone starts ringing before he can answer, but he doesn't move to pick it up. "The answering machine is on if it's anything important," he says by way of an explanation.
Right on cue, his machine clicks on and I distract myself by listening in on the message with Troy.
"Troy...it's Richard Montez. This isn't something I wanted to tell you over the phone, much less an answering machine, but it has to be said sooner rather than later. I was wrong. I've just had a call from Frank, and he's...well, he's made a discovery about Tim. I'll talk to you about that in the office in the morning. The bottom line is: I'm sorry, son."
My head is spinning. Tim's been found out? How did that...and oh my God, I owe Troy a massive apology. What the hell am I going to say now?
I am so close to bursting into fresh tears.
If only I hadn't wavered tonight. If only I'd trusted my first instincts. What a bloody idiot.
"I am so sorry, Troy," I whisper, mortified.
"It doesn't matter now," he replies, linking our hands together. He's smiling, though he looks as tired as I am. I wonder what means more to him after that message: the fact that my Dad believes him or the fact that he just called him 'son'.
"Yes it does. It matters because you just stood up for me without question, and you've just spent the last hour or so looking after me and when it really came down to it I couldn't do the same for you and..."
I have to shut up mid-sentence when Troy rests a finger on my lips. "Gabi, you did stand up for me tonight. You spoke up for me in front of your father. Stop being so hard on yourself."
I can't accept what he's telling me. "But then I..."
"Then you heard something suspicious, and it made you question how you felt about me," he interrupts quite casually.
Well, yes. That's basically what happened. But I won't confirm it out loud.
"After the performance that ex-husband of yours just put on down there, no one in the world would blame you for being wary."
He totally gets it. Now I really might cry again.
"The thing is," I manage. "I was worried because I just trusted you from the word go...and when my dad came out with all that stuff about a solicitor, and that email...I wondered whether I'd missed something because I was so busy falling in..."
Oh. Wait. Was I really about to say what I think I was about to say?
Yeah. I was. Sod it, I'm just going to say it now. It's the truth.
"Gabi?"
"Troy, I think I...I mean I know I do, I just don't know how to say it..."
His eyebrows raise in confusion. "You know you do...what?"
What the hell is wrong with me? That sentence made no sense whatsoever. I left out the most important word.
"I love you," I finally say, surprised by how good it feels to hear myself say the words. Even if I'm the one saying it first. Even if he doesn't say it back.
"I love you too."
Oh, thank God he said it back! Suddenly it feels like all of tonight's unanswered questions don't matter right now. They'll matter in the morning; but not now. Now, I'm just going to stay happy.
And here come the tears...
I'm not looking at his face, but I suspect his eyebrows are so high now that they're hidden beneath his hair. "Hey, why...?"
"Because you love me," my voice chokes out pathetically. Honestly, you'd think I was a teenager again, rather than a twenty-nine year old woman who's finally said goodbye to singledom. In my embarrassment, I get up and wander over to put our cups in the kitchen.
Troy's laughing now. "And is that so hard to believe?"
Spookily, and as if to illustrate my point, one of Troy's cups fall out of my hands (okay, so I drop it) and lands on the floor with a crash.
I rest a hand on my hip and look over at him. "Need I say more?"
I hope that mug wasn't sentimental...