Hypes gets days off. Peoples get updates. Enjoy x
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15. A Blurring Of The Lines
Katie
I woke up in a field. A field! Ok, so this circumstance was mitigated by waking up with my limbs wrapped round Effy, but still… a field, for fuck's sake. I blinked and propped myself up on one elbow, trying to orientate myself, but it was fucking useless. I didn't have a clue where I was or even what time of day it was. How come I always ended up waking up somewhere dubious when I was with Effy? Oh yeah, that would be the stupid amounts of drugs and the fact that once I had her to myself I could never bear to let her go, no matter where the night would take us. I gazed down at her beautiful face, still blissfully crashed out despite the fact that the sun was high in the sky and pouring its welcome rays down upon us. It was hardly a surprise. The poor thing hadn't slept for two days, launching herself into a massive bender because of me and Cook. Except that this wasn't just about me and Cook, or her and me, or her even and Freddie. Outside of our exciting love quadrangle Effy held a secret bigger and darker than all of us.
It was a thing I'd seen a hundred times in fashion, highly strung creatives hanging on by a thread. In a way it seemed to be the curse of genius. That's why it was left to people like me to run their lives for them. But Effy was the opposite to most of the people I'd met before. Instead of attention seeking, she tried to hide her troubles away behind her air of mystery and her stoicism. She didn't want the world to see her weakness, so she buried it in an attempt to live a normal life. Except Effy was far from normal, she was much more magical than that. And her attempting to deny it was damaging her.
At first I believed that she and Freddie were in love. That he was a good man and a stabilising influence, and there was no way I was going to interfere with that despite my obvious desire. But now the lines were becoming blurred. Whilst I was still confident that his motivations were pure, I was seriously questioning his methods. And although I didn't doubt that Effy loved him in a way, much like she loved all of her boys, I knew she wasn't really in love with him. He didn't make her happy, he just fended off the darkness, and this cycle of suppression and explosion was ultimately destructive. For the first time I was beginning to think that I wanted to take her away from him, and it was seriously fucking with my concepts of right and wrong. It had taken everything I had to push her away from me last night. Kissing her had felt so instinctive and so right. I hadn't felt so helplessly turned on since…
But it was remembering Anna, and the unbelievable pain I had experienced when I caught her with Anton that brought me to my senses. I couldn't be that person. Though I had no qualms about smacking someone around the head when they deserved it, that was a different kind of pain. That kind of pain you could recover from. But the other kind… it still fucking hurt to think of it, and I couldn't inflict that on another human being. Not even Freddie. Not even for her.
I sat up properly and just watched her sleeping for a while. Creepy, I know, but she looked so peaceful now compared to the traumatised mess I had found her in. I remembered the way her face had lit up when she had started to talk about Tony.
"Tell me about him," I had asked her.
"He was a complete cock," she said, though the sparkle in her eyes belied the validity of her words. "At least he used to be. He was cocky and manipulative. He had girlfriends, but he was always screwing around behind their backs. He had no qualms about fucking people over to get what he wanted, and he was all about looking after number one."
"Sounds charming," I said.
"Except with me," she continued. "He loved me. He would have done anything for me. It was me and him against the world. He was the only person that really understood me. My parents certainly never did. But yeah, he was a bit of a bastard for a while."
"Something changed?" I said, sensing that this was not the whole story.
"He was out in Mexico in his gap year," replied Effy. "Typical Western Jack the Lad whoring his way round the globe."
All of a sudden she shivered, despite the increasing warmth of the morning sun.
"He got caught up in a massive earthquake," she said.
"Oh God, was he alright?"
"Miraculously, he got out without a scratch, but hundreds of others didn't. There was massive devastation all around him. He said it was like seeing the country he had been travelling in for the first time. It wasn't just his playground. It was a real place, with real people and they needed help. He didn't take the easy way out. He started working with the local men, digging people out with his bare hands. He pulled a child out of the rubble. He held the hand of a dying woman who was trapped. Even when the army came, he refused to be shipped out with the other westerners and stayed to help any way he could, helping the relief workers setting up shelters and distributing food. Still working on the digging until time ran out."
"Fuck," I said, somewhat uselessly given the enormity of his experience.
"He came back a different man," said Effy. "Much more humble. He immediately changed his degree so he could study seismology. Got himself into training so he could join a pro rescue team. And now he works all over the world in earthquake research, and he's on emergency call with one of the top international rescue teams. He has a beautiful wife that he met in Japan, and basically he's just a fucking hero."
Effy's eyes shone with pride.
"I just wish I saw him more," she said sadly.
"I'm sure he still loves you," I said soothingly. "Even if he's far away."
"Of course he does," replied Effy. "Except now I have to share him with the world. It's ironic that the thing that made him into a better man, meant that I lost him in another way. He got so focussed that he didn't have the same kind of time for me, and I discovered I was kind of lost without him. I think that's part of the reason I nearly fucking lost it as a teenager. I'd lost my rock, and my boys were just as mixed up, young and crazy as I was. I gave her hell for it at the time, but thank fuck my mum split up from my dad and dragged me back to France.
"So do you get on with your mum now?" I asked.
"Yeah," laughed Effy warmly. "She's kinda special."
"What does she do?" I asked intrigued.
Any woman responsible for creating Effy Stonem had to be pretty fucking extraordinary.
"She builds bridges," replied Effy.
"What, like some kind of marriage guidance counsellor thing?"
"Fuck no," laughed Effy. "She'd be like the worst person at that ever. No, she actually builds bridges. She's an architect. I mean she does buildings and stuff as well, but bridges are her thing. Have you heard of the Chevalier Group?"
Of course I had. That company had been responsible for iconic new buildings in most of the European cities I had worked in, and it was on a fashion shoot on a stunning Chevalier bridge in St Petersburg that I had first met Anna.
"Wow," I said, genuinely impressed, "She works for them?"
"She is them," announced Effy. "My mother is Anthea Chevalier. She dropped the Stonem part when she got divorced."
"Fuck, she's like really famous," I said, stating the obvious.
"Yeah," shrugged Effy. "So my mother's a world renowned creative genius and my brother's a hero. Tough act to follow for a fucked up kid with depression."
"But what you do is incredible," I insisted.
Now that I had her smiling I didn't want her hitting another downward spiral.
"You really think so?" she asked with complete sincerity.
"I know so," I said, squeezing her hand. "I think you were born to do it."
"I knew it too," she said, looking more peaceful than I had ever seen her. Her mask was down, and she was stunning. She gazed out over the canal, her eyes misting over with reminiscence as she spoke.
"It was instant. Like a bullet to the heart. I was at the opening ceremony for one of my mum's bridges across a gorge in Germany. It was a fucking beautiful structure, still one of my favourites with its graceful pattern of slender silver wires suspending the bed high above the river below. I was in the VIP viewing area, necking down the free champagne and ignoring the pompous speeches, when the crowd suddenly hushed and music began to play. People rushed out onto the terrace where I'd been smoking, and all of a sudden the sky came alive with light."
She turned and locked eyes with me, grasping both my hands and whispering in the hushed tones of a conspirator.
"It was wonderful, Katie. The most beautiful thing I had ever seen. The way they used the architecture of the bridge, enhancing and elaborating my mum's design. And the way the bursts were timed perfectly to the music. The fleeting explosions of colour that had your eyes searching greedily for more. It had a precision that appealed to me, but it was wonderfully emotional too. It took me out of myself, made me forget to be so guarded. It allowed me to feel, and I knew, even before the display ended, that I had found my calling. It had been Groupe TLC of course, no-one else had been that sophisticated at the time. So I practically stalked them until they let me become an apprentice. I'm not kidding myself that being Anthea's daughter didn't help me get a foot in the door, But once I was there, I hoped I'd get by on merit."
"Of course you did," I assured her. "You're really talented."
"At first I thought it would be enough just to be part of it, you know?" she said. "But I seemed to have a gift. Thierry himself noticed me and took me under his wing, but the more I learnt about the material, the more I began seeing pictures in my head. Pictures of how I would do it. Pictures of how I could make the night sky mine. I could hardly listen to a piece of music without mentally designing a show to go with it. Sometimes I miss it. The massive gigs, the stadiums, the bridges, the big city spectaculars. But I had to break out on my own. To prove myself. It's why I came back to England too, to get away from Thierry's shadow."
"Not for love then?" I smirked.
"I'd say it was a kind of love, wouldn't you?" replied Effy.
"Your true love," I whispered softly.
"Is that shallow?" she asked me.
"No," I shook my head slowly. "Quite the opposite in fact. It should be you firing from those stadiums and bridges, babes."
"Maybe one day," she shrugged.
This was Effy. This was the woman I'd seen glimpses of before she fired. This was the woman I had met at the Old Library. Uncaged and free from her affliction, she was passionate, beautiful, talented and generous. And I was completely in love with her. In years to come would I trace it back to this moment? The moment she opened up to me in the rising dawn down by the canal? Or was the truth that I had fallen in love with her on that very first wild night, our subsequent friendship only confirming what I already knew in my heart? Or was it all the way back in Paris, when her presence had stolen its way into my consciousness in the midst of all the chaos?
Either way, the lines were getting seriously fucking blurred, and I was no longer sure what was the honourable thing to do. To respect her relationship, but leave her with a man I didn't believe was right for her? Or to try to make her leave him so I could look after her? I struggled to discover any solution except for the immediate one that Effy herself had resorted to on so many occasions. I reached down into my bra and recovered her stash of coke.
"So," I said cheekily. "How about that line then?"
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And then I woke up in a fucking field. I might have been confused and disorientated, but I was still enchanted.
"What the fuck do you do to me?" I asked in wonder.
It was said out into the ether, but it was enough for Effy's eyelids to start flickering open.
"Hey you," she said with pure affection, even though she was barely focussing. "How are you?"
"We're in a field, Effy," I said, still put out by the indignity of it all.
"Sweet," she murmured, a smile gracing her gorgeous lips.
"It is not sweet, Eff," I complained. "Katie Fucking Fitch does not sleep in fields!"
I froze, suddenly realising the depth of my mistake. I could not afford for my secret to come out now. Not when I had finally gotten her to open up to me.
"You what?" she mumbled, still struggling into consciousness.
"I said, Katie Fucking Bitch does not sleep in fields," I repeated forcefully, hoping my new emphasis would distract her from the truth. "This is a fucking Prada dress. If there are any grass stains on it somebody will have to die."
"You're not a bitch," replied Effy sweetly. "You're lovely."
I swear I could hear the sound of my own heart imploding. Effy was gazing up at me adoringly. Fuck, why wasn't she my lover? Why wasn't this my life? I'd wake up in a sodding field every day just to have her look up at me like that. I wanted so badly for her to be my girlfriend. For it to be alright for me to lean down and kiss her in the sunshine. Resisting the urge to do just that was nearly killing me. Instead I snapped my mask back into place.
"Where the fuck are we anyway?" I said grumpily.
Effy was still smiling as she pulled herself to sitting. She let her eyes travel slowly over our surroundings before breaking out into a gentle laughter.
"We're about two fields away from home," she said, clearly amused by the situation. "We must have walked all the way back along the canal and then cut through."
"And then decided to sleep here?" I huffed. "Instead of two fields away where there are beds, and showers, and food?"
"Don't be so grumpy, Katie," she smiled. "It's perfect. The sun is shining. The birds are singing. And I have you all to myself. It's peaceful. It's paradise."
And all of a sudden it became all too clear why we had fallen into each other's arms in the middle of nowhere. Back at the barn real life would have interfered again, and we would have had to separate for the sake of appearances. And neither of us had wanted that. Once again we had created a bubble for ourselves where our true feelings did not have to be censored. And once again I had found the girl I only caught glimpses of back in our unfortunate reality.
"For the record…" I said, gazing deeply into her mesmerising eyes.
"What?" she said, smirking at me, expecting some Bitch Katie homily.
"This is you happy," I said.
Effy closed her eyes and let her head fall backwards. A gentle breeze flitted across the meadow as I feasted on her sun-drenched features. When she opened them again, I was greeted with an honesty I was sure only Tony and maybe Anthea had been fortunate enough to witness before.
"Thank you," she said.
"What for?"
"For rescuing me," she replied softly.
"So you admit you needed rescuing?"
"Yeah, I did," she confessed, lying back down on the grass. "And I'm sorry I got so jealous and fucking stupid."
I lay down on my side facing her and our hands found each other easily, like they had those nights we had shared in my tent. For minutes we did nothing but stare into each other's eyes as the birds continued to chirp away around us and a random dog barked in the distance.
"It's not getting any easier, is it?" I said eventually.
"No," she admitted. "I thought if we stuck it out, it would go away, you know? That things would get back to normal."
"I've tried to move on, Effy. Honestly I have. I've been out with half a dozen blokes since I met you, but none of them have even properly turned me on apart from Cook."
"Maybe you should give him a second chance," said Effy somewhat nobly.
"Thanks for trying," I laughed. "But it would never work. You're too deep into both of us."
"I'm sorry," she said.
"It's ok," I said, squeezing her hand. "I'm kinda flattered by how much you hate the idea of me and him together."
"I don't want to hate it," she said earnestly.
"But you do," I replied. "And we're just going to have to live with that."
"I'm such a cunt," said Effy angrily.
"You're not a cunt," I said, reaching up to stroke her face. "You're lovely. And that's my problem. Can't find a bloke as lovely as you.'
"Maybe you're looking in the wrong place,' suggested Effy.
"And where do you suggest I look?" I challenged her.
"Maybe you should be looking for a woman,' she shrugged.
"I don't know, Eff," I replied. "I've only ever fallen for two girls. I'm not really gay. Not like Emily is.'
"Who's Emily?" she asked, and I realised how little of each other's lives we had shared until now.
"She's my sister," I replied.
"What's she like?"
"She's lovely," I smiled, reminding myself to go and visit her soon. "She's a filmmaker. And gay. Very gay."
"Ok, let's try a different tack," grinned Effy. "Find out your ideal type. So out of all your lovers, which ones have you felt the strongest bond with?"
"Anna," I said without any hesitation. "Um… and you…"
"So gay enough then," smirked Effy. "I return to my original theory."
"Maybe you're right," I conceded, not believing for a second I could find a woman as beautiful as her. "Maybe the way out of this is for me to get swept off my feet by some gorgeous hottie.'
"You know I'd hate her, right?" said Effy.
"I wouldn't expect anything less," I smiled.
We stayed like that for as long as we could manage, just lying next to each other in the field, drinking each other in and not even caring if anyone's Prada dress got mud on it, before thirst and hunger drove us out of our paradise. I didn't hang around the barn, calling a taxi as soon as I could to get away from Freddie's awful gratitude that I had returned Effy to him in one piece. It was horrible to watch her closing back in on herself as her defence mechanisms locked back into place. I had to get out of there before I was compelled to kidnap her and run off to South America or some such place. I didn't hang around at home either, stopping only to shower and throw a few clothes in a bag before jumping into my car and heading off down the M4. There was only one person I could go to when my head was as messed up as this. I needed my little sis.
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I didn't bother knocking when I had gotten to the flat. I'd called Emily, but it had gone straight to voice mail. She was probably on a shoot, and Naomi was no doubt off somewhere being professionally gorgeous as usual. I'd never not had a key to Emily's places, and she had kept the tradition when she had moved in with the fabulous Ms. Diamond. It was our way of saying that we'd always be there for each other no matter how far apart we ended up living, and I felt perfectly comfortable about marching into her house unannounced.
"Ems," I called softly once I had closed the door, but there was no reply. I could hear music coming from the living room, and decided to head on in.
"Hey babes, it's me," I said, poking my head into the room.
"Well, come on in then gorgeous," said a sultry voice from behind a big swivel armchair with its back turned towards me. "I've got a surprise for you."
And with that the chair spun round to reveal Naomi splayed across its width in an extremely sexually provocative position, wearing nothing but a deliciously fine set of deep burgundy designer underwear.
"Good surprise," I blinked at the astonishing sight before me. My sister was one hell of a lucky bitch.
"Fuck," said Naomi, leaping out of the chair when she realised she was about to try to seduce the wrong twin. "I thought you were, Ems."
"Yeah, I get that," I smirked. "Unless that's the way you greet all of your house guests."
"I didn't know you were coming," replied a flustered Naomi.
"Spur of the moment," I shrugged, coming fully into the room.
Naomi made no attempt to cover up. Let's face it, she had been photographed enough that way, and it wasn't as if her body was anything to be ashamed about. I found myself staring, but it wasn't at my sister's girlfriend.
"Is that the new Mitsayashi autumn collection?" I said enviously.
"Good spot," replied Naomi. "I did the Harper's shoot for him, and came away with the spoils. I was gonna, you know, surprise Emily."
"I'm sure she'll appreciate it," I grinned. "I'm fucking jealous though. That collection doesn't hit the shops for another three months. Not that I could afford it on pyro wages."
"Well, I'm kind of in with him now," said Naomi. "What's your size? I'll see what I can do."
"Really?" I said excitedly.
I would kill to get my hands on a set of Mitsayashis, and I bet they would send Effy into meltdown.
"Do you mind if I…?" I said approaching the blonde.
"Be my guest," replied Naomi, allowing me to inspect the finely crafted fabric.
"Well that's not a sight a girl comes home to every day," my sister's husky voice rang out behind me just as I appeared to be effecting a close inspection of her girlfriend's tits.
"Fuck! Shit!" said Naomi, springing away from me as if I was on fire. "It's not what it looks like."
"It looks like Katie was admiring your fabulous new Mitsayashi autumn collection lingerie," smirked Emily. "Are you trying to tell me you're having an affair instead?"
"Funny, Emily," I scoffed sarcastically. "Very funny."
"I know," shrugged Emily. "But she just looks so cute when she's flustered."
"She does at that," I laughed, seeing the normally ice cool blonde blushing furiously.
"Relax Naoms," said Emily. "Sorry to disappoint you, but Katie's only ever going to be interested in your clothes."
"Actually Ems, I did come here for your advice on matters involving the female form," I said.
"Tell me more," she said, raising an eyebrow.
No point beating about the bush.
"I need you to find me a woman," I said bluntly.
"For what purposes?" she asked.
"For sexual lesbian shagging purposes," I replied, causing Naomi to have some kind of coughing fit. "I need to get over Effy, and blokes just aren't cutting it."
"The hot pyro chick?" quizzed Naomi.
"Oh my God, have you shagged her?" said Emily.
"No, but I really, really want to," I admitted. "And it's not going away. I need to find some other hot girl to take my mind off her."
"In that case you're in luck," said Naomi. "We're going to a party."
The party seemed to be some kind of London power lesbian shindig. On the way over there I had spilled my guts to Ems in the taxi. I hadn't really minded that Naomi had been there as well, she had almost become a part of the family by now, and her and Emily seemed rock solid, and sickeningly in love. Emily had assured me that the party would be 'brimming with totty', and to be fair she wasn't wrong. I followed her and Naomi as they did the rounds, watching as people gushed and fawned over them. It seemed strange that my shy, hard-working and artistic little sister had suddenly become one half of a celebrity power couple, but surprisingly I didn't envy her one bit. I watched as she soaked up the attention I would once have craved, and found that it did nothing for me. I cast my eyes around the room as we walked, and yes there were a number of glamorous and beautiful women there all dolled up to the nines in expensive outfits. I tried to be open to potential, I did, but they all washed over me like so much superficially attractive eye-candy. The more champagne I consumed, the more I found myself day-dreaming about a mud-splattered Effy in her firing suit, an image I found infinitely more sexy. I was a fucking lost cause.
"So," said Emily after an hour or so. "Have you spotted anyone you like?"
"No," I sighed wearily. "I just can't stop thinking about her."
"Jesus girl, you're whipped," laughed Naomi.
"Um… pot, kettle, black, much?" I retorted.
"Oh, I totally admit it," she replied. "Emily's got me by the nuts."
"Come on you," said Emily grabbing me by the hand and dragging us over to a table with a good view of the dancefloor. "We need to be more proactive. Naoms and I will help."
We spent the next ten minutes watching the crowd, with Emily and Naomi pointing out all of the fit girls that they knew, and they knew a lot of fit girls. Some of them sounded really nice too, but the whole thing was an exercise in pointlessness. None of them were Effy.
"What about Natasha?" said Emily pointing out a tall elegant woman with black hair and hazel eyes. "She's a theatre director. Very smart, very cultured. Gets invited to lots of swanky openings and premieres. Well travelled."
I stared blankly at the woman, who I'm quite sure would have made someone a lovely girlfriend, but my heart remained heavy and black, with no spark to bring it back to life.
"It's no use," I sighed heavily. "They're all very pretty and that, but they just don't make me feel anything. Nothing at all, no spark, not even a mild whimpering of lust."
"I'm so sorry, Katie," replied Emily, her kind brown eyes searching my own. "But I think you're kinda fucked."
"Great, that's just great," I said, putting my head in my hands. I was getting fucked off with this party and I just wanted to go home.
"If this Effy means so much to you, maybe you should fight for her," said Emily.
"Um…" said Naomi nervously. "There might be another solution."
"What?" I said urgently.
I'd take the chance at anything to drag me out of this confusion.
"Ok, so it's a bit of an off the wall suggestion, and I don't want you to bite my head off for it," replied Naomi cautiously. "But I was on a shoot with a someone last week, who's both drop dead gorgeous, and fucking crazy about you."
"Who?" I asked intrigued.
It wasn't inconceivable that someone from fashion had harboured a secret crush on me.
"Anna Markova," said Naomi.
"Naoms," growled Emily protectively. She had been the one who had had to pick up the shattered pieces of me after all.
"Hear me out," said Naomi. "You said you wanted someone who could make you feel, right? And we all know that Anna does that for you."
"She fucking cheated on her, Naomi," said Emily indignantly.
"Yeah, and she's still in fucking bits about it," replied her girlfriend.
"She's what?" I said incredulously.
"She was all over me the minute she recognised me," said Naomi. "She was desperate to hear about you, to find out if I'd seen you. She dragged me out to drink vodka."
"Yeah, she does that," I smiled, despite myself.
"Told me she and I had the same heart," continued Naomi. "That both of us had been captured by the power of a Fitch girl, and that there was no escape. She said that you had been the best thing that had ever happened to her. That she had been an idiot. That she was miserable without you. That she desperately wanted to win you back. She's still in love with you, Katie. She's always been in love with you."
"Then why the fuck was she fucking Anton De Vasco?" I spat "If she was so in love with me then why was she career fucking a famous photographer?"
"It was a mistake, Katie," insisted Naomi. "She was lonely. She said she missed you. She told me it was the biggest mistake of her life, and she would do anything to take it back or to make it up to you."
"Then why didn't she talk to me?" I grumbled.
"You can be a little scary, you know," said Naomi.
"But she fucking slept with someone else. I found them at it. It hurt so much."
"People fuck up, Katie" she said softly. "They get scared. They get insecure."
"Oh really, Naomi 'Voice of Reason' Campbell," I said haughtily, taunting the blonde with her long forgotten real name. "Kindly tell me what Anna Markova has to be insecure about. She's one of the most beautiful women on the fucking planet. What she did was wrong. Would you cheat on Ems?"
"I might," said Naomi quietly.
"WHAT?" I said furiously, winding up to give her a beating, before feeling Emily's restraining hand on my arm.
"I love her," continued Naomi, gazing soppily at my sister. "I love her so much, it's terrifying. I keep thinking what happens when she gets more famous, and she goes to Hollywood, and she meets all these fancy young actresses who'll do anything to get cast in her film? I keep thinking, what if she stops loving me? What if she doesn't need me anymore? What if she leaves me? The way I feel about her now, I think I'd just die. And it scares the fucking life out of me, feeling like that about someone. It's like being a prisoner, and it makes you want to rebel. Not because she's done anything wrong, but she's so fucking perfect, and I'm just a useless fuckhead, and any day now she's going to realise it and find someone better. And you start to wonder if you should just push it, if you should just fuck it up now because it's going to happen anyway. Because you're scared, and because you're weak."
"I'm not going to leave you," said Emily urgently. "I fucking adore you."
"It's not logical," said Naomi. "It doesn't make any sense. But it's still there, the fear. And love and fear make idiots out of us all."
"I love you," said Emily, going to her girlfriend and wrapping her in her arms.
"Just don't ever forget it, yeah?" said Naomi, the beginnings of tears in her eyes.
As I watched the lovers kiss and make up, I began to contemplate the fact that even though Naomi Diamond was one of the most beautiful, successful and desirable women in the world, a woman who's life was envied and craved by countless other women across the globe, she was still just as insecure as the girl next door when it came to love. I had assumed that Anna was cynically fucking Anton for a boost up the career ladder, but what if it had been for all the reasons Naomi had just described? What if it had just been a stupid immature mistake? What if she had just been scared?
"What would you do if she did cheat on you, Ems?" I asked.
"I don't think there's any one answer," she replied. "Nothing's black and white and I guess it would depend on the circumstances, but in truth? I'd probably forgive her. I love her too much to let a random shag come between us. And who's to say I wouldn't be the one having those feelings and making those mistakes? At the end of the day we're only human."
I downed the rest of my glass of champagne and grabbed another one from a passing waitress with a tray. It had little effect. The thought that Naomi had planted in my head was a sobering one. If Anna was still as in love with me as she claimed, could I forgive her? After all, I wasn't exactly so squeaky clean myself these days, having kissed another man's woman, and idly plotted how I could steal her away from him. I really had loved Anna with all my heart, and if anyone could pull my focus away from Effy, it would be her. My beautiful, crazy, magnificent Russian. Ridiculous sexual flashbacks started ricocheting round my brain. I couldn't work it out. I couldn't even think anymore, the straight down the line morality that had been my rock for so long was crumbling beneath my own touch. When even Naomi and Emily, the perfect couple with their perfect fucking love were admitting their doubts and fears to each other, who could really tell which way the future lay between this blurring of the lines?
