Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye - Jacquelyn Middleton Page 0,82
flirty smirk and returned to her side as a surge of wind blew across the Thames, ruffling their hair. “Make sure we go out with a bang, eh? Something to remember.”
“Yeah,” she answered pensively, her eyes lingering over Tarquin’s lips. “It would be nice to stay longer, but…” Her gaze rose, roaming to London’s City Hall up ahead, a glass globe that leaned away from the river like it was too close for comfort. “I miss New York. It’s home.”
Unfortunately. Tarquin cleared his throat. “Did you hear back about that museum job?”
“No! I didn’t even get a second interview! The one time I’m on holiday and want work to call, they don’t. I have a hunch my boss is trying to figure out how to let me down easy. You’d think she’d be a pro by now. It’s the third time I haven’t gotten this position.”
“Really? That’s taking the piss. Maybe you should quit, just design full-time.”
“It has crossed my mind.”
“It has?”
“Yeah. I’ve been saving most of my divorce settlement for a rainy day. Maybe it’s time to open my umbrella.” She giggled.
I could never tire of her laugh. Tarquin smiled. “I hope you cleared him out.”
“Funny, that’s what Simon said.”
“Do you bump into him often around New York?”
“Not really. He lives in Garden City, a suburb on Long Island, but I definitely see him a lot.” Leia tightened her purse’s drawstrings. “He’s kinda famous.”
Why are all the women I like into actors? “He’s in films?”
“No, he’s an athlete—in the NHL.”
Oh! Like her dad. “Like father, like former son-in-law. That’s so…Canadian?”
Leia nodded. “Yeah, but if I could do it all over again, I’d never have married him.”
Ouch, that doesn’t sound good. Did Leia stray? Did her husband? He’s a bloody fool if he did. “So, you’d erase all those years, those experiences—”
The Spice Girls blasted into song from Leia’s coat. “Oh. Sorry!” She winced, digging into her pocket. A quick glance at the screen and she tucked it away. “It’s Saz. She’s working late—I’ll call her later. Sorry, you were saying?”
“Oh, just that you regret being married?”
“I do, yeah. It would’ve saved a lot of anxiety and heartache, and god knows how many hours in therapy. You name it, I’ve done it: couples counseling, cognitive behavioral therapy, mindfulness sessions.”
“You did all that, plus therapy for PTSD?”
“Yeah. I’m the poster child for therapy.” Leia bounced her eyebrows. “Still fancy me?”
“Of course! Therapy is nothing to be ashamed of.” Unless you’re me. The truth is I’m too ashamed about my depression to even seek help.
“I totally agree,” said Leia. “I mean, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t embarrassed in the beginning. I didn’t tell a soul. But then I thought, this is helping me heal, making me stronger. That’s good, right? So why hide it?”
Tarquin nodded. And here I am… hiding it, and avoiding therapy because, you know, a bloke who can’t man up and sort out his own shit is so attractive. I’ve been keeping a stiff upper lip, pretending everything’s brilliant for so long it’s now second nature. I have to be careful, though. I can’t let Leia see through my bollocks. Not yet, anyway.
“But that’s the thing—I know why people hide it,” said Leia, pulling her scarf tighter against another blast of frosty air. “It’s that stupid, suffocating stigma.”
Exactly! God, I wish I could be comfortable talking about this stuff like she is. “So, did people treat you differently? What about at work?”
“My closest friends have been great, but I still feel uneasy sometimes, especially around anyone I don’t know well. You’d be amazed how many are poorly informed or just plain rude.”
“I bet.” But that’s it—I’m not amazed. I know what people are like, their snide comments, the so-called harmless jokes… that’s WHY I’ve stayed silent, dealt with the lows on my own.
“I’m using their ignorance to my advantage, though.” Leia met his eyes. “For me, it’s kinda my litmus test.”
“How so?”
“If so-called friends ghost me or business associates choose not to work with me after they find out, then I know they’re not evolved enough to be my people.”
Wow. She’s incredible. “That’s a great way to look at it.”
“Sarah and I learned the hard way to steer clear of close-minded jerks who clutch onto ignorant and outdated beliefs about mental health or disability.” She pulled off her gloves as they passed The Scoop, an open-air amphitheater sunk into the ground beside City Hall. “Sorry! That was a bit of a boring rant!”