Dream of Us
Chapter Eighteen

Ani’s POV.

“I don’t want to leave you out here by yourself.”

“Don’t be silly! Jaymie will be here any minute. Besides, I’m right outside Sian’s house, I’m fine. It’s still light, Adrian.”

There is a furrow between his eyebrows and his lips are pressed together. He looks like he is going to argue further but thankfully caves.

“Fine, but take my number and text me when you’re in the car, okay?” He insists.

My face is warm as we exchange numbers. We almost kissed. We shouldn’t be swapping numbers like this. If this were the other way around and Jaymie was almost kissing another woman and swapping information with her, how would I take it?

I’d be hurt, sure, but would I be jealous?

I’ve got a lot to think about. Almost kissing Adrian has given me a lot to think about. I need to unpack why I’m so tempted by him, why I’m not in the least bit tempted by my boyfriend, why I’m still with Jaymie, whether our relationship is salvageable or not. So much to consider.

“Text me, okay?” Adrian checks as he opens the door to the cab.

“I will.”

“Promise?”

I meet his eyes, wrapping my arms around myself. “Promise. Bye, Adrian.”

“See you soon, Annie,” he replies.

No sooner has his taxi disappeared around the corner, Jaymie pulls up by the curb. He looks at me as I get in the passenger seat and turns up his nose.

“You smell like alcohol.”

“Hello to you too,” I mumble. “I’ve had a good time, thanks for asking.”

“What do you expect from me, Annie? You’ve been gone for hours and now, you get in the car smelling like a brewery.”

“Well, that’s an exaggeration considering I haven’t even been drinking beer or wine. I’ve had fruity drinks.”

“Laced with alcohol,” he mutters bitterly.

“Excuse me for enjoying myself,” I retort and take out my phone.

“Who are you texting now?” Jaymie asks exasperatedly.

I don’t know why he thinks I’d want to keep talking to him, he’s scolding me. I text Adrian letting him know I’m with Jaymie.

Good. Look after yourself. I’ll be back at the diner on Monday, see you then.

I’m excited at the thought of seeing him again so soon, something else I need to unpack and think about.

“Well?”

I realise that I haven’t replied to Jaymie’s question. I lock my phone.

“Sian, thanking her for the party. What’s it to you?”

“I haven’t seen you in like four hours and the first thing you do when you get in the car is get out your phone! How do you expect me to act?”

“Less like an ass,” I snap. “Look, I don’t want to fight. Let’s just move on, okay?”

“Fine,” he sighs. “I got some work done. What are we doing for dinner this evening?”

“I don’t know, I’m craving pizza.”

“Pizza? Didn’t you eat burgers earlier? I don’t know where you put all this food, you must have the metabolism of a cheetah.”

It’s true, I do eat a lot. My body runs hotter than most, that’s what I blame.

“Don’t judge me, alright? I just want a pizza.”

“I’m not judging! Okay, we’ll get pizza.”

It goes quiet again in the car and I look out of the window. Tomorrow, I’m going to go out by myself, I think I’ll go on a run. I can clear my head without Jaymie around and try to come up with an answer to the question that has been niggling at the back of my mind for the last week, and, if I’m being totally honest with myself, maybe even before then…

Should I break up with my boyfriend?

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My trainers are hitting the tarmac by 7AM the next morning. I couldn’t sleep properly. I had pizza with Jaymie last night, he couldn’t finish his, so I finished it for him. He left just before 10PM and I crashed shortly after that.

I dreamt of Adrian. There was no one else, not my usual three faceless indulgences, just Adrian and I. We were back on the pavement outside Sian’s house, only this time, we kissed. I kissed him, I closed the gap, it was on me. I don’t know if I’m supposed to take the dream as a sign or what, all I know is that I want to run.

It’s symbolic of me running away from my problems. I purposefully ignore any messages on my phone, I blast my music and I run for my life. By the time I stop to catch my breath, sweat is dripping down my back, my hair is stuck to my forehead and my throat is sore from all the panting I’ve done. I’ve put my body through hell for almost half an hour.

I fall onto a park bench and throw my arm over my eyes, giving myself time to think as I cool down. I pause my music and use the silence as a way of looking inward without distractions.

Why am I really with Jaymie? What am I hoping to achieve from this relationship?

I’m with him because it’s easy. I like the companionship. I like having someone to eat dinner with, to go on dates with. He’s a friend, nothing more. When he says he loves me, I reply on rote. I never say it first. I should want to say it first.

There’s no spark or chemistry between us, a key part of a healthy relationship. I’m leading him on by staying with him. He will have hope that, one day, I will invite him to spend the night. It’s not going to happen, though. I try to picture us being intimate and it leaves me with a sick feeling in my stomach.

I sit up and sigh, my decision finalised. I need to break up with him, and soon. Not knowing who else to turn to, I call my foster mum. She picks up on the fourth ring.

“Annie! What a nice surprise. How are you?”

We catch up for a few minutes. I remember what I wanted to call her about a couple days ago, when Adrian came into the diner.

“Hey, random question, did I ever make peanut butter and jam sandwiches as a teenager?”

She laughs lightly, a soft, tinkling sound that makes me smile. “No, I don’t recall you ever making one. It would be rather American of you, aren’t they the ones that always make ‘PB and J’s’?”

“I think they are popular in the states, yeah. I know it’s random, but the dream I had unlocked a memory where I was making them as a teenager.”

“That is strange. You’ve never made them at our house.” She hesitates and I already know what she is going to tentatively suggest, “Do you think, perhaps, it was a memory from before you joined us?”

It’s a big deal that I don’t have any memories before I came to live with my foster mum at fifteen. I’ve spoken to child psychologists about it. The concern was that my past was so traumatic that I’ve blocked most it. I don’t feel traumatised, I don’t understand why I don’t remember anything.

“I guess it could be. I didn’t recognise the kitchen so that’s a possibility.”

“Very odd. Please tell me if anything else comes back to you, I’d love to know more about your life before us.”

“I know, I will.”

“How’s Jaymie?” She asks.

My foster mum is probably the only person in my life that is supportive of mine and Jaymie’s relationship. That being said, she’s never met him so that might be why. She likes him because he stops me from being alone in her eyes. She’d like anyone I dated; I think.

“He’s good, but things aren’t great between us. I…I think I’m going to break up with him.”

“Oh, sweetie pie. What’s wrong? Has something happened between you two?”

“That’s just it, nothing has happened. We’re so stuck in a rut, we’re boring when we’re together and this isn’t going anywhere. It would be wrong of me to stay with him, we’re not right for each other.”

“You sound confident in your decision. Well, if you’re sure, you’ve got to do what’s best for you.”

“Thank you, you always know the right things to say.”

“It’s part of being a mum, sweetie pie.”

We talk for a bit longer. I run home, although not as quickly or intensely as before. I take a shower and call Jaymie, inviting him round. He’s on the other side of the city so I have half an hour to mentally prepare myself for what I’m going to say.

Nonetheless, I still feel sick with nerves when he arrives, and I buzz him up. I let him into the flat and invite him to take a seat on the sofa. He sits down opposite me, confusion on his face.

“What’s this about, Annie? Is everything okay?”

Oh, this is going to be like hurting a puppy. I don’t want to do it!

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