Trust - Page 104
“Yeah?”
“I fucking love you. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.”
I believed him.
I fucking did.
***
I walked out of the gate an hour later, going to get some more milk and bread before I left for work. Some apples that my boyfriend had requested.
The boyfriend I lived with.
There was a bunch of girls by the gate, and my stomach jolted, though I hoped I’d managed to slip out before they spotted me.
“Does The Dieter live here?” one of them asked, thrusting herself a bit too much in my face.
“Who?” I asked.
“The Dieter?” Another girl joined in.
“The what? Never heard of it.”
“He’s a singer.”
Oh, go away.
“No idea,” I lied, setting off down the road.
I didn’t want this. I definitely didn’t want this. And where was that security twat when you needed him?
The girls were gone when I returned with my shopping, and I was grateful for that little mindfuck being over. For now. It happened all the time at work. Celebrities all had their followings, some more hysterical than others. Blitz were chaos and hysteria, always had been.
I left the shopping inside and kissed my boyfriend goodbye, feeling better about the gate locking behind me as I set off for work. Just another eight hours before I could come back here, snuggle up on the sofa, figure out what else I could do. The downstairs nanny flat needed a lick of paint. I was going to do that this week, and perhaps wash the windows. There was a nice view of the gardens. We could sit down there. Our feet in the grass.
Work was therapeutic, and I was happy standing by my desk, letting the world pass me by. It was a lovely, sunny day, the warmth washing over me every time the doors opened, people walking by with smiles on their faces.
More kids.
“Are you Reuben?”
I pointed at my name badge. Obviously.
“We have some gifts. For The Dieter. Can we give them to you?”
Snazzy gift bags. Pictures of Gray all over them. They had Dieter gift bags? Like, seriously? I should order some. Gift my dad his Father’s Day socks in a Dieter gift bag. Perhaps I could even get Dieter socks for him. I sniggered. The girls just stared at me.
“Can we take a photo with you?”
“Why?” I smiled. Be nice. You’re at work.
“Well, you’re The Dieter’s…friend. Is he still with Josh? Are they actually married?”
My face must have said it all, because her friend shoved her fist in her mouth.
“I have no idea.” See? Now go away.