14

Natalie. Natalie. Natalie.

The name repeated itself over and over again in my mind. Julia's ex. It had to be.

Why was she here?

I was frozen in place. I looked around. The floor was empty. I should have turned and walked away, but putting one foot in front of the other felt like a marathon. My legs were weighted down like tree roots tangled into the ground. It was impossible to move.

Their conversation faded and then returned to focus. Were they pacing? The conversation couldn't have started long ago. I'd just been with Julia. Was Natalie at the room waiting for her when she returned? Did Julia know? There was a lot to consider and little evidence to examine. Their voices grew louder, which benefited my eavesdropping but not my discretion.

"Why did you come here?" Julia asked.

"For you. I made a mistake, J . . . I love you . . . I only . . . nothing compares . . . an idiot . . . I wish I co . . ."

Natalie must've been doing handstands as she spoke because I could barely make out a full sentence, but the bits I did hear, I didn't like.

Then there was silence. Julia said nothing in response. Was Natalie comforting her? It was torture. I leaned in closer. My ear was pressed so hard against the door if it opened, I'd topple straight in.

"Is it because of that girl?" Natalie hissed.

"It is, isn't it? The brunette with the fringe. Is that your type now?"

I didn't like the way she said fringe. She was insulting my hair. Her type? What was that supposed to mean? Rude.

"It's not because of any girl," Julia responded.

"Then what is it?"

"Natalie, you cheated on me with my best friend. You can't then jump on the next flight to Mexico to try and win me back because you've decided you don't want to sleep with her anymore."

Julia's voice grew louder. I managed to move my legs, so I was against the wall and not directly in front of the door.

"I told you it was a mistake. We didn't date or anything; I was too hung up on you."

"Yes, so you keep saying."

"Do you think she would've called and told me you were here if there was something between us?" Natalie asked.

"Why was she even here? Didn't you think to tell her this was the hotel I booked for us. Obviously, I was going to be here."

"I haven't spoken to her in months, I swear. She didn't know you would be here, and when she called and told me you were here, I had this urge to see you."

"Was that urge fuelled by the fact she told you I was spending time with another woman?" Julia challenged. I bent down and pretended to adjust the laces on my shoes as an older couple walked by.

"Maybe, a little bit. I didn't like the idea of it, okay? I'm only human, J. "

The way she said J in the innocent non-homewrecking voice made me want to vomit. It was an incredibly cute pet name, and it suited her, just not coming from Natalie's mouth. I could feel my body burning. Was I jealous? The last thing I wanted was Natalie worming her way in and ruining my final days with Julia.

"You lost the right to feel anything about me and my life when you did what you did."

"I know, and I want to make it up to you. If you will give me a chance, I know we can be good again," Natalie pleaded.

Julia, say something. There was silence again. Was she considering her proposal?

"Or would you prefer to throw it all away for someone you've known for a week? You're not that foolish, surely."

"This isn't about Harper!" Julia yelled. "Why does someone else have to be involved? Can't you just accept the fact that maybe I'm still hurting from what you did? You brush things under the carpet like it's nothing, but you broke my heart, and now you're trying to make me feel bad about a girl I just met on holiday and had a fling with to take my mind of it."

Oh. I held my breath. My heart rate slowed. Is that all I was? A holiday fling? A distraction?

"I'm sorry I broke your heart. I just want the chance to prove to you I have changed. If you give me the opportunity I will never, ever, hurt you again." She sounded sincere.

"I can't." Julia's voice turned to a whisper. If she said anything else, I couldn't hear it. I heard the door to the balcony slide open. They were now in the place we'd had sex that very morning. Our bodies had touched every corner of that room over the last twenty-four hours. My essence would still be in that bed, and now she might share it with someone else. She had the right to because they had history, and I was just a fling .

It stung, probably more than it should. Julia had said nothing in the parts of conversation I overheard to indicate we were anything more. My eyes filled with tears, and I felt foolish.

I felt foolish for imagining, even if only briefly, a life where me and Julia could be something more.

I walked past Sarah's room and bashed my hand against the wooden door too hard; it started to throb. From there I continued to my own room next door.

"Woah, what's going on?" Billie dropped her book on the nightstand.

"I knew I shouldn't have listened to you." I flopped on the chair by the balcony.

Sarah strolled in after me in a sports bra and a pair of brightly coloured knitted shorts she somehow managed to pull off.

"Did you guys play knock a door run, seriously? You're a little too old for that." Sarah saw me slumped in the chair, probably with dark mascara running eyes and streaks in my makeup. "What's going on?"

I edged forwards to look in the full-length mirror to my right, yep, definitely numerous makeup streaks. How embarrassing. I curled my knees up to my chest. The chair was big enough to fit three decent sized humans, so I could comfortably curl myself into a ball without fear of falling off the end .

"She said I was a fling."

"She actually said those words?" Billie asked.

"Yes, I was a fling and a distraction."

"Oh, shit," Sarah added.

"What exactly did you say to her?" Billie moved over to my side of the bed to get closer to me.

"I didn't say anything to her; I overheard her telling her ex." I should've given more context, but the words were falling from my lips in bits, and I couldn't summon the enthusiasm to express the whole story at once.

"Now I'm seriously confused," Sarah said.

I explained who Natalie was, what she'd done, why she was here, what she said, what Julia said, and left it all out on the table for them to analyse.

"That little bitch." Billie sat forwards. "How dare Natalia,"

"It's Natalie," I corrected.

"I don't care. How dare she fly to Mexico and try to win our Julia back."

"I didn't realise she was our Julia," Sarah said what I was thinking. Billie ignored it.

"Who cheats on Julia anyway? She's probably the sexiest lesbian I've ever seen, no offence to you two."

"None taken." I totally agreed with her statement. Julia was sexy.

"I don't like this Natalia girl."

"Natalie," I corrected, again.

"Regardless of what you think of Natalie, the problem is what Julia said. She said I was just a fling. She brushed me aside in the conversation like I meant nothing." The cold hard truth was there in black and white.

"Are you okay?" Billie asked .

"Not really." I shrugged. I allowed myself to hope, and I was quickly shot back down to earth in a giant ball of flaming meteorite.

"This is the reason I didn't want to do this. I didn't want a holiday romance because now look at me. Julia will get back with her ex-fiancée because I served some purpose in their saga, and I will be left forever wondering why she didn't feel the same about me."

"I'm sorry, Harps." Sarah came and curled her half naked torso beside me on the chair.

"I'm sorry too." Billie did the same. She brushed the tears from my face. "If she can't see you're a fine piece of ass with the biggest heart and the kindest soul, she doesn't deserve you anyway."

"I love you guys." I sniffled.

"We love you more," Sarah said.

I was sandwiched between my two best friends who I loved more than anything in the world, and I found comfort in that. We stayed that way for a while. Our conversation turned from sadness, to hatred, to sarcasm, and everything in between.

I had three days left to do one of two things: avoid Julia at all costs or pretend I didn't overhear the conversation with Natalie. I feared the latter would be too difficult.