Boredom.

Kayleigh Moore sat there trying to remember how it felt. She could remember complaining about it. She could remember, very distinctly, a time when she was certain she would die of it, that she would explode if she spent another minute in that small village where nothing happened. And yet today, even though only a few weeks had passed from that time, she couldn't for the life of her remember what it felt like to be bored.

And she yearned for it. She needed it. Because she couldn't understand what was so wrong about it. She had been so convinced that boredom was the worst thing in the world. It was the root of an evil that was so underrated, so subtle, but so destructive. Being bored, was worse than being sad or angry. Kayleigh Moore had been sure of it. But that was before London. Before Paris. Before all her dreams were put into a motion that could not be stopped or even escaped.

Now, because Kayleigh hadn't had a moment of dullness, a minute of non-chaos, for so long, Kayleigh was beginning to think that boredom was just another word for peace. Bliss.

She studied the party she sat with at the chic, white marble table in the exclusive restaurant she would never be able to get into if she weren't with two young Kiltons and a supermodel, and frowned.

If she was bored, one of the nobodies waiting on them rather than sitting with them, she would have seen glamour, money, excitement. Now, the overwhelmed, unbored Kayleigh saw needless drama, secret feuds, and fake smiles.

She pressed her lips together to suppress the cynical laughter that bubbled in her throat as Abigail's hand covered Marcus's over the table, in plain view for everyone to see how inseparable they were.

Inseparable. Deliriously happy.

That was the theme of today's lunch.

Bored Kayleigh would have undoubtedly dubbed Abi's melodic laugh as an expression of joy. Her sweet countenance, a demonstration of her bridal glow. She would have called Marcus's restless eyes and stiff shoulders signs of protectiveness. Sure, the man looked like he was itching to leave, like he wanted to be anywhere else but there... probably back in his hotel room with his betrothed. Bored, unknowing Kayleigh would have put down Greta's and Victoria's unwavering attention to their boss, the constant phone calls, texting, emailing as a commitment to their duty. They were obviously people who worked hard, with love, passion and loyalty. Max's and Maxine's rod straight posture was a show of their effortless poise, and Chelsea's and Chloe's loud voices were surely an endorsement of their best friend's happiness.

But Kayleigh Moore was sitting at their table. She was not an outsider and she was not bored. The glamourous sheen that fooled everyone else did not work on her. She knew the meaning behind the groom's frown. She saw the bride's eyes were unsmiling. She felt the tension between the maid of honour and the bride's brother and wondered what the heck happened there. She saw the commitment of Abi's two leading ladies was towards finding a distraction, not towards their work, and that it was mere alcohol fuelling the two bridesmaids into near hysterics. No endorsement there. Kayleigh wondered if they even cared. Did they even notice that their best friend's eyes had been red before she 'flipped out' because the boys had crashed their girls' trip? That her mood had changed three times in the span of the one hour Kayleigh had seen her that day?

Probably not.

But Kayleigh saw through all the cracks she would have missed if she were bored, less knowing and she turned to her brother, who unsurprisingly saw none of it as he wallowed after what must have been a very intense argument with the girl who was more important to him than he realised.

Her phone pinged on the table and Leon jumped at the sound.

"Is it Rosie?"

Kayleigh sighed. Of course, it was Rosie. The poor girl was all alone in Southwold, missing all the action, feeling left out and bored, and instead of basking in the bliss of her non-chaotic afternoon, she was complaining about it to Kayleigh.

"You really need to chill, Bro," Max advised as he sipped on his French wine and grimaced. He had already shared his dislike for French wine several times. Four times, to be exact. But that didn't stop Maxine from ordering two bottles of local. One white. One red. "This Rosie girl is only going to kick you harder if she knows you're down on the ground," he went on.

Maxine Azera rolled her eyes. "Really? You're giving him advice on how to get the girl?"

"Hey, I never had any problems getting a girl," Max replied defensively.

"You can get a hundred girls. If you can't keep one, you still have nothing."

"Guys, can we not do this here? People are staring," Abigail hissed, her easy smile fixed as though it was superglued to her lips.

Marcus's knee, which had been bouncing non-stop since they sat down stilled as he turned to his bride with a tight smile and glowering eyes. "And they can't see any frowning faces at this table or all of Europe will come to a standstill," he growled, earning himself a warning look.

He shifted in his seat, stretching out his legs and letting go of Abi's hand as she replied, "You know what? It just might! It's fashion week. Everyone who is anyone is here."

"Yes. And yet, it's a tragedy because three more guys decided to join the fun."

"Four," Kayleigh muttered angrily unable to stop herself. Even amidst all the crap he had going on, Marcus kept throwing shade at Jack. "Four more guys. Jack is coming too. He'd already be here if you hadn't forgotten all about him."

"I didn't know he was coming!" he gritted.

"Of course, he's coming. Why wouldn't he come?"

Gosh, it was hard to keep a cool head around this man.

"I don't know," Marcus replied, stroking his light beard as though lost in concentration. "Because I didn't invite him?"

"No, you didn't. Your best man did!"

Then Chloe, who was observing with mild interest decided she wanted part of the action.

"Why don't you want Jack Monroe to come?" she asked, sipping her French wine, and licking her lips.

To Kayleigh's surprise and relief, Maxine Azera decided to take it upon herself to answer.

"Probably, because he's too level-headed for them."

Max snorted at the obvious sarcasm. "Jack Monroe? Level-headed? Yeah right! Odds are we'll be watching after him!"

The whole table turned towards Max, the same expression of confusion reflected on each face as though they were in a house of mirrors. So, Max went on to explain.

"He might be discreet but he's not exactly a saint. He's had his share of wild nights. We used to go to the same strip clubs," he added with a shrug.

Marcus flexed his fists on the table and his knee started bouncing against Kay's again. Leon's face darkened and Chloe gasped in delight at the promise of new gossip. But Kayleigh merely rolled her eyes. She vaguely thought that perhaps, Max's words should have worried her, but they didn't. Why would they?

He chose to be with her. For some mystifying reason, even after everything she did, even though he could have anyone or anything in the world, he chose to be with her. Really and truly, the only question Max's little revelation triggered was, Why?

But Kay's thoughts were once again interrupted by the sound of Maxine's chair, scraping across the black and white tiles. "You're disgusting!" she spat at the young man. Her expression was an even cross between murderous and hurt as she collected her purse and stormed out of the restaurant.

The people around them weren't just staring anymore. They were snickering, pointing fingers, whispering. They weren't bored anymore. They were seeing through the cracks, getting the show they had hoped for the minute Abigail Kilton and her posse walked in with Marcus Burrows and his crew.

Three waiters came with their starters and silence fell as they placed, with great precision and flourish, little plates with edible sculptures of food in front of them. The head waiter introduced each dish with great meticulous detail, emphasising the freshness and rarity of each ingredient and the exactitude and care taken in preparation. When their performance was ready, they all sat still, waiting for the eyes around them to turn away, ears and lips to return to their own business.

Jean Luc was the first to pick up his knife and fork and pop a reconstructed tomato into his mouth.

"She's right, you know," Abi muttered pointedly to her brother as they all followed suit.

Max exhaled impatiently. "Need I remind you, Little Miss Perfect, that she broke up with me."

"Because you cheated on her!"

Kayleigh kept her eyes on her plate. The juice from her cranberry compote was starting to run, staining the cheese, mixing with the dark, walnut pesto.

"I did not," Max droned as though he was saying it for the hundredth time. "She had already broken up with me-"

"Five minutes! You slept with someone else five minutes after she left! How can you expect her to ever look at you in the same way again?"

"I don't! I just want her to own up to her part in all this because it wasn't just me. Burrows, back me up!"

But Marcus wasn't paying attention. He was too busy studying Kayleigh, who was desperately trying to keep her expression neutral, not wanting anyone to see how every word felt like a knife to the gut.

#

"Kayleigh, relax. Breathe!"

Kayleigh tried to focus on her friend's voice and listen to what she was saying. But it was as though Rosemary was shouting advice all the way from Southwold rather than speaking to her over the phone.

"Jesus, Kayleigh, listen to me. You have to relax. Breathe. Hold it. One, two, three. Exhale."

Kayleigh exhaled loudly as she leaned against the whitewashed wall in the garden of the posh restaurant Victoria Weston had booked on Abigail's orders. She had excused herself from the table, mumbling about fresh air. Obviously, everyone was too preoccupied to notice or care. And yet, she could feel the eyes watching through the wall.

"That's it. Again. Breathe. One, two, three. And let go! Better?"

Kayleigh nodded, even though she wasn't sure. Then she remembered Rosemary couldn't see her.

"Yes," she replied. "Yes, I am. But why the heck did they have to come here?"

"Well, according to your dear brother, it was Burrows's idea. But I'm not sure," Rosemary went on, her voice taking a darker turn. "He's been whining about Burrows not wanting a Bachelor Party for ages so I'm half-certain he coaxed him into going."

"No. He's not lying, Rosemary. Marcus was driving them home after their fitting and he took a left," Kayleigh explained. She had already told her all of this through text, of course. But it was obvious that she needed to hear it.

"He took a left?" she repeated sceptically.

"Or a right. I'm not sure, but it was all him." Kayleigh bit her bottom lip, wondering how honest she should be with her friend. "Listen, you know I am not my brother's biggest fan, and I don't know what you told him, but he's really upset."

"He should be! It was bad enough that you were all having your fun while I was stuck here. Now you're all together!"

"It's not fun! I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd give anything to be back home!" Kayleigh cried. "And Jack's not even here, yet! What am I going to tell him? Abi may have believed Marcus's crap about worrying about us being in Paris while it's flooded with paparazzi, but Jack won't. He's already furious. I can just picture him fuming on the train right now."

"It's not your fault they're there."

"It doesn't matter," Kayleigh sighed getting away from the wall and pacing down the stone, rose-lined path. She touched the petals of a delicate pink rose. It was soft and smooth like velvet. "I know he says that he forgives me and that he trusts me, but how can he after what I did? Why would he? Marcus is right. He's not coming for the Bachelor Party. He's coming to keep an eye on us."

"Why don't you just ask him then?" Rosemary said.

"I did! Several times. He keeps saying that I didn't do anything wrong because we hadn't defined our relationship back then."

"Well, he's right."

Kayleigh let go of the rose but continued to study it. It looked perfect. Symmetrical. Geometric. As though it was manufactured with a compass and ruler.

"Yeah... It doesn't feel that way though," she confessed.

A quiet pause followed, and Kayleigh knew her friend was hesitant to say what was on her mind. Eventually, Rosemary decided to ask, "Why? Are you afraid that he doesn't mean it?"

Kayleigh thought about it. Did she not believe Jack? She tried to remember his words, his voice as he said them, his brown eyes and soft touch as his fingers wiped her tears away.

"No. He means it. He wants to believe I'm perfect, so he does."

"Then, let him believe it. You said you want to give yourself a proper chance with him, and you're not lying to him or tricking him. If he's convinced that he can trust you, why can't you do the same?"

Kayleigh closed her eyes and held her breath again. One. Two. Three. She exhaled and turned back to the glass doors of the restaurant as she pondered on Rosemary's question. Her eyes immediately found Marcus's. She wasn't surprised. She knew he'd been watching her from where he sat.

Rosemary was right. If the person she wronged said it was okay, why was she still so worried?

🥖🗼🥐

And we managed to squeeze in another chapter before the end of the year!

Wishing you all the best my dearies. See you in 2024!