Dumped, Actually(91)

I swivel on the ball of my foot and start towards the door. As I do, I catch sight of the look on Erica’s face as she watches me go. Her mouth is agape.

I give her a little wink and march out of the boardroom, with that shark’s smile still on my face.


Once I step into the lift that’ll take me back down to the car park, though, the strength goes out of my legs completely. I managed to keep the pretense up for long enough, but now I’m on my own, and don’t have to perform for anyone any more, reality is reasserting itself.

My hands start to shake uncontrollably, and I can feel my heart hammering out of my chest.

What the hell did I just do?

You took a stand, mate. And it was glorious!

Maybe so, but I’m now in severe danger of having an accident in my underpants.

The lift reaches the lower ground floor, and I emerge from it on wobbly legs. I make it back to the BMW and am incredibly grateful to find that Erica forgot to lock it in the rush to get upstairs. I collapse into the passenger seat and take several deep breaths.

All the techniques I learned at Lizzy Moore’s mindfulness classes come back to me, and within ten minutes or so I have control of my body back.

I look up again as I hear the lift bing open and see Erica hurrying over to the car.

I climb out as she reaches it and go to meet her behind it. There’s a hectic look on her face, and her hair has gone the deepest shade of red I think I’ve ever seen.

‘They’ve . . . They’ve voted,’ she says breathlessly.

‘And?’

She shakes her head in disbelief. ‘Nine to three against closing down Actual Life!’ she cries with joy, and throws her arms around me. ‘You did it, Ollie! You did it!’

‘We did it,’ I reply, my head buried in the wealth of her auburn hair.

Erica moves her head away, but doesn’t release me from her embrace. ‘I’ve never seen anything like that. I’ve never seen anyone stand up to Benedict like that.’

‘You did,’ I tell her. ‘You stopped him on that boardroom table.’

‘Well, maybe. But I’ve never shouted him down like that. I’ve never turned the tables on him like that, either.’ She smiles at me. ‘Who are you, and what have you done with Oliver Sweet?’

I smile back. ‘Still me, I assure you. I nearly crapped my pants once I got out of there.’

Erica laughs.

And then she kisses me.

It’s a strong kiss, full of a passion and desire I had no idea was there.

I respond in kind, because let’s face it, I feel exactly the same way about her.

So . . .

Here it is, then.

A moment that has been coming down the tracks for a long time now, I think. A moment that anyone with a good handle on these things would have seen coming from at least two chapters of ‘Dumped Actually’ ago.

Erica is the right woman for me. And I’m pretty sure I’m the right man for her. I didn’t realise it until this kiss, but I know I’m right. She probably feels the same way too. This kiss is certainly telling me as much.

Our relationship has been founded on mutual trust, respect and a strong friendship. One that not even someone as forceful and powerful as Benedict Montifore could undermine.

Without Erica, I doubt I would have been able to grow as much as I have done. Without her, there would be no version of Ollie Sweet who could do what he just did.

Of course I should be with her. Of course we should be together.

It just feels right, doesn’t it?

It’s just meant to be.

I stop kissing Erica, and gently push her away.

She looks confused. ‘Ollie? I’m sorry. I thought . . . I thought you wanted this.’

I nod, tears forming in the corners of my eyes. ‘I do, Erica. I truly do.’ I take her hand. ‘You’re an amazing person. I would love to be with you . . . and for the first time in my life, I actually believe I deserve to be with someone like you.’

She’s crying a little too, now. Her eyes glimmer with a light that I could fall into for a thousand years. ‘So be with me, Ollie,’ she says, her hand tightening on mine. ‘Will you do that?’

I look into her eyes – a thousand possibilities, a thousand futures hanging in the balance of the words I say next.

‘No.’ I close my eyes. ‘I can’t, Erica. Not now.’

‘Why?’ The look of rejection in her eyes is unbearable.

‘Because I’m not ready, Erica. I’m not . . . I’m not there yet.’ I let go of her hand and step away. ‘So much has changed for me . . . but I know I’m not done changing yet. Do you understand?’

Erica nods slowly, tears coursing down her cheeks.

‘I would love to be with you more than anything – but if I do it now . . . if I do it too soon . . . it won’t be right. It won’t be right for you. And it won’t be right for me.’

Erica breathes a deep sigh. ‘I understand,’ she says.

Well, of course she does. This is Erica Hilton we’re talking about.

‘I just need more time,’ I explain. ‘I’m on the right path, but it’s one I have to be on alone. At least for now.’

I’m hating myself for saying all of this, but I equally know that what I’m saying is absolutely correct. If I can’t be happy on my own, there’s no way I can be happy with anyone else. I have to stand upright by myself, so I don’t need to lean on someone else.