Read Me Without You for Free Online

view, and had probably worked hard enough that he deserved to enjoy a sparkling water vista if he ever did his own dishes.
    What I did understand, though, was that anyone with the determination to believe so completely in something, and the will to fight for it like Lilah clearly had, was not going to understand my lack of comprehension. So I whistled, as if I was as awed by the tree as I was by her, and I shook my head slowly.
    ‘That’s a real beauty. Two hundred years old you say?’
    ‘We think so, yes.’ She stared in silence for a moment, as if paying her respects. ‘I knew you’d understand if you saw it. Some things you just have to experience for yourself, don’t you?’
    My gaze had wandered back down the hill, and landed on her face.
    ‘You’re absolutely right.’
----
    J ust like I couldn’t remember agreeing to go to the beach, I couldn’t remember discussing where we were walking to, but I knew our goal was my apartment. We walked faster this time, perhaps spurred on by the rising heat between us, or maybe even the practical discomfort of dripping clothes and a cold winter’s night. Our conversation came in bursts, a short sentence and a short response, and then only the sound of our breath as we walked at a slightly uncomfortable pace.
    When I finally opened the door to my apartment and we stepped inside, Lilah immediately dropped her skirt onto the floor in a shower of sand. I sat my keys onto the hallstand and tried to contain my shock and delight.
    She gave me that quizzical glance I was already becoming familiar with, as if my reaction was the only strange thing that was happening at the time, and wandered further into my apartment wearing her suit jacket and underpants.
    ‘You weren’t kidding when you said you were mid-renovation, were you?’ she remarked. She bent to run her hand over the heavy wooden coffee table I’d paid a fortune for, inadvertently giving me a delightful view of her sand-sprinkled thighs and buttocks. ‘Nice coffee table. Where’s the bedroom?’
----
    T he next day I woke up excited and it felt strange. Life wasn’t exciting to me anymore, and it hadn’t been for a long time. Lilah really had been wrong when she said I was bored, and I certainly wasn’t unhappy—I’d just achieved everything I wanted to, and then I’d fallen into a holding pattern.
    Lying there, with the scent of Lilah on my sheets, I felt something within me coming back to life. It was the tinniest green bud on the starkly bare branch, but it was still there, and I knew that it could flourish into something remarkable.
    I realised as soon as I opened my eyes that she was already gone. Lying in bed, I scanned the room for some physical sign that she’d really been there, but the shirt by the door… the jacket by my bed… her handbag in the space where my built-in-wardrobe would go one day… it was all gone.
    I showered and dressed for work, forcing an inner monologue about the day’s meetings and deadlines so the disappointment didn’t have any room to rise. I had artwork to review with one team, a pitch presentation I needed to start, and a new client to court. I needed to talk to HR about filling that copywriting position and write the performance management plan for the researcher who was giving me headaches. The board meeting was only a week away and I still wasn’t sure if I should recommend adopting the proposed IT budget for next year. So much to do, so little time, especially after a totally unproductive night.
    It was only as I stepped onto the ferry and caught myself scanning the peak-hour crowd for a glimpse of her that I acknowledged the heavy feeling in my gut.
    I didn’t want to be Lilah’s one-night stand—but the worst thing was, I hadn’t expected to be. I’d been caught completely off guard, and it stung that I’d made myself vulnerable enough to feel so disappointed after just one night.

2
    Lilah
    2 6 August
    It’s seven a.m. and I find myself at the café