Oops

Tuesday, the day Alex was to move into his mate's place, was a different story.
I was on a corner of Lygon St, walking towards Melbourne Uni with some women in chains in tow, posing as slaves, when my mobile phone rang. I answered the unfamiliar number neutrally.
“Hello, Lily speaking.”

The voice that answered me was so sharp it could cut your throat.
“Hi Lily, this is Natasha, Alex's girlfriend.”

My stomach sunk into my shoes, my legs felt dead, my hands started to shake and perspire and not much of the world made sense anymore as my brain went instantly numb. I barely remember the conversation. I do remember that I calmly responded,
“Hi Natasha, how are you?”

Normally good at lying, improvisation and remaining somewhat calm under questioning, that one polite reply was all I could muster before things fell apart. I remember thinking how bright the sun was and how Lygon St was so busy and how I mustn’t let the people I was working with hear the conversation. What I needed to think was, “deny everything” but it didn’t cross my mind.

Natasha interrogated me briefly. All I could manage was one and two and three word answers, like a dumb thirteen year old in an adult situation she doesn’t understand. They were the wrong answers though.

When I had filled out the contact form on Alex's website to let him know I wouldn’t sleep with anyone at the snow the email had arrived in both Alex and Natasha's inboxes, as Alex was using an email address on Natasha's company’s server at the time.