‘You’re right– it’s not. But that was Lucy. I mean, you know what she’s like.’
‘You could say that.’ I try to cut the resentment from my tone, but it seeps out like venom. His eyes widen awkwardly before dropping back to nervously seeking solace in his glass.
Lucy and I ended up forming a surprising friendship in the year we spent living next door to each other. Or, at least, enough of an acquaintanceship that meant she could relieve herself of all claims of animosity. But it was a plaster on a deep, wide-open wound, which she took great pleasure in ripping off the first chance she got.
I feel his eyes flit over my pursed lips, notice the dipped eyebrows, and come to a rest as they count my shaky breaths. He motions to speak, and my body grows ice cold at the thought of him addressing the elephant in the room.
‘I am sorry about what happened at May Madness,’ he says gently. ‘I was going through a lot and I needed to blow off some steam. And back then, steam meant going out with Luce. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I wasawful. I know it now and I knew it back then too. That’s why, when I saw you in that boardroom, I thought it’d be better to just pretend I didn’t remember you like that.’
My chest has grown tighter, my breath shortening. . . I can’t relive this yet. Not in this pub, not tonight.
‘It’s fine,’ I say.
He hangs his head low, storming ahead in a rush to get the words out. ‘No, it’s not. It shouldn’t be and I am sorry.’
‘Honestly, it’s fine, let’s just drop it. And I’m sorry about Lucy.’ I reach for my glass, quickly taking a sip before nodding heartily at him in solidarity. ‘From what I’ve gathered, relationships aren’t all they’re cracked up to be anyway.’
He laughs this time.Bellows.The sound echoing against the wood and vibrating through both me and the booth.
‘Sorry,’ he eventually manages to say. ‘I don’t buy that for asecond.’
I squeal as he continues to laugh back at me. ‘It’s true!’
I want to be angry, resent him, even just conjure a frown, but the light in his face forces the corners of my mouth up to my cheeks. I missed the warmth of his eyes and the joyous crook of his brow when we ventured into the May Madness drama. If you ask me, that’s even more reason to never bring it up again.
‘I had something serious-ish with someone last year and it pretty much solidified that the whole song and dance isn’t worth it,’ I say.
‘Sure, uh-huh. And yet your five-year plan says you should. . .’
‘Be with a partner that I could consider marrying by thirty. I’m aware.’
He smirks triumphantly, bowing in his seat and accepting accolades from an imaginary crowd. I slap him lightly on the arm just to make it stop. It doesn’t work, because his arm’s pure muscle and it stops me in my tracks. He laughs some more.
‘So, tell me, Maddy. Is this future husband of yours falling from the sky?’
‘Hey, it’s not that easy!’ I try to argue with intention, but my tone falls hilariously short. I can’t stop smiling at his stupid face. I blame the booze. ‘As you can imagine, there’s a whole list of boxes I need to have ticked.’
He nods mock-militantly. ‘All dutifully committed to notebook number three?’
‘Number four is for the lists, actually.’ I take a huge gulp of my drink, noisily slurping the dregs with the straw as he pretends to take a mental note. ‘But before I can even get to the list, I need to find a man that’s attracted to me. That part is, well, if I’m being honest, currently quite thin on the ground.’
He laughs even louder, still light and hearty in its tone, but now callous given the circumstances.
‘Is my lack of appealfunnyto you?’ I ask in disbelief.
I knew it was too good to be true– a couple of shared drunk laughs do not negate who he was and always will be. A prick from primary school who spent years of his life withLucy Hayward, the one person I may dislike more than him.
He freezes the second he notices my scowl, his smile dropping just as quickly. He shifts in his seat to face me as straight on as he can. Our knees brush as he turns.
‘OK, no. Never. What is funny to me is that you actually believe that you lack appeal.’
I blink back at him confused.
‘Really, you’re gonna make me do this?’ he asks, eyebrow raised sceptically.
I continue to scowl, mind racing to decipher this new riddle.
‘Oh, you seriously don’t get it.’ He tuts. ‘Tonight alone, I have watchedat leastfour men in this place almost break their neck trying to watch you walk.’
