At six thirty her phone chimed.
Can we meet at Anthony’s?
Sophie paused only a second before typing in the word, ‘Okay’.
She didn’t even bother putting any make-up on or doing much with her hair. One didn’t need to get dressed up to be dumped. When she arrived at Anthony’s, a favourite place of theirs, half an hour later, he was already sitting at a table, nervously fingering his glass, and she hated it. Because Sophie was still attracted to him, and deep down, she just wanted them to stay together. Who else understood? Or shared their memories? Was wanting that so wrong? He was her last connection with their daughter. Taking in a deep breath, Sophie pushed her way into the busy bar. The sound of eighties music pumped out through the speakers, and the Friday evening chatter as people prepared for the weekend was lively and raucous. As she made her way through the crowd, the room was stiflingly hot with the smell of alcohol and sweat mingled with aftershave. Matt greeted her with a nod of acknowledgement as Sophie made her way to the table where he was sitting. He’d chosen this place on purpose, she knew. Not some quiet restaurant where every word could be heard, but a place he could say what he needed to say and exit quickly.
At the table, Matt stood up. It felt awkward, she didn’t know what to do. He took the initiative and hugged her. She noticed as he did she started shaking inwardly and her body felt limp, as if all her energy were draining out straight through her feet. Hurriedly, she sat down.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ he asked.
‘White wine, the usual,’ she shouted over strains of Culture Club.
He nodded and disappeared, and she swallowed down the tears that were about to get the better of her as she sat there. He arrived back with her glass of wine and placed it in front of her. He seemed nervous.
As he sat down, Sophie felt a sudden sense of icy calm, and decided she would take control. Up until now, he’d had the upper hand in this situation, but she was done with that.
‘Listen, Matt, I don’t want to draw this out. It’s obvious that things between us are over. I know why it happened but now I want to know when, and for how long?’
He fingered the stem of his glass again and took a large swig of his red wine before he answered her.
‘God, Sophie, I’m so sorry. I don’t know where to begin.’
‘Why don’t you start with Mandy?’ she demanded sharply, and his eyes flicked up to meet hers.
He nodded, looking down at his hands. ‘We met about three months ago. She was new at the Exchange, and I helped her out navigating her way around our procedures. It can be challenging in a business with mainly men. But nothing was going on. I swear we were just friends. She had a boyfriend, and you and I were together. We had a passing acquaintance, but nothing serious, just friendship.’
His words tweaked at Sophie’s heart. It sounded familiar, like the beginning of their own relationship.
He continued, ‘Anyway, six weeks ago, while we were both still having such a hard time, she and her boyfriend split up, and though I didn’t want to socialise, I just offered to take her out for a drink to cheer her up. We got talking. You know, we both do the same job, we have a lot in common. Anyway, I thought no more of it. I hugged her goodbye that night, but nothing more, I swear. But after that things… developed.’
‘Oh, didn’t they just?’ said Sophie, hating herself for allowing the sarcasm to reveal her pain.
His shoulders slumped forward as he nodded his head.
‘And?’ Sophie continued, she needed to know it all.
‘Well, the truth is I think I love her, Sophie. I honestly tried not to. I tried not to let those feelings happen.’
‘How noble,’ stated Sophie sarcastically. ‘And you couldn’t have come to me and talked before now?’
‘I wanted to, trust me. You can’t believe how many times I tried to tell you about it. But whenever I saw the pain you were still going through, that I was still going through, I just couldn’t add any more. I kept thinking soon we will be over all of this grief and I can tell her…’ His voice drifted off and he took a large swig of his drink.
Sophie wiped away the tears that had brimmed up. Angry at herself, she had wanted to look strong, didn’t want to look like the one who’d been dumped. ‘Well, that’s that then, isn’t it?’ She forced out a strong tone. ‘You’ve moved on, and now you’ve sorted out your problem with me as well.’
He looked up sharply, appearing to want to protest her harsh view of their situation. But gave up without saying a word to rebut her claim. He just stared at her, all the sadness and guilt of their situation in his expression.
Sophie knocked back the rest of her drink and stood up. He stood up too.
‘Please, don’t let us part like this. This is why I hadn’t said anything yet. I wanted to find a way for us to still be friends. Could we still try to do that?’
Sophie swallowed down her anger and hurt. ‘I don’t think so, Matt. You may have been in love with someone else for weeks. I’m not sure I want someone in my life who spent any time in love with somebody else and didn’t tell me, who can forget me and the family we… once had. Just like that.’
He flinched with the reality of her words, but said nothing, just nodded sadly.
Sophie grabbed her bag and made her way towards the door, turning briefly to see him standing there watching her, and she hated the hurt on his face. She could only imagine it reflected the same on hers.
That journey home Sophie was numb. She knew now. There was also something of a relief in that they were definitely over. She had wondered for a while. At least knowing, she could start to try to work out how to move on, on her own.
She held in her tears until she got home, then, exhausted, threw herself in bed, sobbing, not even bothering to undress. She curled into a ball as William rubbed his nose around her face, his purr loud and reassuring. Finally completely spent, her throat dry and raspy from crying, she passed out, though she didn’t sleep for longer than a few hours at a time. The pain of her year of grief and now the end of her relationship made her desperate and edgy and every time she woke up, it was with a jolt, and she’d start sobbing again.
The final time she fell asleep, she had a dream that left her shaken when she woke. In it her mother had come to her, and running her fingers through her hair had whispered, ‘Everything is going to be all right, Sophie, I promise you that.’ And, sobbing, Sophie had hugged her so tightly it had felt real. But then when she pulled away from her to wipe her eyes she saw her mother had morphed into her great-aunt Vivienne and though she didn’t say anything there had been this pleading look in her eyes, as though she needed Sophie to help her in some way. And even in her dream something had struck her. The feeling of the not-knowing was the worst part of it all. Not knowing for weeks about Matt’s secret relationship; there was the same not knowing about her aunt. Everyone seemed to just accept she was a traitor and as she looked at her aunt’s face in her dream, she felt this odd pull into the past. As though in finding out what really happened during the war would also help her find her own balance again. She needed everything in her life, including her history, to make sense. Or the future was just an impossible unknown.