Sam looked deep into my eyes. ‘I’m in love with you, Jess.’ He smiled. ‘I am.’
‘I’m in love with you too,’ I whispered back, despite being mere inches away from his parents. Out of the corner of my eye I could see both of them stir, but my focus remained on him. He leaned in to give me a parent-appropriate peck on the lips. The moment stretched on before it was finally broken by a throat-clearing cough from John and an apologetic flurry of, ‘I guess we need some bubbles to celebrate?’
Chapter 11
2 August 2020 – Sydney, Australia
‘Jess… I…’ Sam began to stutter, taking another sip of champagne. I took another gulp.
‘How dare you?’ I hissed under my breath. ‘How dare you invite me into your home with her and let me use your room and pretend everything is so totally completely normal only to have Jamie tell me – not you, Jamie – that the two of you are engaged?’
‘Jess, I…’ Sam repeated again; he always did forget his lines. ‘I tried to tell you but then…’
‘You said you were home alone most of the time—’
‘I told you there were two of us,’ he argued back, knowing he hadn’t said enough.
‘You should have told me more. You should have told me everything,’ I whispered furiously, knowing I had already said too much.
‘I tried to tell you, last night, I tried, but then—’
‘You should have tried to tell me again.’ I knew Sam would do anything to keep the peace, to please anyone, everyone – but for a smart guy he didn’t seem to realise you couldn’t do that without tying yourself in knots. ‘Just tell the truth, for once.’ The irony of the comment wasn’t lost on me, but right then I felt I was less guilty than him.
‘Jess, I think you are overreacting.’ Sam looked shiftily across the courtyard.
I knew I was overreacting. And yet, I didn’t care. I didn’t give a shit. I took another gulp.
‘Overreacting? How would you feel?’ I said, leaning in further still. ‘You bump into me, looking great…’ Sam grinned for a moment before my glare took the expression straight off his face. Now wasn’t the time for all his misplaced flirtation, if it had ever been there in the first place. ‘And you tell me not to worry, I can come back to yours and drink wine – and then you offer me the spare room but neglect to tell me you have a live-in fucking fiancée.’ I winced at my final words. I couldn’t help it; tears were starting to prick in my eyes.
‘Jess, it’s been years. I know we ended badly but I didn’t think it would affect you so much.’
‘Then why didn’t you tell me?’ I asked. ‘If it was such a non-thing, if we were such a non-thing, then why didn’t you tell me about Jamie the second you invited me back to yours?’
‘Because…’ Sam stuttered, eyes darting around the room for his fiancée to return.
‘Because what, Sam?’ I snapped. ‘Tell me why I’ve had to fake my “I’m so happy” face whilst I feel this small.’ I gestured, pinching my finger and thumb together, my hand shaking. ‘I wish you’d just told me, so I could have avoided this situation entirely.’
Overreacting was now an understatement, but between the anger and the champagne bubbling in my stomach I was finding it impossible to stop.
‘That’s the point,’ Sam said. ‘I didn’t want you to avoid my place. Jess, I’ve missed—’
‘Jamie!’ I exclaimed, seeing her three feet away from the table.
‘We ordered?’ She looked from me to Sam. Say something, Sam, say something. And not that you miss me. Not as we are toasting your engagement. Why was I here, in this impossible situation? It had been years. And yet, it still meant something to me. And looking over to Sam, all panic and confusion, it looked like it still meant something to him too. But what did that matter now?
‘No, baby,’ Sam said, looking from Jamie to me, his lady to his tramp. I bit back angry tears, trying not to cry. I wouldn’t give him the pleasure, never ever again.
‘No worries,’ Jamie replied. She looked around the room and two seconds later our orders were taken. Five minutes later our food had arrived – I suspect stolen from some less attractive diners who would now have to wait another forty minutes for theirs. Two salads and a burger and fries. If I was going to sit through a dinner with my ex-boyfriend and his fiancée, I sure as hell wasn’t going to do it eating a salad. I took a gulp of my wine. And another, and another, just enough to turn their chatter into white noise.
‘So tomorrow, nine a.m.,’ Jamie’s voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked into her perfect face, now slightly blurred. Another gulp.
‘Huh?’ I asked, as I slapped away the waiter’s ever-attentive hands; there were five fries left on my plate. You could take my boyfriend, Sydney, but you’d never take my fries.
‘Your first day at CreateSpace? You’ll arrive at nine a.m.? Sam and you can carpool.’ Jamie smiled, entirely unaware that anything or anyone around her was anything but perfect.
‘Oh no, I’ve put you out too much already.’ I shook my fuzzy head. ‘I’ll make my own way there.’ And once I’ve earned just a little bit of money I’ll be out of your stupid hospitable apartment and stupid hospitable lives for good. Less than one week to sort it out and get out.
‘Jess, did you not just hear me say?’ Sam asked. Evidently not, Sam. ‘My surgery is pretty much next door to CreateSpace, in Woolloomooloo.’ Was I the only one who couldn’t say it?
‘No seriously, it’s okay.’ I fixed my stare on Sam, eyes telling him to back off in the subtlest of ways; I knew he could feel it but was pushing for me to accept the lift, to pretend – for his sake or Jamie’s – that nothing was wrong.
‘I’ll be driving that way anyway, I can show you the area, make sure you’re on time…’ Sam said, his eyes begging me to let him make everything okay again. Something told me he wouldn’t let it go, that all of this was signalling, screaming: he couldn’t let us go. But what did that matter now? He was getting married.
‘Jess?’ Sam asked again, pleading for me not to make a scene.
‘Yes, yes, fine,’ I said, a little too abruptly. ‘Me and Sam. Carpool. Woolloo— tomorrow.’ They smiled knowingly. Me and Sam. In a confined space. Alone. Where he could finally explain himself, and finish that sentence. I’ve missed… I’ve missed…
Chapter 12
3 August 2020 – Sydney, Australia
I’ve missed my alarm.
‘Jess? Jess?’ I could hear Sam on the other side of the door. ‘Can I come in?’
‘No!’ I shout-whispered, clambering out of bed and accidentally knocking Jamie’s photo off the bedside table as I did. Shit.
‘What was that?’ Sam hissed.
‘Nothing, nothing,’ I assured him as I collected the shards of glass that had broken in the frame. Rushing to the mirror, I smoothed down my hair. Unlike yesterday morning, today was not a good make-up-less day. Today was a hungover, far from Clinique-d, slightly green-looking make-up-less day. How much had I drunk? The fact I couldn’t remember told me all I needed to know. I didn’t have time for this.