With my head pressed to the glass, I replayed the morning in my head at least a dozen times, and there wasn’t one iteration where I came out as anything other than awful.
I was awful.
But I was also safe from heartbreak—or so I tried to convince myself.
I glanced at the clock at the front of the coach: 7:47. Where was Lou? I needed her.
People started to file on. By now, every face was familiar and I even knew a few more names, but I wasn’t in the mood for polite niceties. I stared hard out the window until I felt someone sit down next to me.
“Hey,” said Lou gently.
Her kind tone was my undoing. Silent sobs racked my body and I squeaked out, “Oh, Lou.”
She wrapped her arms around me and patted my back and made shushing sounds. I let her. She eventually let me go and pulled a packet of tissues out of her bag. “Here.”
“Thank you,” I said through a nose full of snot. It sounded like “tonk oo”. I blew my nose and wiped my face.
“So, tell me.”
The coach pulled away. I hadn’t even noticed the minutes tick away or the coach filling up, but I was grateful for the droning lull of the engine to mask my words from the people around us. “I tried not to, but I think I hurt him.” I played with a soggy tissue in my lap.
She sighed. “You said the thing about the middle, didn’t you?” I turned to meet her eyes and nodded. “And it’s definitely what you want?”
“I think so. Yes. No, it is what I want.” She gave me the look I’d given other people many times. I was usually the one who counselled, who delivered the doses of tough love, who told it like it was. I probably wasn’t going to like what she had to say.
“You don’t sound particularly sure.”
“I am.” I wasn’t.
I could see the machinations of her thoughts playing across her face. “Okay, so obviously the sex was good.” I nodded like a child. “And you seemed to have a lot of fun with him, there was an ease between you.” It was a statement, not a question. Still, I continued to nod. “And how was the conversation?”
I considered the last two days and smiled involuntarily as I recalled the quips, the banter, the teasing. There had also been more important conversations about where our lives had gone, where they might be heading.
“Good. We talked—a lot.”
“So, the friendship is there, the attraction is there, but …” She left the thought unfinished, but with her stating it so simply, I had a sickening realisation.
“I am afraid of the middle,” I said to myself.
“Say again?”
“Jean-Luc said I was afraid of love, but I’ve been telling myself I’m not afraid. All I want is to protect myself from something that kicked the living daylights out of me. I thought I was being smart—brave even.”
“You can only really be brave if you feel the fear and do it anyway. Brave people aren’t fearless people. They’re brave because they’re scared and they don’t let the fear stop them.”
I digested what she’d said. I didn’t like being wrong, but it made sense. “That … it’s really astute, Lou.”
She laughed lightly. “Well, we can thank Susan Jeffers for the catchphrase, but yeah, the sentiment is well-founded.”
“So, I’m not brave, I’m a big fat coward.” Self-pity crept back in.
“Well, you’re not big or fat.” I looked at her, shocked she would be so harsh, but the kind smile on her face disarmed me. “How did you leave things?”
“Badly. It was a total palaver.”
“And that means …?”
“I told him I just want to be friends, even though he wants to see where things can go. And from what he’s said over the past couple of days … well, he’s alluded to us being together, you know, together together.”
“And you told him outright that you don’t want that?”
“Yes.”
There was no more supposing. I had definitely hurt him. Again.
“I don’t even know if we’re still friends.” I was awash with shame and regret and confusion. Convinced I was doing the right thing, I had done the wrong thing and I’d probably lost my friend. You stupid cow, Cat.
“Oh,” I said, suddenly remembering the letter. I took it out of my bag. “And he gave me this.” I held up the offending item and frowned at it.
“Is that …?” she said, taking it from me and reading the return address on the envelope.
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“As if I didn’t feel bad enough.”
She nodded solemnly. “Oh, Cat. This is quite the dilemma.” Coming from Lou, a professional counsellor, it was not soothing.
If anything, my inner turmoil was increasing tenfold every time I remembered the look on Jean-Luc’s face that morning as I’d broken his heart, or how his arms felt around me when he said goodbye, or how wonderful it felt to snuggle up in the crook of his arm in our huge bed. Our bed.
“I’ve completely cocked this up,” I declared, more to myself than to Lou. She was quiet, so I knew she agreed. People who don’t agree with you when you’re self-flagellating say so.
“Do you want a distraction? Some gossip?” Lou asked. Lou didn’t strike me as the gossiping type, but perhaps she was delving into her stash of desperate measures.
“God, yes.”
She ignored the “God” part. “Well, Georgina was essentially AWOL for the past two days.”
“Oh, really? How do you know?”
“You know how she was upset about the lion monument?” I nodded. “Well, I overhead one of the reps saying she called head office and asked to be taken off the tour.”
“What? What do you mean? We’re not that bad.” I recalled how snarky I’d been. Maybe I had been a little hard on her.
I half-stood in my seat and saw Georgina reflected in the giant mirror hanging above the dashboard. It was there so she could see the length of the coach without turning around, but it also meant we could see her no matter where we sat. “She’s here, though. She’s up the front.”
“I know. They must have told her no.”
“Actually, I didn’t see her at the party last night.”
“None of us saw her after we arrived on Saturday.”
“What day is it?”
“Seriously? It’s Monday,” she replied.
“You haven’t lost track of the days once—on this whole tour?”
“Nope.”
“Well, good for you.” She took the jibe with her usual good humour. The news about Georgina had done the trick, though. I had been pulled out of the maelstrom of emotions threatening to suck me under.
“Where are we going again?” I asked.
“Germany.” Oh, right.
Georgina pressed play on the day song. “Because I’m happy … blahdeblahblahblah …” I was really starting to hate that song. When it ended, she stood up to tell us about the day. She looked terrible and that said a lot considering my wretched state. Even from the back of the coach I could see she hadn’t bothered with makeup and had dark circles under her eyes. What on earth was going on with her?