“Thailand?” Susan repeated, struggling mightily to follow him.
“Or somewhere else! Japan, India, some of the Middle East, the States—there are so many amazing places we could go. We could just eat our way across the globe! Let’s do it!”
In her state of mind then, the thought of planning a trip so intricate—sorting out visas and hostels and a dozen different languages—overwhelmed and intimidated her, so she’d just stared at him as he leafed through takeaway menus, gabbling about kebab sauce. But later that day, when she met her aunt for lunch, and Kay innocently asked how things were going, Susan burst into tears.
Babbling almost incoherently about plane tickets and Chris’s hours and her fears, she scared the hell out of Kay. Scared her enough that Kay unearthed herself from her own grief and stepped in. She found a counselor—one of the best—and sent Susan to her (and, not long after, Julia as well).
Kay had dealt with the loss of her sister by throwing herself into her work; taking a role in a film that was shooting in New Zealand. But with principal photography nearly finished, she told the director she was done and settled back down in London, turning down offers of work for the time being, so she could always be available to her nieces. The counseling and having this one steadying influence helped get Susan back on an even keel. At Kay’s suggestion, she moved out of Chris’s flat and into her aunt’s. No longer waiting for the sound of Chris’s footsteps every night, she started sleeping better.
Once it was clear Susan was improving, Kay sat her down for a serious talk about her future.
“He’s a nice boy,” Kay allowed, “but you know how this business is. You’ll be waiting up nights forever. Is that what you want? To always be waiting? You have your own future to consider—you had plans, Susan, and your mother was so excited about them and so happy you were doing so well at school! She’d be so disappointed to see you throw it all away just to sit around, night after night, in some Tottenham flat.”
She pulled Susan close and hugged her. “This whole relationship was formed when your emotions were very high, my dear,” she murmured. “Believe me, I know how that can be—it’s happened to me dozens of times! I’m not saying you have to throw the whole thing away, but perhaps simply take a step back. Give yourselves some space and time to … develop a bit. Grow up, even. Let your life calm down. You’re both so young! You’re just getting out in the world. Let him climb that restaurant ladder, if that’s what he wants to do, and you go back to Cambridge and finish your degree and start your career. And just … see where you both end up.”
Kay toyed for a moment with a cup of tea, then added, “It’s so challenging for a young man in this business to balance those hours with a relationship. He’ll probably thank you for this.”
But—
“He didn’t thank me,” Susan concludes in the story for Gloria. “He really, really didn’t.”
“Well, he should have understood, right?” Gloria asks. “I mean, like you said, he lost a parent, and it’s not like he didn’t know you were grieving. And he must’ve thought you’d go back to school eventually.”
“It wasn’t just that,” Susan sighs. “I handled the whole thing horribly. Really horribly. I went back to his place and packed up the last of my things and just waited for him. I had this whole speech prepared, but when he came through the door … I don’t know, it just went out the window. And I didn’t know what to say, so I just babbled something about space and told him I was sorry, and I just left. I didn’t even have the guts to tell him I was breaking up with him—I didn’t say anything. And he kept trying to phone and text me, and I ignored him, and eventually he stopped.”
“Oh, man,” Gloria breathes, cringing. “You ghosted him?”
“I know! I’m such a bitch! It’s just … I was such a mess. There was all this confusion in my life already after my mum died, and Chris and I—our thing—it was just really, really intense and amazing, and I wasn’t prepared for it and didn’t know how to manage it, so I just ended up fucking the whole thing up.” Susan finishes off the drink, which is definitely not meant to be drunk all in one go. She feels almost instantly tipsy.
“Oh please, everyone’s an arsehole in their twenties,” Gloria reassures her, patting her on the back. “Some never get past that stage, so you’re already doing better than them, right? Aw, don’t beat yourself up. I mean, this was—what, ten years ago? If he’s still holding a grudge over a fling that ended badly a decade ago, he’s got some serious issues.”
“It wasn’t just a fling, though,” Susan sighs. “It definitely wasn’t for me.”
The bartender whisks her empty glass away and immediately replaces it with a full one. Susan knows she shouldn’t, but she starts drinking it anyway.
Gloria scrunches her face sympathetically. “Aw, man, he was your first, wasn’t he?” Off Susan’s look, she nods. “Yeah, those’re tough to shake. Like a bad lurgy, right? Make you feel all sick and dizzy, even after they’re gone. Took me ages to get over my first. Seeing him with another man really helped.”
Susan laughs despite herself.
“You’ll shake him eventually. We all do,” Gloria continues. “We have to, don’t we?”
“Suppose so,” Susan agrees, staring down at her drink.
A moment’s silence, and then Gloria asks, “You want him back?”
Startled, Susan stammers, “No! I mean, I-I don’t know. I don’t really know him anymore, do I? I knew him ten years ago, and he’s done so much since then, he must be different now. And he hates me. Clearly.”
“Maybe he’s just trying to get your attention.”
“By insulting my grandfather’s restaurant?”
“Worked, didn’t it? And I have t’admit, it lit something of a fire under my arse. Don’t you just want to prove him wrong now? I sure as hell do.”
“Yeah,” Susan murmurs, nodding. “Yeah, you know what? I do!”
“Attagirl! And while you’re at it, get out there! Nothing clears a bad dating history like a new one. Go date! Or don’t—just take someone home. That guy at the end of the bar keeps looking at you. He’s cute. Go for it!”
Susan glances toward the end of the bar. A young man with ridiculous cheekbones and brown hair that waves far too perfectly for him to be entirely mortal is having a lively conversation with the bloke sitting next to him. He’s way out of her league.
“You’re seeing things,” Susan says.
“I don’t think so.” Gloria cocks her head and squints. “He look familiar to you?”
Susan looks again. “Kind of. It’s a small city, though. We’ve probably run across him somewhere.”
“I’d remember if I’d seen him somewhere around.” Gloria smirks. “If you won’t have a go at him, I might.”
“You do that, and have fun,” Susan says, slowly getting down from the bar stool and trying not to visibly sway. The room is tilting just a little, and her hands are tingly—a sure sign she’s hovering on the edge of having drunk too much.