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Chloe stares at me. She’s frozen on the spot. And I recognise it. Those worried eyes. That flushed skin. It took over two years for me to be ‘over’ my break-up. And Chloe is only months in. She still feels that hold, that grip. She closes her eyes.
‘Millie. It was me.’
I freeze now, both of us like two mannequins, one in the doorway, one on the threshold, two people on either side of a looking glass. A mirror image.
‘Sorry?W-whatwas you?’
‘I sent the emails, Millie,’ says Chloe. ‘I’m so sorry. It was me.’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I’m meeting Chloe at the end of Avenue Road, where are there are two benches and endless uninterrupted views of the estuary. She told me she was at Owen’s picking up the last of her things. ‘I can’t be here when he gets back,’ she said. ‘Neither can you.’
Petra’s true crime podcast plays as we drive. ‘Her heart was found outside of her body,’ says the ominous voice through the phone. ‘And her family were quoted as saying, it was a betrayal she could have never seen coming.’
All Petra does is shake her head. ‘Chloe?’ she keeps saying, over murderous details. ‘Chloe?’
Minutes later, I stand in front of one of the benches, the metal balcony in front of me. Wind whips through my hair, salted, iced air. Chloe pulls her car behind mine. She gets out and approaches me, nervously, the way you do when you’re too scared to walk to close to the edge of somewhere steep. She looks like she might burst into tears. Behind us, the sea is black.
‘I’m so sorry,’ says Chloe, the wind carrying her words away. ‘I really didn’t mean to hurt you, Millie.’
‘I don’t understand,’ I say. And it’s true. I’ve been playing Chloe’s words over and over in my head as I drove here, but I still can’t work them out. How is this happening? Why on earth would Chloe do this? I’ve spent weeks trying to convince her; tofixthis. ‘Owen’s car was there,’ I say, weakly.
‘I drove Owen’s car,’ she says, simply. ‘I’ve been so scared you’d find out. Thatsomeonewould. I worried what everyone would think of me, that I’d lose my job, that—.’
‘Ihave been worrying about those things, Chloe,’ I call over the wind, the low, rumbling waves, unseen in the darkness. ‘I have had months of my life, consumed by it. I’ve driving myself crazy with it all and all the while .?.?. I don’t understand.’
Chloe’s chin dimples, bottom lip, wobbling, like a child’s. ‘I know. Oh, gosh, Millie. And it was really never meant to happen like that. At first, I was just going to send one. The invitation reply. And then I thought, well, that would look so suspicious, wouldn’t it? So, I panicked, and just sent loads. So it looked like some sort ofbugor something? I know I sound unhinged. Believe me, nobody is more ashamed than me.’
I stare at her. Wind lifts our hair from our faces and Chloe clutches the coat around her like it’s the only thing keeping her standing upright.
‘Why did you do it?’ I ask, my own voice wobbling now. ‘I never did anything to you.’
Chloe’s close eyes, her nostrils flaring. ‘Because I wanted out, Millie,’ she says. My heart stills. What? ‘We’d broken up. It was horrendous. Just fight after fight, him .?.?.gaslightingme. Doing things and denying it,laughingat me, pretending I was going crazy, and I left. This was about .?.?. three weeks before we got engaged. But then he came back. Tail between his legs. And God .?.?.’ She brings two hands two to her face now, lets out a sound that’s half cry, half exasperated, angry growl. And all I can think of is this is what he has done. This is what Owen has reduced her to. Us. ‘Millie he wassoconvincing,’ she cries, dropping her hands from her face. ‘He had a ring. A ring he’d gone out and chosen with his mum. She was there. The whole family was there. His and mine. And he proposed. On one knee and everything. He’d got my cousin to video it. They even put it on YouTube.’ She winces – something that looks like a mix of pain and dark amusement. ‘And I really thought it was it. That he was genuinely changed and – I loved him so much. vinegar, hangs in the air I .?.?.stilllove him so much.’
‘God. Chloe .?.?.’ I don’t know what to say. Words fail me. I stand, empty, in the wind, no words, no clear thoughts. One gust, and I feel like I might be carried away into the blackness of the sky, like a paper bag.
‘So, of course I said yes. And my family .?.?.’ She laughs. ‘I was engaged before. A few years ago. A nice enough guy, but I was young and – you know how it is?’ She swipes tears away roughly, goes back to hugging herself as if she daren’t fully let herself go. ‘But my family, they’re very .?.?. traditional. They hated that I called an engagement off. Embarrassing, isn’t it? I’d broken up with him just before I came to Flye. And it was a new start, and I was convinced everything would be OK. Then I moved departments and .?.?. became friends with Owen.’
I swallow.
‘I remember.’
Chloe nods. ‘I know. And – Millie, he painted this picture. That you were hard to live with, that he wasn’t happy, that you weren’t like me.’
That hurts. Really hurts. That I was probably trundling along, in love, and he was out there, telling a story.His story.
Chloe screws her face up. ‘I hate thinking back to that time. How naïve I was. But the thing is with Owen, he always makes it out to be other people. When we broke up, before he proposed, he mademeapologise. For pushing him. For pushing his buttons. And everyone sort of gave me this look. Thisphew, at least you didn’t push him away entirely look, because what a catch! Because he does that. People like Owen. He’s charming and clever. They look up to him.’
Someone walks by in the darkness, talking on the phone. He’s holding an open bag of chips, the pungent smell of salt and vinegar, hangs in the air like vapour. A nice smell. A homely smell. But right now, it smells ominous. Everything feels ominous.
‘And as soon as that ring was on my finger, as soon as my mum and dad were booking the bloody golf club all my brothers have been married in, I .?.?. Millie, I couldn’t breathe. I knew I’d made a mistake. Because I knew he was – manipulative. Abusive. And I knew he was cheating on me. And I thought it was with you.’
‘Me?’
‘I know it wasn’t now,’ implores Chloe, and she steps towards me, boots scraping on the path. ‘I don’t know who it was. But he was texting a lot and he stank of perfume after coming back from the gym once and he kept talking about you. Deliberate, I think. Keep me on my toes. And the more the wedding things were getting booked, the more nervous I was getting, but I thought – how can I call it off? He’ll vilify me. Everyone will think it’s me. Oh, here she goes, calling off another engagement. And how could I face my family again? All my friends, everyone Iknow.’
‘But are you even sure he was cheating? Were you even remotely sure before you used me? You put me in the firing line, and—’
