Looking through my messages, I remember that I got a text from Dev a couple of days ago – when Callum and I were in Chamonix, behaving practically like a honeymoon couple, what anidiotI was – and I didn’t read it because I wanted to stay in my cocoon.
I’ve actually been neglecting all my friends and family, I realise, barely replying to any messages over the past few days.
Which in practice doesn’t matter, because even though it’s seemed like a long time and it feels to me as though so much has happened, it has in fact only been just over a week, so they won’t really have noticed. But what it does indicate is that I have been ridiculous. It’s like I just walked out of my real life to spend the week with Callum and that is not a sensible thing to do.
I’m too hot. I’m going to go to a café to eat a proper lunch and look through my messages and emails properly then.
Half an hour later, I’m sitting at a table under an awning outside a café with a view over the river, waiting for a tuna niçoise salad, and I open Dev’s message.
I find myself frowning and blinking at what I see. I’m feeling a bit more together now I’ve had some lemonade – I honestly think I was in physical as well as mental shock and needed something sugary – and I didn’t struggletoomuch with deciding on my lunch (helped by going for the set menu, which only has three main options) but I’m struggling to compute Dev’s words.
He says he’s in Paris for work for a few days and he’d like to meet up if I’m still going to be here at the end of my trip. He says he’s really missed me, and to give him a call if I would like, and he wouldreallylike to see me.
I laugh out loud at the sheer ridiculousness of the timing, and the woman on the table next to me smiles across at me and in an American accent says, ‘I’d like to read what you’re reading.’
‘Ha,’ I reply, thinking:No, you really would not.
The waiter puts my salad down in front of me while I’m still staring at my phone and I pick up my cutlery.
By the time I’ve finished the salad, I’ve recovered my wits and I’ve done some thinking and I’ve decided to meet Dev.
I wanted closure with Callum and I got it. I don’t really feel like I need closure from Dev, but maybe he feels like he needs closure from me. We were together for two years. And we were a big part of each other’s lives during that time.
I should meet him.
He replies immediately when I text, and we agree to meet at the Musée d’Orsay in the middle of the afternoon. It’s my suggestion because it’s a museum full of really famous impressionist art that I’d like to see and if things feel awkward between us we’ll have the art to talk about.
And, wow… I think, for me, it’s going to be good seeing Dev. He’s part of my real life; we aren’t together any more but we were recently – as adults (as opposed to Callum and me when we were young) – and we share friends and recent knowledge about each other. This week with Callum has been a weird throwback fantasy and it will be good to put a layer of real life over my memories of him. And hopefully Dev will enjoy seeing me too, and we’ll both have a good afternoon.
Dev and I agree to meet next to a statue of an elephant outside the museum, and, after a bit of confusion where I don’t check the enormous statue I’m standing next to properly and spendageswaiting next to a rhino and we have to exchange calls to find each other, even though we’ve been standing only about twenty feet apart for a good ten minutes, we finally see each other.
My heart doesn’t jump in the way it’s always done when I’ve seen Callum, but I do actually feel pleased to see cheerily smiling, friendly, classically handsome, gorgeously uncomplicated Dev.
I’ve been travelling for four months now, and I realise that I’m ready to go home and be back in my real life, and I’m not really up any more for spending too much time sightseeing alone.
Also, Dev’s always nice to me. He’s pleasant company – quite often great company in fact – justnice.
‘Hey.’ He envelops me in a big bear hug and I cling to him for a moment, kind of for comfort, until I feel guilty that the reason that I need the comfort is Callum, and he is another man, and even though Dev and I split up and for all I know he’s met any number of women since then, I think he might be – would be– hurt that the Callum thing has knocked me a lot more than splitting up with him did.
I pull back and smile at him. ‘Hey.’
‘Good to see you know your elephants from your rhinos.’
‘Ha, yes.’ I keep on smiling. I’mverypleased to see him, I realise. ‘Shall we go in?’
We chat about what Dev’s been up to (the usual basically, but he always has some good stories) and about my travels. Obviously I don’t talk about Callum, because, well, I just can’t right now, plus it clearly wouldn’t be appropriate to talk to Dev about him.
We’re looking at Monet’sWater Lilieswhen I say, ‘Did you know that he painted the same scenes so many times due to an ambition to document the French countryside across different seasons?’
And Dev replies, ‘I really miss you. Would you… consider getting back together?’
I… What? What did he just say?
I feel my eyes swivelling left and right in shock as I keep my head pointed straight ahead at the painting.
Eventually, I ask, ‘What did you say exactly?’
‘Sorry, yes, sorry, that was pretty out of the blue. I just… I miss you so much, Emma, and seeing you… I’d love to get back together. It doesn’t matter that you don’t want to marry me.’
