‘I wish we could have a cuddle,’ I say.
‘I’m back on Tuesday,’ Dad rallies. ‘Are we still on for pie and mash night?’
‘Yes please. Will you bring some Cornish clotted cream back?’ It’s as if I haven’t indulged enough over the weekend.
Dad laughs. ‘Already earmarked the shop I’ll stop at on the way home,’ he says. ‘Alice?’
‘Yes?’
‘Not everything is black and white. Sometimes, there is joy in the unknown and the unexpected. Sometimes we have to open up our hearts to things that feel scary because if we don’t, we might miss out on the journey of a lifetime. You’ve spent your whole life being strong, I just hate to think that you might miss out on things because of what happened. Ask yourself how Zach makes you feel. What does he bring to your life? Is it brighter and bolder with him in it? Or do you feel happier and more content by yourself?’
I fall silent as I think about what Dad’s said. Zach makes me feel like I can be all the parts of me. The woman with clinical FOMO who is always out and the woman who’s happy pottering around her allotment like a 60-year-old. He makes me laugh so hard I end up doing that weird cry-laugh noise that I used to find embarrassing but he says is endearing. He’s sensitive and thoughtful and, now that I’ve been put on the spot, I do like my life more now that Zach is in it.
I swipe at the tears that are now dribbling under my chin, feeling so caught in my conflicting emotions.
‘I’m just scared, Dad. Of being hurt.’
I can hear the smile in his voice. ‘There’s nothing wrong with that, Alice. I am always here for you and so’s your mum. She’s in your heart and she will help you to make the decision that feels best for you.’
I say my goodbyes and rest my hand over the place I’m pretty sure my heart goes, even though I wasn’t a biology buff at school. Closing my eyes, I listen to the voice in my head.
Don’t let him be the one that gets away.
Netflix
Zach
It’s been three days since we, sorry, I got back from our mini-break and perhaps the most unproductive three days of my career so far, but the fact is that I just can’t focus on work. The canvas remains stubbornly blank. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve stepped away from it, hoping for inspiration to strike, only to find myself staring hopelessly at it once again. I’m too distracted thinking about Alice and whenever my mind lingers on her, I’ll inevitably grab my phone and open up our message chat. The last message I sent her was the night I got back from the Lakes.
Alice, whatever you’re going through, I’m here for you. It seems like you need some space right now but please know that I’m just a phone call away xx
The double tick turned blue tells me she’s read it but she hasn’t replied. And I know I can’t send her another one, because I’m afraid that she’ll think I’m being too intense. So instead I keep reading and re-reading the message, torturing myself with how and why it all went so wrong on our trip. Obviously I did or said something to upset her and even though I was desperate to try and fix it, she could barely get her shoes on fast enough that Sunday morning.
I thought Alice and I had something worth pursuing but maybe I was wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve made a major miscalculation like that.
I chuck my phone back down onto my work bench and take a slug of coffee, which it turns out is cold, so I head over to the kitchen unit in the corner of my studio and tip it down the sink. I’m filling up the kettle when I hear my phone ring and, assuming it’s Ellie ringing to check up on me again, I leave it go for a minute while I put the kettle on.
Eventually I pick it up. Alice’s name flashes on the screen.
A million thoughts race through my head as I answer it, not wanting to let her ring out and make things even worse for myself. Is she going to end this? Is this the call to make it officially over?
Stay strong.
‘Hi, Alice,’ I say, clearing my throat.
‘I’m sorry it’s been a while.’ It’s only been a few days but I’ve missed the sound of her voice.
‘There’s no need to apologise. I figured you needed some space.’
‘Well, thanks Zach, I did and it was sensitive of you to understand that.’ She sighs then and I imagine the words that are about to come next.I’m sorry it’s over. I’ve realised that this isn’t for me. We’re done.
The kettle has started to hiss.
‘Did it help?’ I ask.
‘I think so. I wanted to apologise for leaving our trip like that … with such a bad excuse, I mean.’
‘I can’t say I was totally sold on the “work emergency” thing.’
