‘So maybe it’s not the career that’s the problem,’ Sarah suggests. ‘Maybe it’s just this job?’
‘Well, you were hardly changing the world at Kensington Fox and you were happy there, right? And I mean, what else could you do?’ Matt asks. ‘Work for a non-profit? Those gigs pay peanuts.’
‘Money isn’t everything, sweetheart,’ Sarah says, quietly. I’m not sure if that’s a subtle dig that she earns less than both of us, but I get the feeling it might be.
A waiter brings across some wine and we order, while Sarah dives into her bag and brings out a colouring book and pencils to entice Alfie away from the fish tank.
‘I can’t believe he’s starting school in a few months,’ she laments. ‘He won’t be my baby for much longer.’
Matt hugs her and laughs. ‘If my mum is anything to go by, he’ll always be your baby. Just don’t mention his bed sheets between the ages of, oh, thirteen and twenty-eight. He’ll never forgive you.’
Alfie sits down and begins to scribble furiously, his little legs swinging off the edge of the seat contentedly.
‘Oh, speaking of babies,’ Matt continues, ‘Harriet had a girl this afternoon! Noel called me.’
‘Amazing,’ Sarah asks. ‘What did they call her?’
He hesitates. ‘Hmm,I think they called her Irish.’
‘Irish?’ she repeats. ‘They called their kid something Irish, you mean? Like Niamh or Siobhan or something?’
‘No, her actual name is “Irish”. That’s what Noel said.’
I cock my head to one side. ‘You’re lucky you’re pretty, mate. They called herIris. Numpty.’
He pauses again. ‘That would make more sense.’
I scroll through to find my text from Noel confirming that the new baby’s name is indeed Iris. For an extremely smart man, sometimes Matt lives in a world of his own.
As we eat, I notice how Matt’s more involved with Alfie than ever now. His once awkward demeanour has now been replaced with a more hands-on, confident approach that Alfie responds well to, as does Sarah who observes them interacting with a burgeoning delight. Fuck me, it stings. I’m watching a family flourish right in front of me and all I can selfishly think is how I wish it was me instead of Matt. I thought seeing less of Sarah would help me move on but it’s useless. Even the briefest of meetings sets me right back to square one. Every time I see them together my heart breaks all over again. I haven’t been happy for a long time and while I’m around them all, I never will be. It’s time for me to go. I need to move on. I need a fresh start.
Chapter Thirty
Telling my best mate that I planned on moving out was far more emotional than I thought it would be.
First there was shock, which was also very much like denial:
‘Mate? What the fuck? You’re not serious?’
‘I need somewhere cheaper, Matt,’ I’d replied, biting into my toast and suddenly feeling terribly guilty that I’d just ruined Matt’s breakfast. He hesitated for a moment before a huge grin spread across his face.
‘Shut up, you twat, you’re not going anywhere.’
‘I am! What, did you think we’d live together forever like Bert and Ernie? I need a change, mate. I can’t stay here doing the same thing over and over and expecting anything to be different.’
Then came anger. Only louder:
‘What the actual fuck, Nick? What the fuck does that even mean? What is supposed to be different? I cannot believe you’re doing this.’
Matt’s chair screeched back as he stormed off into the living room, while I just sat there at the kitchen table, wondering if I was going to be leaving sooner than I thought. Perhaps via the window.
He stayed silent for what seemed like forever before he thundered back into the kitchen and the bargaining began.
‘Look, if you need a bit of time to build up some savings, I’ll cover your rent for a bit. Don’t be hasty – we can definitely sort something out..’
‘I need to do this on my own,’ I’d replied. ‘You’re going in a whole new direction with Sarah, it’s just a matter of time before you move in together. Concentrate on yourself, mate, and I’ll be fine.’
I accompanied him to the living room, just as depression hit.
