I nod. ‘Alfie’s birthday weekend.’
I’ve only seen Alfie and Sarah the once since I moved, at the farm, and we haven’t spoken since. I still feel like a rat, reneging on my promise to visit Alfie all the time, but it’s for the best. This way I can sleep at night. We get into the car and Matt starts the engine.
‘Sorry I couldn’t make it for your birthday,’ I say as we head towards London Bridge. ‘It’s chaotic being the new kid and all that.’
‘Not a problem,’ he insists. ‘You didn’t miss much. It was just the usual gang. Glad you’re here now. Job going well? And how’s the flat?’
‘Really well,’ I reply, ‘and the flat is great. Decent-sized bedroom, little garden, private parking for when I eventually get a car. I’m happy. Really happy.’
‘Glad to hear it. I have news as well.’
‘Really? Like what?’ I ask, my mind already jumping to a million conclusions. I bet he and Sarah are getting married. Fuck, maybe she’s pregnant. I glance at Matt, but he is concentrating on the traffic and his face gives away nothing.
‘Let’s grab some beers at the supermarket first. I’ll tell all when we get back to mine. It’s quite the saga.’ He grins sheepishly.
We pull into Tesco and leave Spot in the car with a window cracked while we nip inside, heading straight for the booze aisle. I grab some cans of Stella while Matt lifts a bottle of rosé wine and some frozen strawberry daiquiri mix.
‘Is Sarah coming over?’ I ask, watching him place them in his basket. The familiar feeling of my stomach doing somersaults returns with a vengeance. I wasn’t prepared to see her yet. Does she live with him now? How could he not have told me?
Matt screws up his face. ‘This isn’t for Sarah.’ He actually blushes. ‘So, that’s what I wanted to speak to you about. . . These are for. . . Karen.’
‘Karen who?’
‘Karen, Nick. We’re back together. I’m not with Sarah anymore.’
The beer cans fall from my hands and hit the floor with a crash that startles everyone except me. It’s impossible to be shocked when you’re already reeling.
‘But I thought. . . you guys seemed so happy?’
He nods. ‘I wanted it to work, believe me; I loved her, I love Alfie, but there was always something missing. I just assumed it was me being, well. . . me. I thought, given enough time, it would just click into place. And then Karen turned up on my doorstep three weeks ago.’
Matt selects a bottle of champagne while I just stand there. Stunned.
‘She had just gotten back from New York and wanted to see me. Nick, the moment I saw her standing there, I just knew. I knew I’d never find the part that was missing with Sarah. Anyway, I invited her in, and the old connection was still there for her too. No matter how hard I tried, I guess I never stopped loving her, mate, and she feels the same. Anyway, long story short, we ended up in bed. God knows I never meant to cheat on Sarah but—’
My fist connects with his nose before he can finish the sentence and he decks it, immediately snapping me out of my stunned state and into one of panic.
Everyone in the alcohol aisle has frozen, their mouths open in shock.
‘Oh, shit, mate, I’m so sorry!’ I exclaim, helping him off the floor. ‘Shit, shit, shit, I don’t know what came over me.’
‘What the fuck, Nick?’ he shouts, holding his bloody nose. ‘Jesus, I didn’t cheat on you!’
As security rushes over to eject us from the store, my hand begins to throb like a bitch. Matt’s nose is streaming blood on to his T-shirt and I feel like such a prick.
By the time we get to Matt’s car, the bleeding has slowed to a steady trickle, but his nose doesn’t look right. Spot barks from the back seat, happy to see us.
‘I think you need a doctor, mate,’ I say, trying to touch his nose, but he winces and steps back.
‘Fuck you,’ he says, looking in the wing mirror. ‘What the absolute fuck is wrong with you?’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I repeat. ‘I have no idea what I was thinking. It was just instinct. Sorry, fella.’
We climb back into the car and sit in silence for a moment before Matt finally says, ‘It’s fine. I deserve it, to be fair. I did a crappy thing. Though, for the record, Sarah took the news better than you did.’
‘You told her everything?’ I ask. How can the mere mention of her name still give me butterflies?
He nods, wiping his face with a clean part of his T-shirt. ‘The next morning, I went to hers and confessed all. I tried to explain about Karen, how she wasn’t just some random fling, but Sarah cut me off and told me to leave. I felt terrible. Still do. I tried to call back the next day, but she wouldn’t pick up. I sent a message to explain everything – she’s read it, but I guess she’s still pretty mad. Which is fair enough.’
