* * *
The Pablo cuddles did help,and the chamomile surprisingly did too, but I had a lot of hard things still ahead of me that day. The first was to let Niamh know once and for all that I wouldn’t be at the wedding. It was ridiculous that I’d let it go on so long without RSVPing, really.
But just as I unlocked my phone to message, Sophie sent a message through in an old group chat from a birthday dinner for Maya a couple of years ago, with a few other people in it, including Niamh.
SOPHIE
What are everyone’s plans for the morning after the wedding? We’re thinking brunch at the country club if anyone’s in? @Amy Evans that includes you and your new man!
My heart sank at the reference to my “new man”, but I wasn’t about to admit in a text that we’d broken up. I did need to bite the bullet though.
AMY
Hey! So weird, I was just about to message Niamh. Phil and I actually can’t come anymore unfortunately; his nan is having health problems. But we send our congratulations.
I knew Phil would hate me sending congratulations on his behalf– “Send them a middle finger emoji from me, would ya?” he would have said instead– and the spite I felt at responding in a way he’d hate did a surprising amount for me mentally. Though that boost lasted only a few seconds before I was reminded that Chris was also in that group chat.
CHRIS
Hah, I knew that townie couldn’t hack it. Good try though, Amy. Better luck next time.
I felt my teeth grind together as I clenched my jaw, feeling like I might hurl my phone across the room. In fact, Jack’s joke about me throwing things was probably the only thing that kept it in my hand. Genuinely, what had I ever seen in Chris? Had I been that desperate to make my friends happy that I’d been with a guy like that for months?
“Better you than me, Niamh,” I said to myself, then smiled as I saw the responses that followed.
MAYA
Genuinely Chris, you can be such a twat. Niamh, run away with me instead! Save yourself!
NIAMH
Don’t listen to him, Amy, he’s just kidding I’m sure. Give Phil and his nan our regards and best wishes. We’ll miss you on the big day.
AMY
Thanks Niamh, I’m sure they’ll appreciate that. Oh and Chris, here’s your response from both of us:
The other hard thing I had to do was face Phil at D&D. I’d been mildly annoyed that he was coming at all– surely he wanted to give me some space after literallyjustbreaking up with me?– but once I accepted it I became determined to make him regret coming along. Sure, I was the newest joiner, but it was my campaign now, too. I was contributing to the story, I was enjoying spending time with everyone, and I’d be damned if I let his lack of ability to feel his feelings ruin that for me.
So I dug through my wardrobe until I found the outfit I’d been looking for: the sage green playsuit I’d been wearing the night he’d rejected me five years ago. The night he claimed he’d been so desperate for me he could hardly breathe.
He may have thought he was capable of shutting his feelings off, but I was coming at that shit with a wrench.
Jack rode with me, and we made a pit stop for snacks at the supermarket. We rolled the windows down on the way and shouted along badly to Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone” when it came on the radio, even if it didn’t quite ring true. Then I walked into Fatima and Morgan’s house with my brother at my back, determined to be unapologetically present.
I could tell the moment I walked in that the others knew we’d split up. Phil and Fatima were sat at the table having a chat, Grey and Chloe were playing video games on the sofa, and Morgan was coming out of the kitchen with a jug of water. And the moment I stepped through the door, they all turned to look at me at once, everyone and everything going quiet.
I tried desperately to avoid eye contact with Phil, but he was looking at me with his mouth open– scanning me, actually– and I could tell he recognised what I was wearing. I should have felt smug at the sliver of hurt I could see in his expression, but instead I had to force myself to keep up my smile. I looked away from him before I could let my empathy get the better of me.
And plus, I’d brought a trump card.
“I brought cheesecake!” I said, holding up the two different flavours Jack and I had bought on the way there.
The others cheered, and I saw Morgan head back into the kitchen and open the cutlery drawer, but best of all, I watched as Phil’s face set into a hard line. I set the cheesecakes in the middle of the table and put my things down in Jack’s usual seat– he’d suggested we swap so I wouldn’t have to deal with Phil– and then went into the kitchen to help Morgan.
“Can you give us a minute?” Phil asked just as Morgan was handing me a stack of plates. I spun around to face him, almost dropping the plates as I did, and narrowed my eyes.
“Is that really necessary?” I asked.
