He nods. “It’s fine.” He smiles and sits back on the couch. He is a good boy, just a good boy who knows how to also be a bad one.
I pick up the phone panicked that there is an emergency.
“Harri?” a solemn Greg says.
“Greg! Why are you calling me?” I shout without thought.
He sobs down the phone something incoherent about making a mistake.
“Hold on, Greg,” I say sternly and put the phone to my chest. I mouth at Sam, “I’m so sorry.”
He smiles and mouths, “It’s fine. I better go anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
I hesitate to think about putting the phone down on Greg, tossing it in the fire and throwing myself at Sam. But the moment has gone.
“Sure, I’d like that. And again I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll see myself out, don’t worry.” He kisses me tenderly on the cheek lingering for a moment so I can inhale him one last time.
“OK,” I whisper.
I watch as he grabs his coat and shoes and slinks off out of the front door before I can convince him otherwise. I turn my attention back to the phone.
Fire in my belly turns to rage as I put the receiver to my ear. “You can’t just call me crying and expect me to drop everything. I was busy, Greg.”
“With who?” he questions. The tears have stopped.
I want him to hurt, so I don’t try to hide it. “Why does that matter?”
“Are you dating? Are you? Harri, tell me now.” His voice is shaky and angry.
“Again, none of your business.”
“A man?”
I cut him off. “Greg!”
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” he stutters, knowing he has not got the right to pry any more than he has.
“You have no right to call and ask me things like that. Not after what you did.”
He pauses for a moment before sighing. “I’m sorry. I just miss you, Harri, please come home.”
The rage calms. I am angry but I can’t help but soothe my voice a little. “Greg, you need to stop. This is not fair.”
“It’s not fair that you just left me without even trying,” he chimes back.
“I’m not doing this over the phone, Greg.”
“You are coming back though. For the Winter Wonderland? You love that ball,” he says.
“Space, Greg. Give me some fucking space,” I yell down the phone, my voice hoarse from the emotions.
I put the phone down. I half feel sorry for his desperation, but he is also a total twat. He ruined a kiss with a man who seems like a genuine sweetheart, and he has one hundred percent beentold I will be attending Winter Wonderland by his blackmail bitch of a mother so has called to confirm it himself. God, I hate this.
Twelve
“We’re home, my darling!” My granny wakes me from my sleep. She is sat on the bed by my feet stroking my arm. I feel groggy from the wine and kebab meat.
