“Tilly…”
“I want to be here. We talked last night and we’re going to…” I look between Rhys’s face and the hand he still has on my knee. As difficult as it will be to fall back into my old life with Rhys, I can’t bear being a burden on Connor anymore. “We’re going to try again.”
Rhys squeezes my knee in approval.
“This is insane,” Connor breathes, more to himself than me. “Okay, how about I take you for a coffee, and you can explain it all to me properly?”
I’m really going to miss this considerate, understanding new Connor.
“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me, you have no idea how much I appreciate it.” I force myself to go on before I lose courage. “But I… I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
Rhys leans over and whispers in my ear. “You’re doing sowell, Muffin. You’re doing the right thing.”
I nod through my tears, waiting for Connor’s response.
“You can’t be serious? Tilly, don’t cut me out…” For a moment I think he sounds pained but quickly come to my senses. He’s just been caught off guard.
Rhys whispers in my ear and I nod again.
“If it’s okay with you, Rhys will come and get my things later. He’ll give my key back while he’s there.”
“For fuck’s sake, Matilda…”
“I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You’re a really good person.”
“Tilly, please!”
“Bye, Connor.”
Rhys takes the phone from my shaking hand and hangs up for me. I lean into his hold, and he kisses my head.
“I know that was hard for you. But the right thing usually is, you know?”
He’s right. But that knowledge doesn’t ease the pain I’m feeling at the prospect of never seeing Connor again. The pain that’s worse, I realise, than when I decided to leave Rhys.
“I’ll put the kettle on, you put your feet up,” Rhys says, swinging my legs onto the sofa for me. “You might want to block and delete his number too, Mat. You don’t want to be tempted to drag him into something again, do you? Not when he’s just got his life back.”
I curl into a ball and stare at my phone, unsure if I’m able to take that final step. Rhys gives me a knowing, sympathetic look.
“I can do it, if you want?” he says. I reluctantly hold up the phone, and he takes it.
“What’s your passcode?”
“My birthday,” I answer quietly.
“May?”
“October.”
“Oh. Fourteenth, yeah?”
“Third.”
“Oh, sorry. I could have sworn it was in May.”
I don’t know why I’m surprised, but I am. And worse, I’m more disappointed than ever, knowing that Connor had my birthday memorised before we even started to like each other.
Rhys taps away at my phone, then hands it back to me. Satisfied that the person I had considered a friend is now cut from our lives, Rhys retreats to the kitchen, leaving me numb on the couch. He calls over his shoulder, “Now we can finally put this whole mess behind us and go back to how things were.”
