Page 86 of Hate You to Love You

I’m about to sit, but something tells me to back off for a moment. ‘I’m sorry. Work has been crazy lately.’

‘It’s been a crazy time for us here too,’ Laney jumps in, her tone sharp.

Sal pushes his empty wineglass around in front of him. ‘You could have messaged to keep us in the loop.’

‘As if he would have done that,’ Jones mumbles.

My stomach churns. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Don’t,’ Sal whispers to Jones.

‘Jones clearly has something to say,’ I remark. ‘So let him say it.’

Jones looks at Sal, his rising temper evident in the red spreading over his face. ‘Fine,’ he bites back. ‘We didn’t know when or even if you were coming, because the last thing you said was that you were going to the UK for work, and you haven’t bothered to reply to any of our messages since.’

I give them both a sullen look. It was ironic that Jones was making me feel guilty for this. Over the past few years, as Jones’s life expanded with his job in TV, his messages became so infrequent that there was never any point in trying to initiate a conversation. And when I made the move to organise hangouts with him, there was always a new shoot or event that he had to attend.

‘What’s the big deal?’ I ask, frustrated.

‘The big deal is you’ve been a shit friend,’ Jones snaps.

‘Excuse me?’ I reply, not even trying to hide the outrage in my response.

‘You heard me,’ Jones adds, almost threatening. ‘Mate, you checked out of this friendship a long time ago. Sometimes I wonder if it’s even worth the effort with you anymore.’

My teeth clench. ‘The only reason I’ve “checked out”,’ I tell him calmly, ‘is because you’re all moving on without me. We used to talk every single day. How am I supposed to hold on to our friendship when you’re all so ready to move on with your lives?’

‘Is that what this is about? That we don’t hang out every day anymore?’ Sal asks, scoffing.

‘We don’t need to hang out every day. But when you care about someone, you make space for that person in your life. If someone matters, you show up for them. The three of you seem to be more concerned about checking your cliché Adult Life Moments off some stupid bucket list than keeping this friendship alive.’

As soon as I say the words, I regret it. But the thought that more people I love could leave me is so painful. Elliot left. Dad is gone. It’s only a matter of time before my friends drop out of my life too.

Jones shoves his beer to the side. ‘I’ll fully admit that we don’t see each other as much as we used to. But Sal still makes the effort. Laney still finds ways to get the group together. The distance you’re feeling is all you. You never reply to any of our messages. I can’t even remember the last time you checked in on our lives. We don’t matter unless it works for you.’

‘We know you miss how things used to be,’ Laney adds, letting out an exhausted sigh. ‘And I know how dark everything has felt since your dad passed. But, mate, you’ve been so stuck in the past.’

‘I can’t even imagine the pain of losing a parent,’ Sal interjects. ‘I would never want to let go of the memories either. But there are chapters of our lives that we sometimes just have to move on from.’

Sal is right. He has no idea what it is like to lose a parent. He doesn’t know what it was like to have the person who had guided you through life – in all its wonderful and messy moments – suddenly ripped from this world. He doesn’t know that the grief felt like someone crushing your chest until you were no longer able to gasp for air.

‘Yeah,’ Jones agrees. ‘We understand that you want to remember the good times, but sometimes we want to do more than sit around, drink and talk about the past.’

‘We just want you to be happy again,’ Sal adds.

My entire body is trembling. It is clear, now, that Jones, Sal and Laney no longer have room for me in their new lives. Trying to remind them of our happy times together didn’t work. Focusing on my career didn’t impress them either. I am all alone.

I back away from the table.

‘Where are you going?’ Sal asks.

‘I can’t deal with this right now,’ I say, defeated. I turn and walk back through the courtyard, pausing before I exit out the back gate.

‘That’s right, Carlos – run away when things get hard,’ Jones calls out.

Jones’s words hit my heart like an arrow. He’s right. I’m running away, but only because it’s easier than seeing everything and everyone I love change before my eyes.

I take off down a street lined with industrial warehouses, grateful that there is no one around to see the tears spilling down my face. My first instinct is to call Addie. But she’s out with Maria tonight. There’s no way I can face Mum either. Especially not after how I’d spoken to her the last time we saw each other.