Page 32 of The Ghost of Exes Past

‘And what would we talk about?’ Belle is still smiling, not in jest, but kindly. There’s something different about the look behind her eyes.

‘I dunno … stuff?’

‘Look, Nat, I think you’re gorgeous, and this was fun. This was what I needed, but I think we both know it was just a holiday thing, yeah?’ Nat looks devastated. ‘Honestly, I wish you the best, but it’s best that we leave this here!’

I raise my eyebrows. That was actually good. Not a disaster. In fact, it was the opposite of a disaster – she didn’t cry, didn’t raise her voice, didn’t throw anything; no sugar-coating, no ‘let’s stay friends’ bullshit, no ‘it’s not you, it’s me’. I cough, thinking of all the times I used that one.

This Belle said the thing, and she meant it.

And Nat is taking it! Reluctantly, but he’s nodding. He’s not even arguing back.

When did Belle learn to do that?

I look at her, how her shoulders are back, chin up, not even flinching as Nat’s face crumbles – she’s holding eye contact, for God’s sake! The girl I knew would have cried, apologised for crying, then apologised for apologising. This one stands her ground and says it how it is. I’m impressed.

‘That was … actually handled well!’

Belle spins around to look at me, surprised. ‘Was that a compliment?’

‘Don’t get used to it. You’ve still got questionable taste in men. Present company excluded, obviously.’

‘You’re dead, Jake. Technically, not company. You’re haunting me, remember?’ Fair point.

Belle turns back to the scene. Nat is standing there, backpack strap sliding off one shoulder. He readjusts, rubbing the back of his neck.

‘Yeah. Yeah, it was worth a shot, though, right?’ He flashes that smile of his.

‘Always.’ Belle grins up at him. She squeezes his arm and walks off to join the girls.

‘This was the first time I’d felt properly in control of my own life … like, ever. And especially in control of my own love life.’ Her voice beside me is almost shaky – with pride maybe, or relief, I can’t quite tell which.

I nod, watching Nat run to catch up with his lads, and I can tell he’s not thrilled, but at least he’s not making a scene. Still, I wouldn’t have given up that easily.

Belle’s gals are waiting just outside the sliding doors, hands on hips; soon, Rachael starts pointing like she’s witnessed something historic and Daniela is somewhere behind her, talking at the same time.

‘This is good. A-star for past Belle,’ she says beside me, proudly.

‘You go, Glen Coco.’ I raise my hand for a high five.

She stares at me. ‘Did you just quote Mean Girls?’

‘I’ve watched a lot of films. Don’t make it weird.’

She returns the high five and exhales, long and deliberate, then she does something with her shoulders – a shimmy, like she’s physically shaking something off – before straightening up completely.

‘What a relief! Right. Rehearsal dinner. Shall we?’

‘After you.’ I bow.

‘Oh, one more thing. Don’t go to my room without me there. You’ve lost room privileges. Lie low in a cupboard or something,’ she adds.

‘Gotcha,’ I reply and take her hands in mine.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Belle

I’m back in the corner of the saloon, facing the wall, exactly where we left. Jake’s hands are no longer in mine. I turn – he’s not here at all. Guests drift past me towards the dining hall, champagne in hand, hopefully oblivious to the fact that I’ve been facing the wall, muttering to a ghost. I reach into my dress and a woman I don’t recognise catches my eye mid-rummage, so I smile brightly until she walks away. I smooth the paper against the wall and quickly jot down: