Page 41 of The Ghost of Exes Past

‘I get it. It’s far.’

‘It’s so far.’ Belle sighs, falling back onto the bed. ‘I don’t want to have to travel five hours to see you. I just want you to be near. To be someone I could theoretically turn up on the doorstep of when I need a hug,’ she says, rubbing her forehead.

‘And you haven’t changed your mind about moving here?’

Belle shakes her head, her voice sad but confident. ‘I’m just not ready to leave London yet. Did you have a think too?’

‘I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I don’t think it’s possible with my work here, the business.’

Belle pauses and lets out a sigh. Silence fills the room as she starts picking the skin around her nails, then she catches herself, stops, sits on her hands instead. Finally, she says, ‘Part of me feels that if we really wanted us to work, we’d make it work, you know?’

Silence again. ‘This is shit,’ Emma says.

‘So shit.’ Belle sits up now, crossing her legs underneath her, holding the phone in the palm of her hands. A car horn beeps outside.

‘I’m not ready to completely let go of you yet, though, Belle.’

Belle’s face looks pained; her frown is deep, her mouth downturned. Her eyes skim the phone, her hands, the bedsheets. I can’t tell if this is what she wants or if she’s been pushed to this.

‘I think, for now …’ She pauses. ‘We need to end this, what we’re doing.’

Something hits me in my chest – not the ending … I’d clocked that was coming, since Emma will not be the one at the altar tomorrow. It’s the bit before it, the way Belle put herself first, without collapsing inward or making it easier for everyone else.

I think about how many times I’d watched her do the opposite with me. Swallowing the thing she actually wanted to say and handing me the version I could handle instead. I thought that was just how it was, but it turns out that was just who she was with me.

Hearing how she was so excited about this time in her life, I’m proud of her for not throwing it away for someone else.

‘I guess so,’ Emma replies.

I stick out my bottom lip and turn to Belle beside me. ‘Very mature.’

She nods, excitedly. ‘It was the right choice. Doesn’t mean I don’t still think about her, though.’

She smiles but then looks away, finding a spot on the wall just past my shoulder.

‘Hey, you okay?’ I reach out and my fingers find her arm.

‘They’re not all like this, you know,’ she says softly, that confidence now gone. She knows what’s coming and she’s trying to warn me … or herself, I can’t tell which.

‘I don’t know, but I’ll find out.’ She tries to smile. ‘I’ll be by your side, Belle.’

‘Well, the next one’s nice, anyway. But after that … Fuck.’ She laughs, a deep exhale. ‘We might need a big drink before that one … and the one after that …’

I squeeze her shoulder before letting go. ‘Shall we have a quickie now?’

One side of her mouth curves up. ‘Let’s do it.’ Her eyes twinkle as she takes my hand.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Belle

I’m back at my wedding rehearsal, next to a roasting fireplace. Jake is … somewhere, and there is no way in hell I’m missing the fireworks I’ve been looking forward to for the past year. I briefed the company, Vampyre Sky Pyrotechnics, to use colours that fit in with our florals in the chapel tomorrow and to have them go off in sync to a track that played in the wine bar where Timothy took me on our first official date.

We both agreed the actual first date didn’t count, although for slightly different reasons. Mine being, there’s no way in hell we are mentioning Tinder in our wedding speeches, and Timothy’s reasoning being that it was the wrong setting: too casual, no champagne. No one needs to know we rewrote our origin story before it even properly began.

I’ve been picturing this moment for months. Seeing everyone together, huddled under blankets, faces lit up with sparks, and Timothy by my side, our last evening together before becoming husband and wife.

First, though, my notes. After a shimmy in my bra, I add: