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She laughs again. “Maybe in your world, but not in his. He’s in love with you. Trust me. He is.”
And somewhere down deep I feel a shiver. A tingle.
My mind whizzes through our times together, special coffee and cupcakes, that Dirty Dancing lift. All the laughs and the jokes and the way we’ve become so close, and I get a pang of something in return, feeling like a fool, because I’ve been lying to myself all along. Just like I have been with so much else lately.
“You need to accept it, Cass,” Janie says, with a smile pasted over her embarrassment. “Gerwyn is in love with you, and if you weren’t with Ant I’m pretty sure you’d be in love with him too.”
She’s right, and it makes my heart thump. If Ant wasn’t my fiancé, I’d most definitely be in love with Gerwyn.
And there it comes… the lurch, just under the ribcage.
The lurch that says it all.
Gerwyn
Ant looks right at me. “I’m guessing you didn’t make a move on little miss pink.”
“It was an awkward situation. That’s all there is to it.”
I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it. I hate the way I feel such an asshole for turning Janie away.
It’s not Janie’s laughter that drives me crazy though. It’s not Janie’s smile that lights up my world. It’s not seeing Janie in her old PJs while she grins at crap on TV that sets me on fire.
It’s Cass.
The woman I’m in love with.
It makes the pang in my gut so strong that I down a whole glass of champagne.
Ant laughs. “Seriously, Ger, just bite the bullet and get with the sweet little blondie, will you? She’s desperate for a piece of you. Appreciate it.”
“I do appreciate it. Unfortunately, I don’t feel the same.”
“She’s not good enough for you?”
I hate the way he frames it like that.
“She’s more than good enough for me, she’s great. I just don’t want to pursue it. I see her as a friend.”
He tosses his napkin on the table and shrugs.
“Fine. You do you. Literally. For the rest of time at this rate, if you’re not careful.”
I get a fresh rush of embarrassment when Cass returns with Janie from the bathroom, cursing myself that I’ve fallen in love with the wrong fucking woman. Cass gives me a smile of kind reassurance, despite the fact she knows I turned down her best friend.
I’m grateful that Janie has managed to push her awkwardness aside a little by the time she sits back down opposite me. She raises her glass with a cheers, everyone and it’s a relief to know she doesn’t hold the rejection against me. I’m feeling considerably more shit for it than she is, it seems.
I use the opportunity of another cheers as a chance to down a load more champagne, needing a drunken haze to get me through this. I’m grateful when Ant orders another two bottles, giving him a smile and a truly heartfelt thanks. He gives me a nod in return, clearly seeing how badly I’m doing at the table.
I order a thick slab of chocolate fudge cake for dessert, but Janie doesn’t want anything. I expect I’ll be the only one eating, but Cass orders a slice along with me, giving me a smile of solidarity as the waitress retreats with the menus.
It tastes delicious, but I hardly notice it. I focus as best I can on champagne and small talk, trying to control my heart as it pounds with the feelings for Cass I can’t deny. Not anymore.
I love her too much for that.
As usual, Ant gets the bill without accepting a word of protest, and I dash on outside ahead of the others, desperate for another cigarette before we leave. When the air hits me, I realise I’m more drunk than I’ve been in a long time. Unfortunately, not quite drunk enough to be oblivious to the situation – no matter how ok Janie seems with me, I still feel like an absolute prick as we get into the car and drive her home. I wave her off with as friendly a smile as I can once we’re back at her parents’ place, feeling like shit all over again when she barely acknowledges me.
Cass is quiet on the rest of the journey to our place, but Ant isn’t.
“You’re missing out there, Ger,” he tells me, like I don’t know it already. “Janie’s a gorgeous girl.”
“Yes,” I respond. “She is.”
“So why not?” he asks, pushing the same question. “Ah, yes, of course. It’s all about feelings for you, isn’t it? You need the love card to be in play before you can get your dick hard.”
It’s a rhetorical question with a dumbass tone, so I look out of the window, not wanting to engage with him.
