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“Will it make me feel less shit about myself?”
“Probably.”
“Go for it, then.”
I proceed to tell him everything.
How me and Paul shagged last Christmas Eve (leaving out the shag in the toilet at Chloe’s mum’s house), then about how Ian caught us the next day, hence the break-up.
I also tell him about how Paul treated me at the wedding…
I tell him how I’ve struggled to move on. How I’ve tried to date, but Paul’s never far from my thoughts.
“I hate to tell you this, but Adam said Paul’s got a girlfriend out in Japan.”
I shake my head. My chin wobbles.
I’m not surprised, just hurt.
Theo holds me as I cry, then wail, then softly sob against his chest.
“Shall we make a pact?” he asks.
“What pact?”
“If we’re single when we’re thirty… that sort of thing.”
“What?” I snort with laughter.
“Okay, let’s make it thirty-five. If we’re still single, both of us with no baggage or anything, we agree to marry and make babies for the sake of our mothers. I mean, we get on. I’m not bad looking, you’re not bad looking. We could both do worse.”
“True. I guess.” Though right now, even with Paul halfway around the world, his dick in some other girl, I still can’t imagine wanting to be married to anyone else.
“For what it’s worth, he’s behaved like a total prick, Lil. But to be honest, I think he’s gone out there looking for something, like, I don’t know…”
“Closure?” I worry I’ve hit the nail on the head.
“No, no… therapy. You know? I think he’s got some demons.”
“He must have.” Otherwise, how else could a man confess love one minute, then turn his back on it the next?
“Thirty-five then, Lil?”
“Thirty and you’re on, wanker. I want to pop out a few kids before I’m over the hill.”
We shake hands, affirming our pact.
I can see from the look in his eyes, he already feels better about everything – he just needed to know he’s not alone and that other people are also going through a lot of the same suppressed emotions, not to mention dreams unfulfilled.
He takes the remote and switches the TV back on, the same film still playing. I fetch a load of snacks from the kitchen and dump them all on the coffee table. Theo picks up the peanuts while I break into the Doritos.
“Mary, Mary!” he cries, mimicking James Stewart’s voice.
I fall about laughing because he sounds so like the character, George Bailey.
“Mr Potter,” he exclaims, “Mr Potter!”
He can put on any voice and it scares me how he does this. I could be sitting next to a psycho and I might never know because he’s such a good actor.
