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I buried myself in work at university, took a receptionist job at a local hotel and avoided people who knew him like the plague. For the next two years, I stuck to a routine that kept me busy. After my final exams, I went home for the weekend and found out that Jasper was back. He’d decided to give up on archaeology and had found a job in London at an investment bank. The last bit of Jasper that I could hold on to had gone.
The first time I saw Jasper after his graduation was at mine. He remained at a noticeable distance, gave me a graduation gift that I never bothered to open and kept his congratulations short. He didn’t bother to stay for my graduation lunch.
The isolation I kept myself in at university reared its ugly head the following spring, when it was my turn to celebrate my twenty-first. We had the usual, mandatory family dinner with everyone present. I thought about having my own house party, but realised that the friends I had made at university were either work or class buddies, who I spent no time with outside of those two environments. By the time I admitted that I had no friends to myself, my parents already had a trip booked, so they left me home alone that weekend. I decided to celebrate with a food and film weekend.
I’d been expecting a quiet Friday night; so the sudden interruption of the doorbell ringing frightened me. I grabbed Zachary’s cricket bat and put it next to the door before I opened it, just in case.
It was Jasper, suited, straight from work, carrying a crate of gin bottles. We’d obviously neglected to tell him there was no party; he looked surprised when I opened the door in my pyjamas, with a shower cap on my head protecting my hair treatment.
‘No party then?’ he asked cautiously.
‘No.’ I offered a small apologetic smile.
‘Okay, happy birthday, Ariella.’
With that, he turned to retreat with the crate to his car. I wanted to shut the door and return to my film but it didn’t feel right. I went after him barefoot.
‘Jasper!’ I yelled as I ran.
He was putting on his seatbelt. He looked up.
‘Do you want to have a drink with me?’
‘I’m sorry, Aari…’ He shook his head as he began.
‘It’s okay,’ I said and walked as quickly as I could back towards the house.
‘Aari!’
I ignored his call. I heard his car door shut and his feet hitting the gravel as he ran up to me.
‘Aari!’ He grabbed my hand. ‘Wait, please let me finish. I was going to say I’m sorry I can’t join you for a drink, because I’ll have to drive back to London later, but I’ll have some tea while you get going on this.’
He offered a small smile and shook a bottle of an artisanal gin I had never seen before.
‘Yeah, I can do tea.’
We walked to the house, heading straight into the kitchen. I opened the glass sliding door that extended the entire width of the kitchen to our pool and garden, letting the breeze outside rush in. Having Jasper so close after so long made me feel a little boxed in.
He sat at the breakfast table, watching me as I grabbed some tonic for myself and filled the kettle.
‘Get anything good for your birthday?’ he began.
‘I haven’t opened any presents yet,’ I replied. ‘How’s work?’ I scrambled for acceptable conversation topics.
‘Busy, but good. Lots of numbers.’
I looked in his direction, which prompted him to inspect the corners of the kitchen. I put everything down and stood opposite him at the breakfast bar.
‘Jasper, when did chatting become so difficult?’ I said, staring directly at him.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Can we figure it out? Please? I miss my best friend.’
Unexpectedly, little pools welled up in my eyes and, as I tried to blink them away, big fat ones rolled down my cheeks. Jasper sat, frozen where he was.
‘Please don’t cry, Aari. I can’t handle it.’
