Chapter 3
Chapter Three
WILL
‘Do you think I should reach out to him?’
‘Absolutely not.’
We sit across from each other on my sofa, me with my knees underneath me and Alice with her socked feet on my coffee table.
Alice sips at her wine, trying her best not to spill any, her dark hair tied in a messy bun.
I’ve already consumed half of mine. Incense burns, with smoke rising in twirling pirouettes.
I breathe in the white sage, woody scent.
As soon as Clive left for the day, I was out of there, bringing the work home with me, telling myself I’d do it later.
It’s later, and I haven’t done it.
There are more important things.
‘Just to congratulate him.’
‘No, Will.’
‘Just a quick message, maybe,’ I mutter.
‘Why would you want to reach out to him, anyway?’ Alice asks.
‘It’s the right thing to do.’
‘Is it, though?’
Her eyes are wide, brown, and her eyebrows rise like she is in a permanent state of shock.
But her lips are spread in a thin line, nostrils flared.
It’s her teacher look. The one she gives to students before telling them to buck up.
I know it because before she got her job, she ran it by me to ‘see if it works’.
She’s always been alternative, and surprisingly, her school doesn’t mind. She doesn’t have to cover her tattoos, and her outfits are always dungarees and corduroy than suits. Perhaps art teachers get away with it.
‘Don’t look at me like that.’
She nudges my knee. ‘You know what I think.’
I do. Alice has never understood my post-partnership friendship with Ollie, or indeed why I’m still so hung up on him.
She’ll often avoid talking about him if she doesn’t have to.
About six months ago, she brought him up.
When I told her we hadn’t spoken she seemed satisfied, probably hoping that I’d finally let him go.
‘Since you found out he’s engaged, you’ve been a ball of anxiety.’
‘I have not,’ I insist.
‘Since you called me from Tesco, you’ve texted me a million times.’
I cross my arms, moving my legs from under me and cocking one up to rest my chin on my knee. ‘That’s because I needed someone to vent to.’
‘And you can vent to me anytime,’ Alice says, smiling. ‘But you look like you’re being consumed with the thought of it.’
I down my wine, even though the taste makes me want to retch from its intensity. Wiping my mouth, I say, ‘It’s just a lot to take in.’
Alice leans forward, putting her still-full glass of wine down, and extends her hands. ‘Come here.’
I take her hand and she tightens her grip to stop them trembling.
‘What you had with Ollie was special. I know that,’ she says, her voice calm. ‘He was a special guy. But you deserve happiness, Will, and I don’t think you’ll get that by continuing to live in the past.’
I slip my hand from her grasp, getting to my feet. ‘I’m not living in the past,’ I say, tone light. But heat prickles on my neck as I retrieve the wine bottle from the kitchen and pour myself a fresh glass. ‘I’m happy for Ollie.’
I come back to the sofa, landing with a huff, and slump down until my legs are stretched out and my back is closer to the cushion than it is to the back support.
‘This isn’t good for you, Will. What’s the point of keeping him on your socials if he’s going to upset you?’
Because sometimes he likes a post, and every day I get to look at him and his life.
I hesitantly tap my fingers on the screen of my phone. ‘Okay, well, fine. But Ollie is Ollie, isn’t he? He’s not someone I can just outright drop.’
‘It’s up to you,’ Alice says.
‘Which means you think I should make a decision.’
‘It’s up to you,’ she repeats.
We sit for a moment, close but thinking different things. ‘I don’t know why I’m incapable of making changes in my life. Although, I might lose my job soon. New management coming in.’
Alice’s face softens and she hugs me. ‘Oh, babe, I’m sorry.’
‘Sly Clive said that I’m replaceable by AI.’
‘Bloody AI,’ Alice says, shaking her head. ‘All the students think they can get away with using it for their homework. If I have to see one more AI generated artwork and be asked to mark it, I might snap. Don’t get me started, Will.’
‘Oh, I won’t.’ When Alice has a cause, she will run with it. I admire it, but right now I can’t comprehend a rant on the ethics of AI. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.’
‘About what, hun?’
‘Life.’ I gesture around the apartment, then at me. ‘A bit of self-reflecting.’
‘What have we established?’
‘Fuck knows.’
A buzzing alarm rings out with a shrill cry and I bolt upright, having forgotten we’d ordered food.
Alice sighs, elongated and dramatic. ‘Thank God that’s here. I’m starving.’