Chapter 61
Chapter Sixty-One
WILL
Day Twenty-Four, Early Hours
Icatch my breath, sweat on my forehead, my feet aching.
All night I’ve danced with Sam, Tim, Jemima and Lydia.
The five of us have barely let up, always supplied with something fresh to drink.
As the evening progresses, I forget all about Ollie and Alec, even though this is their wedding.
To me, it almost feels like a celebration of us: my new boyfriend, my new friends, my new life.
‘I can’t wait for you to move here,’ Lydia says. ‘I’m so glad I met you.’
She’s had too much to drink.
As I rest at the table, people dancing in drunken hazes, the chair next to me moves.
Ollie.
‘Congratulations,’ I say, smiling at him, his wedding ring catching my eye. ‘I can’t believe it’s finally happened. You’re a married man, now.’
‘Because of you,’ Ollie says.
‘I couldn’t let you not get married now, could I?’
He laughs. Like old times.
‘Thank you for everything, Ollie,’ I say. ‘You were exactly what I needed when I needed it.’
‘You too.’ Ollie pauses. ‘How are you doing, Will?’
I know what he means, know the question runs deeper. ‘I have my hang-ups. I have my demons. I have things that I still need to work through. But there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. There are solutions to some of my problems. I can almost taste happiness again.’
‘You know I’m here if ever you need me,’ Ollie says. ‘And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way, or contributed to any of your … demons.’
‘Water under the bridge, even if you did.’
It’s hard to admit when things need to change. Even harder when those changes aren’t easy fixes. But for the first time in a long time, I’m ready to turn a corner.
‘Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!’ sung by Cher plays, and I turn to Ollie, wide-eyed.
‘Whenever I watch Cher in Here We Go Again I think of you.’
‘Oh my God, and I think of you.’
Every fibre of my being wants to go and dance to Cher, but Ollie’s eyes hold me in place.
‘Will,’ he says. ‘I did love you. I promise. I wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, but—’
I stop him, placing a finger to my lips. ‘Enough, Ollie. That’s all I needed to hear.’
He holds out his hand. ‘Can I have this dance?’
The build-up to the first chorus is coming, and I snatch Ollie’s hand and pull him to his feet.
Running to the dance floor, I take Alec’s hand, pull him to Sam, to Lydia who is flicking her hair like Willow Smith, to Jemima and Tim doing the robot.
As Cher breaks into the chorus, the group of us shout at the top of our lungs, beaming, like some dysfunctional pop group with history.
And as Sam kisses me, I shed a tear. What a perfect summer this has been.