33
Three days before Christmas, when the city was filled with sparkly people decked out in fake reindeer antlers like the ones Inga and I had been wearing the night we’d met Matt and Alex, Matt’s text came through.
Home. Fancy meeting for a drink? X
I replied straightaway. Yes. Okay if I come to yours? X
I don’t know if he was surprised by my suggestion or not, but his answer came back quickly.
Sure. Still a week until my tenants move in. 7pm? I’ll cook something.
I might not be around to eat anything after the discussion I planned to have with him—a discussion that was going to severely test my newly founded resolution to be more open with the people I cared about. But I typed a cheery reply anyway.
Perfect! Thanks. See you then. X
Travelling to Matt’s in a taxi, with the driver’s Christmas music assaulting my ears, I thought how far I’d come since that long ago night with Matt and Alex when Inga and I had pretended to be fortune tellers.
Back then, this music would have made me want to scream, hide away, disappear into a dark hole of oblivion. Now, even though I would never like it, it was just a mild irritation. And this afternoon, at Inga’s, I hadn’t been able to help smiling at her over-the-top festive decorations. It was Inga’s very first Christmas here, in her home, and to Noah’s clear delight, she was making the absolute most of it. The little boy couldn’t get enough of the lights, paper chains, and massive Christmas tree, smiling and kicking his little legs as he stared at them all. It was a joy to see, and I was supremely grateful that my friendship with Inga was back on track, and she’d invited me to join them on Christmas day.
Me, happy about an invitation to Christmas dinner.
The driver saw my smile in his rearview mirror. “Got some nice plans for this evening, have you, love?” he asked.
My smile grew shaky. “I hope so,” I said. “It depends how things go.”
I saw his eyebrows lift in the mirror. “Like that, is it?”
“Yes, it’s like that.”
“Good luck, love!” he called to me as he drove away, leaving me alone in front of Matt’s house.
The outside light was on, illuminating my breath in the cold night air.
This was it. Very soon, I’d know what the future held for me. Without any crystal ball or tarot cards.
The door opened before I could press the doorbell.
“Lily, hi, come in.”
Matt, wearing jeans and a Christmas jumper with a picture of a sheep on the front, the words above reading, Fleece Navidad.
As an icebreaker, it was pretty effective.
Despite my nerves, I couldn’t help laughing at the pun on Feliz , the Spanish word for happy . “Good jumper.”
Matt smiled down at himself. “Isn’t it? Corny as hell, but ’tis the season to be corny. Here, let me take your coat.”
“Thanks.”
I shrugged it off. Gave it to him. He went to hang it up. I wished he’d just thrown it onto the back of a chair. It would have been much more relaxed.
“Can I get you a drink? There’s all the usual Christmas suspects—advocaat, Baileys, sherry.” He smiled. “My parents are here for Christmas Day, can you guess?”
Briefly, I pictured Mum, eating Christmas dinner with Callum, Diane, Tom, and all the others I hadn’t met when I’d visited. I dismissed her from my mind.
“Or there’s wine or beer, if you prefer?”
“A glass of white would be lovely, thank you.”
“One glass of dry white coming up.”
I followed him into the kitchen. It was filled with the fragrant smell of a casserole—warm, homely.
“Here.” He handed me my wine. Picked up his own glass.
“Thank you. Cheers.”
We clinked glasses, staying where we were in the warm, fragrant kitchen.
“I’m so sorry I haven’t been in touch, Lily,” he said, suddenly serious. “I should have been there for you after everything blew up at the gallery. How are you? How’s Violet?”
But I didn’t want to talk about Vi, not yet.
“I’m okay. You’ve been dealing with your own stuff. What Inga told you ... it must have come as a shock.”
He sighed. Put his wine glass down on the counter. “It did, I won’t lie. That she kept it from me for all those years ... It felt like a complete betrayal. To be honest, it made me question our entire relationship.”
“I hated knowing and not being able to tell you,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head. “It did hurt at first, knowing you’d kept it from me. Then I realised that was daft. What else could you do? Inga should have told me.”
“It was really hard,” I said, wondering whether the strain of keeping Inga’s secret had made it that much more difficult for me to keep quiet at other times—if that was partly why I’d dropped hints to Matt about her second pregnancy. Spoken to Harry about Noah the way I had.
“Inga should never have put you in that position,” Matt said.
I shrugged. “She just needed a friend.”
He sighed, picking up his wine glass again. “I suppose so. And she couldn’t find a better one than you.” He shook his head. “God, when I think of the night we met, me and Alex just back from our travels. Full of swagger. We grew up together, really, didn’t we? Our friendship means the world to me. I’d hate to be without it.” He smiled. “So you don’t have to worry. This doesn’t affect us at all. We’re good.”
My heart began to race. The stem of my wineglass was in danger of snapping, I was clutching it so tightly. This was it. What I’d come here for. The moment that might have me heading back out, the delicious-smelling casserole untasted. Could I do it? Yes, I had to.
“Aren’t we?” he said, frowning at my obvious discomfort.
I looked up. Met his concerned gaze, everything I was about to say most probably already in my eyes. But I spoke the words, anyway. “That ... isn’t what I want.”
Matt’s frown deepened, his gaze sweeping over my face. “Lily, bloody hell. You don’t mean that, do you? I was an idiot, I get that. I wasn’t there when you needed me most. But—”
I interrupted quickly, hating to hear the hurt in his voice. “No, that’s not what I meant. I meant ... I don’t want us to go back to the way things were.” I took a deep breath. “Our friendship has always meant so much to me too. But ... I don’t want us to be friends any longer.”
“You don’t?”
“Well, yes,” I stumbled, frustrated by my inability to express myself. “I do. Of course I do. But I ... I don’t want us to be only friends.” I sighed. Closed my eyes. Opened them again. Met his gaze. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m in love with you, Matt. I have been for a long time.”
My chest was rising and falling as I snatched quick, panicked breaths. Every millisecond felt like an hour as I waited for him to respond. Then, magically, he began to smile.
“You can’t imagine how long I’ve waited for you to say that,” he said, and now my breath caught on a sob of relief, my cheeks suddenly wet.
“Oh, Lily,” he said, “don’t cry.” And he reached out to pull me to him. But even though that was what I wanted most in the world, I moved away.
“I can’t do anything behind Inga’s back,” I told him quickly. “She has to know. She has to be able to accept it.”
Matt looked at me. Nodded. “Agreed.”
Then he smiled again—a big, delighted smile that told me that, even if it took a while, everything was going to be all right.