Chapter Six
It takes another twenty-four days for the reality to finally hit me. To hit me that Daniel has broken up with me. To hit me that I’m not getting married. To hit me that my partner has gone. For real. That he’s not coming back. That the life I had painted for myself in sweeping, technicolour, 4D high-def is never going to happen.
And unfortunately, it happens in the middle of an All Bar One on a Friday night.
I’m having cocktails with Myfanwy, Sonali and Toni. The first two are regaling us again with how much they secretly fancied each other all those years before they finally got together, while Toni frowns with bafflement that two people could like each other so much. I’ve never heard her speak with this kind of affection about Shawn.
As Myfanwy and Sonali get to the part we all know – because duh Toni and I were there – about when they first kissed at New Year’s Eve, two men in their thirties approach.
I automatically look down at my drink, wondering like I always do, whether it’s worth eating the coffee beans decorating the top of my cocktail. I patiently await Myfanwy and Sonali’s dismissal, but when there is silence, I look up, realizing with some shock that the two men are focusing their pervy energy in my direction. It’s actually me who’s getting hit on. This never happens.
The man nearest to me clears his throat and repeats himself, ‘I said, “Can I get you another drink?”?’ He pauses, reviewing the cocktail before me. ‘What’s that, an expresso?’
‘Espresso,’ Sonali corrects him primly – she’s the one we all cheated off at uni – and he takes it as an assent.
‘Expresso coming right up!’ He beams and turns away towards the bar, his friend slapping him on the back in that sad faux-alpha way.
‘No! Er, sorry!’ I shout after him. ‘Sonali was… no, thank you! I have a fiancé! I can’t have a drink!’ But the noise of the crowd is too loud. I turn with terror to the group who share an odd look. ‘I have to stop him buying the drink,’ I say, stricken. ‘I can’t… I don’t… what if Daniel…’
And with that, the truth hits me like a ton of bricks. Metaphorically, but also not: it literally feels like a huge pile of stone lands heavily on top of me all at once. And then those bricks keep coming; hitting me on the head, landing on my back, collapsing my chest. I can’t breathe.
‘Oh my god, I’m single,’ I hear myself saying as if from down a long tunnel. ‘Daniel’s really gone, hasn’t he?’ I look for help between Toni, Sonali and Myfanwy but their faces are blurry. The weight of the bricks is crushing me and I fight for breath.
How have I been such an idiot? How have I been lying to myself so easily for all these weeks? He moved out. He cancelled our wedding. We’ve lost thousands of pounds – most of that my mother’s money, though she hasn’t said a word about it. I’ve heard almost nothing from him in all that time. He’s ignored all my messages and calls, while I pretended that was normal and fine! This is not just some whim of his or some need for breathing space; he’s broken up with me. He’s ended things. After five years of love and friendship, it’s truly over. He doesn’t want to be my boyfriend anymore, let alone my husband. He doesn’t want anything, except for me to leave him alone.
‘Why haven’t you got any ice cream?’ I wail at Toni and Myfanwy’s stricken faces. ‘Don’t you know I’ve been dumped? Where is the ice cream? And the booze? Expresso martinis? That’s not break-up alcohol, I need tequila! Or wine at the very least!’
I vaguely catch Sonali murmuring, ‘Espresso martinis,’ because she can’t let anything like that go, and I burst into full-on weeping. My friends encircle me, as people in the crowd around us turn to watch.
How have I been so blind? It was so clear; so undeniable. He left me weeks before our wedding without a word. Without a proper explanation, without discussion, with barely a text explanation.
It feels cruel. It feels mean. But that doesn’t fit with the Daniel I know, the man I was so close to for so long. The partner I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
Maybe that’s how I’ve been able to stay so long in denial, because none of it makes any sense. This person is not the person I knew.
‘Shall we take you home?’ Myfanwy whispers, her head touching mine.
‘No,’ I sob. ‘I don’t care if everyone sees me crying. Who cares what any of them think? I’m such an idiot. I’m such an idiot. Why didn’t you tell me Daniel had dumped me?’
‘We tried to…’ Toni points out and I nod, tears still blurring my vision.
‘I know you did,’ I sigh. ‘I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I’ve been a nightmare. I can’t believe I thought he’d come back. I can’t believe I thought this was just a blip and wouldn’t matter.’ Myfe strokes my arm as I continue. ‘How could he do this to me? How could he leave me like that? Out of nowhere? Without even an explanation?’
I am suddenly so angry. What kind of person could behave like that? Did I even know Daniel at all?
‘I really don’t know.’ Myfanwy shakes her head, looking disgusted. ‘And I’m so glad you’re finally angry. It’s such a horrible, horrible thing to do and you’ve been blaming yourself.’ She shakes her head again and something in me still tugs defensively at her calling Daniel horrible.
‘Am I really so disposable?’ I whisper and Sonali makes an outraged noise. ‘I feel so worthless,’ I continue. ‘How can someone say they love me and then throw me away so easily? I didn’t know he was capable of that. I didn’t know any human was capable of that. Even if he didn’t love me anymore, he knows I’m not an evil person. I don’t deserve this, I don’t!’ I throw my hands up, tears streaming down my face. ‘I don’t get it! I just don’t understand! We were really happy. We were! I’m not just saying that, you guys. We laughed every single day. We were nice to each other. We never argued!’
‘Never?’ Myfanwy looks suspicious. ‘What do you mean never?’ she asks, adding dryly, ‘Bullshit.’
I nod, the tears momentarily stopping. ‘It’s not, we didn’t argue. I’m not just saying that. We really didn’t!’
‘But how?’ Myfanwy looks even angrier. ‘Even I argued with Daniel. Everyone’s annoying sometimes.’
‘Of course,’ I nod again, slower this time. ‘And obviously there were times when he bugged me a little bit, but it was never anything big enough that seemed worth falling out over. So I just let it go.’
‘Everyone should argue,’ Sonali points out, her voice slightly scolding. ‘Avoiding conflict only leads to resentment.’
‘Wait, you didn’t even argue over wedding planning?’ Toni is wide-eyed with shock. But she argues with Shawn all the time. Some people just don’t like confrontation and can let things go; it’s not weird.
I shake my head. ‘Not really. We were stressed about it but we had a common enemy in Celeste. I just felt terrible he was being forced into WeddingCon.’ I pause, considering this and letting the guilt flood back in, washing away my anger. ‘This really is my fault. I should’ve stood up to Celeste, I shouldn’t have let her and all of the mess she brought get in our way.’ I wipe my face with my coat sleeve then look between my friends, who all share the same unrecognizable expression. ‘I know Daniel shouldn’t have dealt with it the way he has, but I have to take some accountability.’ I down the cocktail before me in one. ‘Do you think, if I finally tell Celeste off and promise him he never has to deal with her again, that he’d come back? That we could make it work?’
There is a sad silence around the table that some part of me – some faraway part – understands. But I’m too far gone.
‘Do you guys think there’s someone else?’ I say it in a quiet voice: the thing I’ve been thinking all along.
On the table before us, my phone lights up with a message and the name on it makes my vision swim with stars.
It’s him. Daniel.
‘Shit,’ Sonali comments, sounding alarmed, while Toni gasps.
I pick it up, afraid and hopeful. Maybe it’s taken Daniel all this time to realize he’s completely fucked up. That he’s sorry and wants to try again. I open WhatsApp and read his words slowly, terrified I will miss something or read it wrong in my current emotional state.
‘Hey,’ it begins, which feels like a bad start. With people you love and know inside out, you rarely start with a greeting. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to continue.
Hey, I hope you’re doing OK. Sorry to do this, but I can’t carry on paying half the rent on the flat. We’re nearly at the end of our contract, so I’ve just messaged the landlord to let him know. I’ll carry on paying until then but we’ll both have to be out by 29th August. Dx
I burst – back – into tears.
Myfanwy lifts the phone gently from my grasp and there is silence on the other side of the table as she passes it around and they all read his message.
It’s over. It’s really over. If I wasn’t sure before, I really am now. And on top of everything, I now have to find somewhere new to live. How had that not occurred to me? The sadness of that might not be up on the same level as getting dumped, but it’s very real and very painful. I love our flat. Our cosy, one-bed flat on the outer edges of London with its local 24-hour booze and biscuit shop across the road and friendly drug dealer, Kevin, two doors down. I love living there and I love my life there.
But there’s absolutely no chance at all that I can afford the rent on my own.
Across the table Myfanwy whispers something and when I catch it, the reality hits me.
‘The loss of an independence…’
Prediction number two.
I’m going to have to move back in with my mum. It’s my only option. Toni lives with her, but she’s only twenty-three. Living with your parents in your twenties is practically the only way to survive these days, but moving back when you’re in your thirties is all kinds of humiliating. Plus, Toni doesn’t seem to mind our mother’s overbearing tendencies like I do. I feel suffocated and claustrophobic being around her at work, never mind in her house, in her vice-like clutches.
It’s going to kill me.
Maybe I could afford a houseshare somewhere? Except I know Toni’s been searching for something affordable in the London housing market for a year with no luck. Landlords are squeezing everyone out to make room for yet more Airbnbs. I know everyone probably assumes I can just ask Celeste for money. She’s rich and famous, right? But she’s always been clear that there would never be any handouts in our family. She’s earned her money; we have to earn ours. She will help me if I ask – but only with my old room, not with cash.
I don’t have any other options.
I’m single, jilted, about to be stuck living with my parents, and cursed by a fortune teller.
The wails come thicker and faster as everyone fusses over me.
‘Should we call someone?’ I hear Sonali murmur the question as Myfanwy replies quickly.
‘Not Celeste.’
‘I’ll call Aunt Diane,’ Toni says and I feel her moving away from the table. It makes me cry harder.
‘Is she OK?’ It’s the guy from before and he’s slopping an overflowing ex or espresso martini into my lap. The tears come even faster. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asks. ‘She on her period or something?’
‘Fuck off,’ Myfanwy snarls and I stop crying for a second.
‘Do you want to marry me?’ I implore him and he takes a tiny step back.
‘Huh?’
I sit up straighter. ‘Do you want to get married? I have, like, a whole wedding ready and planned for a week’s time. We could make it work.’ I take a big gulp of the drink he’s just bought me as he watches with frightened eyes. ‘I’m a really nice girlfriend, I swear! I do the washing-up and I take the bins out. I know how to bleed radiators and I can cook four different meals really, really well. OK, two of them are variations of the same cheese toastie but still.’
‘Um,’ his eyes dart back and forth, as he slowly backs away, crashing into several groups of people and not caring. I finally lose him in the crowd, as Myfanwy shuffles closer, encircling me with her arms.
‘He seemed nice, didn’t he?’ I ask through shuddery sobs.
‘Not really,’ she says disagreeably. ‘That expresso thing should’ve been an instant deal-breaker, and then the period comment should’ve been a leg breaker.’
‘Oh right,’ I nod, still crying. ‘OK, fair enough. Well, what do I know about men? Clearly absolutely nothing. I thought Daniel was a nice guy who wouldn’t pack up his belongings and leave me on my birthday three weeks before our wedding, while I was at work wondering which cheese toastie I might make us for dinner.’
Myfanwy holds me closer as I try to catch my breath.
‘I just wish,’ I realize I’m shaking, ‘I just wish…’
‘What? What do you wish?’ Myfanwy asks kindly, stroking soggy, tear-soaked strands of hair away from my face.
‘I just wish Kirstie and Phil were here to cuddle me,’ I get the words out at last.
‘The TV presenters?’ She sounds confused.
‘No…’ I try to better form my thoughts into sentences. ‘They were going to be our dogs. Mine and Daniel’s. We were going to get two puppies and call them Kirstie and Phil. We thought that was really funny. Imagine running around the park throwing balls and shouting for them! KIRSTIE AND PHIL, DO YOU WANT A TREAT?’ I’m vaguely aware of more people glancing over as I shout about my imaginary dogs. ‘HEY KIRSTIE AND PHIL, DON’T POO OVER THERE! KIRSTIE AND PHIL, STOP SNIFFING THAT STRANGER’S CROTCH, IT’S RUDE!’ I pause. ‘But Daniel said we had to wait until after we got married and bought a place. I thought he was being sensible – usually I’m the boring one – but maybe he was already planning on leaving me, even then. He didn’t want to get Kirstie and Phil because he didn’t want to be with me. He didn’t want dependents tying us together.’
Toni returns to our table, and Sonali makes room for my sister as she drags her stool round to join Myfanwy and me in our tight huddle. She’s brought tissues and I wipe my face with them, trying not to think about the mascara mess my face must be right now. Sonali takes one too, dabbing at her own eyes.
‘Diane’s on her way,’ she says quietly. ‘She’s going to drive you home, Gin.’
I nod, relieved. My Aunt Diane is the parental figure I need right now. I need to be mothered, but not by my mother.
‘Do you think that man is OK?’ I ask, embarrassment finally arriving. I glance around, noticing several of the bar’s clientele are still watching the show. I nod awkwardly at a group of women nearby, who raise their glasses and nod back solemnly in solidarity. They’re not judging – they recognize dumped.
‘I’m sure he’s fine.’ Myfanwy waves her hand. ‘He was an idiot, and you’re allowed to stand up for yourself with idiots.’
‘And at least you got a free expresso martini out of it,’ Toni says cheerfully as Sonali and Myfanwy shoot her daggers.
‘That’s true,’ I say, grabbing it and downing it in one – coffee beans and all.