Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
A rriving back at Cat’s flat, I’m shaking to the point that I can barely get my key in the lock and my legs are threatening to give way. After a few failed attempts, I throw open the door, tear down the hallway and launch myself onto the bed in her spare room, sobbing my heart out. The scene of Cat and Dave getting up close and personal seems to have been programmed on repeat in my mind.
How could this be? My best friend and my ex. Right under my nose.
Unable to comprehend what I’ve witnessed, it’s like I’m suffocating, tears streaming down my face for the second time this weekend. I go over and over what I saw, trying to find the part where I got things wrong and the man she was with wasn’t actually Dave – but much as I wish that my eyes have deceived me, there’s no mistake. I saw them plain as day. They were intimate, familiar, touchy-feely. I just can’t believe that she’d do that. We’ve been inseparable since we were kids, and she’s never done anything remotely bad or wicked in her life – especially not to me. We tell each other things we’d never tell anyone else. As far as I know, she doesn’t have a single secret I don’t know about.
But she does , a little voice in my head reminds me. She’s been keeping this man hidden away, making out that her budding relationship is too new and shiny and vulnerable to share. What if that wasn’t the full truth?
It still doesn’t make sense, though. The Cat I know would never dream of betraying me.
Come on, Emma, don’t be na?ve . These things do happen. ‘My best friend slept with my boyfriend’. It’s a well-worn headline from women’s magazines.
But why would Cat go near Dave when she knew how he treated me?
Sadly, I already know the answer to that one. Dave was absolutely charming for the first couple of years. He knew how to play the ultimate boyfriend – while it was in his interests to do so. Then things shifted, so subtly and slowly that I didn’t notice until it was too late. I made so many excuses for him.
No doubt Dave has persuaded Cat that he wasn’t being so awful to me; that we just weren’t right for each other and that I’d realise it was for the best. She’s been so desperate to have a successful relationship that she’s probably fooled herself into thinking he’s genuine. And she’ll know it’s wrong, but perhaps can’t stop herself. The need to feel wanted, desirable, even just for a few minutes, stronger than any attack of conscience. Then, with that line crossed, it has been be easier to justify doing it again and again. Because the damage has already been done.
I get up and pace around the room, searching my memory for any other signs that I’ve missed. At first, I come up empty handed, but then little snippets begin to surface. So fleeting, I almost can’t catch them as they whizz through my mind. Those strange, troubled looks I saw on Cat’s face. She was the one who rescued me from the park on D-day. I never questioned for a second why Dave had her number. The strength of her reaction when I told her I had met up with him this week – was it jealousy, perhaps? And, of course, keeping her new man (who might not be so new after all) a secret when she always shared everything with me. I thought I understood. Her explanations made sense, but it must have been an attempt to conceal what was really going on. Cat also talked about how her bloke had been away with his friends, while Dave had mentioned being away too – at the same time. I can’t deny that it all adds up.
Realising there are so many signs that I’ve missed, it’s clear that I’ve not just been blind, I’ve been a complete fool. I didn’t have a clue.
What am I going to do? I can’t stay here at Cat’s and pretend everything’s OK. I have to confront her about this, which means I’m about to find myself homeless for the second time in just a few weeks. I have the money to get my own place, but that’s not going to happen overnight and there’s no way I’m going to stay with my parents. There’s only one solution: I’ll need to check back into a hotel.
Wrestling with the urge to have it out with Cat the moment she gets home, I’m lucid enough to realise that I’d be better to sleep on it, get things straight in my head, and move my stuff out in the morning when it’s light. I’m also too devastated to have that kind of showdown tonight.
Before going to bed, I pack as much as I can into a couple of suitcases, quickly realising that there’s too much. My new wardrobe has doubled the number of belongings I have, so I’ll have to come back for them at a later date. Then, I lie in bed in the dark, rehearsing the conversation with Cat. My tortured mind creates multiple versions of what I’ll say and how she’ll respond: running through scenario after scenario until I hear her key in the lock at around two a.m.. She tip-toes past my door to her bedroom, where she’ll no doubt dream about her not-so-new-after-all man while I’m left lying awake, in an endless cycle of torment.
Waking after a fretful sleep, which only engulfed me when the sun was coming up, I’m groggy and exhausted for the second morning in a row. I can hear Cat clattering around in the kitchen, no doubt cooking up a tasty Sunday brunch. I had hoped my devastation would develop into anger overnight, fuelling my courage for the most difficult interaction of my life. Instead, my only overwhelming emotions this morning are sadness and a sense of loss. My stomach pools with dread, while I automatically search for excuses to put the conversation off, perhaps even altogether. But it has to be done and there’s no easy way about it. I’m just going to have to get it over with.
Realising I’ll need to be ready to leave as soon as this is over, I take a quick shower, and throw on some clothes, which helps me feel fresher and stronger. However, as I’m about to enter the kitchen, that strength deserts me and I almost flee back to the safety of my room. But I know I can’t. Any woman with an ounce of self-respect wouldn’t let this go.
Steadying myself against the doorframe, I take a faltering breath and enter the kitchen.
‘Morning, sleepy head.’ Cat doesn’t look round. ‘I thought I would be the last one up today. You must have been really done in after Friday night.’
She’s so busy coordinating the cooking of the food, getting the plates, cutlery, tea and toast ready, she doesn’t notice that I haven’t said a word.
‘By the way, where’s your favourite mug?’ she asks. ‘I’ve looked everywhere but I can’t see it.’
I remain silent, causing her to turn and look at me properly for the first time.
‘Emma… are you OK?’
Tears are welling in my eyes. I’m terrified. After it’s out, there’s no going back. I heave a loaded sigh.
‘Um… no. Actually, I’m not OK.’
‘What’s up?’ Her face brims with concern. ‘Oh, honey, I knew I should have stayed home with you last night. You’ve had such a challenging time recently. It’s all become too much, hasn’t it?’
‘Cat… stop .’ I can’t take this facade any longer. ‘My mug is packed in a suitcase in the bedroom.’
She appears perplexed, but says nothing.
‘You’re right, things have become too much for me. But it’s not really about Friday or the last couple of weeks. It’s about… argh , I don’t know how to say this…’
‘Emma, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?’
‘I… I know, Cat. About you. And Dave. Your… little secret.’ I can’t bring myself to spell it out, but I know that she’s understood because the colour has drained from her face. She switches off the gas under the food she’s cooking.
‘You… you know?’ she stammers as my worst fears are confirmed.
I still had a flicker of hope that maybe it wasn’t Dave she was with and my overtaxed brain was causing me to hallucinate, but I didn’t get it wrong. It was him, and it’s clear from Cat’s reaction that there’s no mix up.
‘Yes, I know, Cat. And quite frankly, I feel shocked and betrayed beyond belief. I thought we were friends… best friends … who tell each other everything. Not to mention trust each other completely.’
Cat looks like she’s about to burst into tears, tugging on my natural instinct to comfort and protect her, as I’ve always done. I can’t do that now. Not when the reason she’s upset is because she’s been caught out deceiving me.
‘Emma, I never meant to hurt you…’ She looks at the ground. ‘Sorry, that’s such a predictable response, but it’s true, I really—’
‘How would I not be hurt by this, Cat?’ I cut across her.
‘I know, and I’m so sorry, but it was a shock to me as well. It put me in a terrible position, and the longer I left it, the more I realised that I couldn’t tell you. The guilt was eating me up, but you were getting on with your life and doing so well. I thought it would do more harm than good.’
This is completely absurd. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with Cat. And what the hell does she think she’s doing? It’s like she’s looking for sympathy from me when she’s the one in the wrong. The anger that was so noticeably absent, finally starts to simmer.
‘More like you didn’t want to admit it,’ I throw back. ‘And risk destroying our friendship.’
‘Well, obviously. We’ve been friends forever.’ Tears are now trickling down her cheeks. ‘We’ve never fallen out in all the time we’ve known each other.’
I stare at her, unable to fathom her response. ‘So, you chickened out? That’s convenient. I should have guessed something was up when you started being secretive.’
Cat’s gaping at me now, stunned into silence. She looks like she might faint, but I’m all out of sympathy.
‘Want to know how I found out? I took a walk last night because I was restless and I found myself near the bar you were in. I thought I’d be a bit naughty and take a sneak peek at your new man, and boy did I get a shock. What I can’t understand is, why Dave? Why my man? Ex-man, obviously, thanks to you. All this time you’ve pretended to be so supportive… the best friend in the world. What was it really, Cat? Guilt? Or just a way to keep me from suspecting anything?’ I come to an abrupt and defiant halt, while on the inside I’m on the verge of meltdown. This confrontation is one of the worst moments of my entire life.
‘Emma, I can’t believe what you… It’s not like that at all.’ Cat’s demeanour has shifted from one of entrapment and guilt to hurt, which winds me up even more. I can’t believe she has the nerve to act like an injured party in this.
‘ Oh, come on , Cat. How can anything you say make this better?’ I continue to glare at her.
She seems like she’s about to speak again, but instead goes to the hob, switches the heat back on and restarts cooking the food.
‘I hope he’s worth it.’ I find myself talking to the back of her again. ‘Because I can’t help thinking he’ll screw you over the same way he did me.’
She stays silent, the only sound her sniffing as she continues to cry.
‘All right, I guess I’m out of here then.’ I rub my face wearily, unable to comprehend that this is happening. ‘I’ll ask Amber or Sara to come and collect the rest of my stuff.’
Leaving the kitchen, I head to the door with my things and call a taxi, aware that I have far too much to fit in the boot of my (totally impractical, I now realise) new car .
‘Where to, love?’ The taxi driver asks, as he helps me with my luggage and I climb forlornly into the back seat.
‘Don’t know. Nearest hotel, I guess. Make it a cheap one.’
‘Right you are.’ He glances at me in his mirror as he manoeuvres his way back onto the road. ‘Bad day?’
I wipe a rogue tear from my cheek. ‘You have no idea.’