Chapter Twelve #2
I think about Beth while I work. It’s impossible not to.
I wonder what Jude said to her, whether he asked her to give him another chance, and if he did, what she said in response.
I torture myself with scenes of him on his knees, begging for forgiveness, and her unable to resist him, pulling him to his feet, and kissing him.
Angry with myself for doing all the things I tell my clients not to do, I try my best to practice mindfulness and concentrate on the task at hand, forcing myself to sing all the lyrics to each song that comes on the playlist on my phone, and put Beth to the back of my mind.
It doesn’t work, but I kid myself that at least I’m trying.
We work until five, and by that time, we’re all knackered.
I walk home, and the first thing I do is take a long, hot shower. When I come out, I check my phone, but there’s still no message from Beth.
Surely, if she’d met with Jude and they’d decided the breakup still stood, she would have contacted me? I can only presume it means she’s asked to give it another go.
My thumb hovers over Beth’s contact as I fight with myself not to press the call button.
I want to talk to her, and to find out what happened today.
But I don’t think I could bear the feeling of rejection when she says she’s decided to stay with him.
So in the end I toss the phone onto the armchair, untouched.
Frustrated and sad, and too tired to cook, I order a pizza and eat it in front of the TV with a beer.
Then I fall asleep watching a movie. When I wake around eleven, tired and groggy, I stumble off to bed and collapse, trying not to think about her body pressed up against me, and how wonderful it was that she was mine, if only for one night.
*
On Tuesday morning, I rouse and reach for my phone, only then realizing I must have left it in the living room. I pad out in my boxers and retrieve it, and flick it on while walking to the kitchen to fire up the coffee machine.
I stop dead as I see a notification from Beth. She called me last night, around nine p.m.
Dammit! My phone was on silent, and I hadn’t felt the vibration because it was on the armchair and I was on the sofa.
I check the time—it’s only 6:45 a.m., so the sun isn’t quite up yet, although the horizon is filled with a beautiful peach glow. Too early to call her. Instead, I send a text. Hey! You called me last night? So sorry, I was asleep. Everything okay?
Heart hammering, I put the phone aside and start making myself a coffee.
I’ve just finished steaming the milk when my phone vibrates repeatedly, announcing a call. I snatch it up, see her name, and answer it. “Hello?”
“Good morning.” She sounds as if she’s smiling.
“Hey you.” I pour the milk over the espresso, take the mug over to the window, and look out at the view as I sip it. “I’m so sorry I missed you last night.”
“That’s okay. You must have been tired.”
“I was working at PAWS all day in the garden. I was knackered. I fell asleep in front of the TV.”
“Aw, you poor thing.” Her voice is teasing, playful.
I clear my throat. “Isla said she covered for you in the morning because you were off sick. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just couldn’t face going in. I’ll be in today, though.”
I screw my face up, wondering whether to mention it, then decide oh what the hell. “She also said Jude was going to see you at lunchtime.” As soon as I say it, I wince, thinking that I sound as if I’m spying on her.
But she just sighs and says, “Yeah, he turned up at Kim’s house. It was tough. I asked Kim to stay, but I kinda wish I hadn’t.”
“Because… you wanted to be alone with him?”
“No, no. It turns out that she and Simon have decided their marriage is over.”
“Ohhh… no.”
“Yeah, and she feels bad that what’s happened between them is influencing me and Jude. She tried to convince me to stay with him, saying that I shouldn’t make the same mistake she has, you know, worrying about conceiving, that I should just let things happen.”
“What did Jude say?”
“He wants us to try again.”
I look out at the tip of the sun as it peeps above the horizon, flooding the sky with light. “Right.”
“But… I couldn’t seem to explain to either of them that it wasn’t just about our argument over children. That being with him is just so… hard.” She blows out a breath. “It shouldn’t be that hard. Should it? Or am I bailing too early?”
I grit my teeth. I want to tell her that she’s mad to stay with him. That he doesn’t deserve her. And that she should definitely jump ship.
But I force myself to be honest, because in this case I know she’s asking me as a friend, not as a prospective lover.
“If you’re asking me ‘do all relationships take work,’ I have to say yes.
Every connection we make in life, whether it’s a romantic one, a familial one, or a friendship, takes work—compromise, communication, and understanding. ”
“Yeah.”
“But it has to come from both sides, Beth. So I guess the question is, are you meeting in the middle? Is he making the same amount of effort that you are?”
“No,” she says, immediately. “He’s not.”
She told me at The Driftwood that Jude was like a plastic mold, and she was a piece of plasticine, and she had to reshape herself when she was with him to make sure they fit together, so I understand her vehement reply.
“He never compromises,” she says. “And he never wants to talk about things, only tell me what I’m doing wrong.” She sighs then. “I’m sorry, I know he’s your best friend. And after what we did… Oh God, I shouldn’t be talking to you about this.”
“I don’t mind.”
“It’s just that I don’t have anyone else. Clearly, I can’t talk to Kim, and everyone else knows Jude, too. All my friends think the sun shines out of his arse. They’re all going to think I’m mad for breaking up with him.”
“Is that a good enough reason to stay?”
“No. Of course not. I suppose I just feel that I’ve invested so much time in this relationship. It’s so hard to throw it all away overnight.”
“I understand.”
We’re quiet for a moment. I sip my coffee, watching the seagulls wheeling around the fishing boats heading out to sea.
“I miss you,” she says.
My lips slowly curve up. “I miss you, too.”
“I keep thinking about Saturday night.”
“Me too.”
“I’ve never felt like that before,” she says softly.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. You made me feel… special.”
“You are special, Beth. Every man should treat the love of his life like a princess.”
“Jude’s never made me feel like that.”
I don’t say anything, but I frown.
“You met Chrissie, right?” she asks.
I continue to frown. Chrissie was a girl that Jude dated for three years while they were at university.
He was absolutely crazy about her, and he asked her to marry him.
But she said they were too young, and she wanted to travel.
They argued about it, and eventually she left and ended up traveling around the world.
Last I heard, she was living in Australia.
“Yeah,” I say.
“He still wears the ring she got him,” she says.
I know. I don’t reply.
“Do you think she was the love of his life?”
I close my eyes for a moment. Do I answer as Jude’s friend? As Beth’s friend? As a therapist? Or as her hopeful lover?
I open my eyes. “They broke up, so clearly something was amiss.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Only Jude can answer it properly. I think the point is that if he doesn’t make you feel as if you’re the love of his life, there’s a problem.”
“Yeah.”
I finish off my coffee. “Are you still staying at Kim’s?”
“I will tonight. But I’m going to ask around at work and see if anyone needs a house sitter or something. I need some time on my own.”
I feel a twinge of disappointment that she hasn’t asked if she can move in with me, but of course that’s ridiculous.
The good news is that she’s not going straight back to Jude.
She’s right; she needs time to put her relationship behind her, otherwise she’ll be on the rebound, and although I don’t care, it might not end well if she realizes she moved too fast.
“That makes sense,” I tell her. “I’ll ask around too, see if anyone knows of a place.”
“It’s February, so everywhere is going to be full. But I’m hoping something will turn up.” She sighs. “Okay I’d better get ready for work. Are you busy again today?”
“Yeah, I’m working at the other center for a few hours this morning, then this afternoon Isaac has asked me to call in at his offices to go over the costs for PAWS. Speaking of which, have you given any thought to working with us?”
“Yes. I just need a few more days to think about it. Is that okay?”
“Of course. Okay. I’ll see you soon. Bye.”
“Take care of yourself.”
“You too.”
We both hesitate. Then I end the call.
Immediately, I regret it. My thumb hovers over her name, and I have to fight with myself not to call her back and tell her I’m being an idiot. To tell her I love her. To beg her to choose me.
I walk back into the kitchen, put the cup in the dishwasher, and then walk through to the bathroom. I have a busy day ahead, and there’s no room in it for falling apart.