Chapter 11
Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Rey
I’m sorry
Can we talk?
I’m sorry
Abby
Please.
Good night
I’m sorry
E
rik’s string of texts were going to remain unanswered.
Abby had never been so mortified.
She wasn’t even angry at him. She was the one who had been caught out. But telling him he could stop apologising would mean facing him and talking to him and there was no universe in which she was prepared for that to happen. Talking to him would mean that she had to apologise, thereby acknowledging that she’d been caught with her pants down—literally—moaning her best friend’s name. And that wasn’t exactly polite British breakfast conversation.
Mulling over the options available to her, she determined that leaving in the middle of the night, changing her identity, and going into hiding w as the only rational response to what had just happened.
‘I can never show my face outside this room again,’ Abby said by way of greeting as the megawatt smile of her second favourite person in the world filled the screen. By this time tomorrow, Sarah would probably have moved into the number one spot. Abby would need one contact left on the outside world.
‘Oh, honey, you look wrecked . Please tell me that big strong man is taking a shower after absolutely ruining you.’ Sarah looked gleeful.
‘In a manner of speaking.’ Abby took stock of her friend’s expertly applied makeup. The dress revealing a scientifically perfect amount of cleavage. ‘Are you on your way out? This can wait.’
‘A new guy started in Zoe’s office this week and she wants to go drinking to forget what a prick he is.’ Sarah rolled her eyes. ‘Ten pounds says they’re screwing within a month. That can wait. This absolutely cannot. Spill!’
Sarah’s smirk grew impossibly big as Abby recounted the events of the trip so far, starting with their unplanned night in the same bed, continuing to Erik’s weird intensity the evening before, their spat in the pool, and finishing with, well, the climax.
‘Okay, can we go back to the fact that he was spooning you? Like, two utensils in a drawer, your butt pressed against his dick, full-on spooning ?’
Abby grimaced. ‘I may have…snuggled? A little. Right before he bolted away from me and put as much space between us as the bed would physically allow.’
Sarah cackled. ‘Aaaand that would be the moment he realised he was about to get a boner. And if he doesn’t have one right now, there might actually be something wrong with that man. Which begs the question: what the fuck are you doing sitting here talking to me?’
‘It’s not funny!’ Abby wailed. ‘He must be disgusted with me. And I’ll have you know I am one hundred percent blaming you for this. Up until two days ago I didn’t even own a vibrator.’
‘Would that have stopped any of this from happening?’
‘It might have made what was happening slightly less obvious!’
‘Sweetie, if you looked like that, there is absolutely no doubt he still would have known exactly what you were doing. And how you look, by the way, is stupid hot. I’d do you right now, and you know I don’t care for blondes. So again I ask you, why are you here when he is right next door. I don’t care what you say, there’s no fucking way he’s not horny as hell. So go get your man, who I guarantee would be very easily persuaded to do absolutely unspeakable things to you. I’m amazed he didn’t just pounce on you during that little scene in the pool. Then walking in on you like that? It’s a wonder he didn’t explode on the spot.’
Abby winced, casting her mind to the shock and panic on Erik’s face as he’d realised what he was seeing. ‘I think I really fucked up, Sarah,’ she said softly. ‘Touching yourself while you’re thinking about a celebrity or a fictional character is whatever, right? But a real-life person? Who is also your oldest friend?’
That familiar sense of shame and guilt washed over her, magnified by the embarrassment of Erik’s interruption and her fear of his response.
‘I’m pretty sure it becomes okay when you two were just five seconds away from ripping each other’s clothes off in a public space. And sweetie,’ Sarah’s voice softened, ‘I know you have some hang ups around sex stuff; it’s why I bought the toy for you in the first place. Everyone deserves good orgasms if they want them. But what you just did? It’s pretty normal. From your perspective, it’s unfortunate that the object of your fantasies walked in when he did. From his perspective…let’s just say I’d be shocked if he’s never done the same thing. I guarantee you the only thing Erik is upset about right now is that he’s alone in his bed.’
‘I’ve told you, he doesn’t—’
‘And I’ve told you : you’re in denial. I’ve never met two people so deliberately blind. Have you actually seen the way he looks at you, Abby? Sweetie, I get warm and flustered when I’m in the same room as you two. It’s this, like, pure, sweet adoration—I know you see that, at least, even if you’re woefully misguided about what it means—but under that there’s this simmering heat like he wants to take a bite out of you. You are most definitely not just his friend,’ Sarah spat, ‘and don’t even try telling me you don’t think of him that way, because I have a soy sauce stain on my favourite rug that says otherwise.’
From the moment Sarah had met Erik four years before, every time he came up she mentioned how unfairly hot he was. How palpable the chemistry he had with Abby was. How clearly he was into her.
And Abby had spent years immediately denying it. Effusively reminding Sarah that he was her best friend. That she’d known him forever. That they didn’t see each other that way. And for almost six years, Sarah had simply smiled and rolled her eyes at Abby’s protests.
But a few months earlier, just a handful of days after Abby had spent the night with Finn, she had received an email from Erik. It was no different to his usual communication. He had caught her up on what was happening at work, given her some film recommendations, and asked for book suggestions. Still, a piece of her heart she’d been forcing down for years rose to the surface as she read his words, bringing with it an overwhelming host of feelings that had been suppressed and ignored.
She could have convinced herself she was still raw from her breakup with Sam. Could have made herself believe that the discomfort she’d felt after sleeping with Finn had come from trying to move on too quickly. Instead, she’d sat on the floor of her bedroom, glass of wine in hand, looking through old photos with Erik and sobbing from the pain of facing her feelings for the first time in seven years.
She was in love with her best friend.
She had been for a long time.
And it didn’t matter. Because she’d had her chance, and she’d thrown it away.
Teary and tipsy was how Sarah had found her an hour later, and she immediately launched into crisis management mode. She forced Abby into a shower while she ran to the corner shop for another case of wine. By the time she came back, their Chinese was being delivered, and it all came spilling out over far too much broccoli chicken and multiple bottles of wine.
Abby told her the extent of her history with Erik. How they’d been inseparable since birth. That every major moment in her life had been spent by his side. The easy physical and emotional intimacy that had come from knowing him so well. All things Sarah knew, at least on some level. But finally, choking through the thickness in her throat, she moved on to more recent history.
For the first time ever, she told Sarah about their leaver’s ball. The night she had rested her head on Erik’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her as they swayed, and finally confronted the full force of her feelings for him. She’d marvelled at how it was possible to contain so much, and wondered how she had possibly mistaken it for anything less than what it was: overwhelming, all-consuming love. He had looked at her like he wanted to kiss her, and for the first time, she’d admitted to herself that he looked at her that way rather a lot. And that she’d been looking back the same way.
It was the night before she had made the biggest mistake of her life, and she told Sarah about that painful memory, and everything that had come after. The years of pining for her best friend, trying desperately not to want the one thing she couldn’t have. Surviving on every scrap of Erik she could get in the months he was away, then bathing herself in him for the short times they were together.
Sarah had let her confess and cry and feel sorry for herself. And a few days later, when Abby was feeling slightly less vulnerable, she had told her she was an idiot if she thought Erik didn’t feel the same.
‘And I stand by what I said back then,’ Sarah continued loudly. ‘He’s as hopelessly in love with you as you are with him. Has he gone back to taking absolutely any excuse to touch you? Kissing your cheek or your forehead or your hand or your hair about five times a minute? Putting an arm around your waist and pulling you in close? Because that’s not normal, hun. And if it was as innocent and platonic as you insist it is, all that touching wouldn’t suddenly stop as soon as one of you starts seeing someone. Because it means something. You two are addicted to each other. In like a cute, romantic, non-toxic way,’ she finished, wrinkling her nose.
The words pierced Abby’s heart. She knew that was why she craved Erik. Why she allowed the touching, encouraged it even. But even entertaining the idea that it was mutual hurt too much. Because when the bubble on her delusion burst, it would destroy her.
‘He wants to talk,’ Abby said meekly.
‘It’s the boring approach.’ Sarah shrugged. ‘I’m still a firm proponent of the plan where you put down the phone, barge into his room, and start aggressively making out, but talking is probably not a bad idea. You’re on holiday. Together. In adjacent rooms. With your parents. How long do you think you can possibly avoid him for?’
‘You’re a genius!’
Sarah’s face said obviously .
‘I can’t avoid him forever, but I can avoid being alone with him. In which case we can’t talk about any of this. For the rest of the trip, I’ll just go along with all the ridiculous old people things our parents want to do.’
It would be agonising, but less so than facing Erik after what had just happened.
‘Or you could act like a grownup,’ Sarah said cheerily. ‘Talk it out, then bang it out. Just saying.’
Abby chose to ignore that. Another thought gave her pause.
‘What do I do about Finn?’
‘Do you like him?’
‘He’s cute and he’s lovely and I had a good time with him—‘ Abby faltered.
‘...and his is not the name you were moaning,’ Sarah finished.
Abby nodded glumly.
‘I’m going to say one more time that I think you should walk next door and jump him. But since I know you’re not going to do that, get some sleep, hun. Text Finn and tell him you don’t want to meet up. While you’re at it, maybe book an emergency session with the therapist you’ve been ignoring to talk about why you think you don’t deserve nice things. Then face up to Erik. If he’s a dick about it, forget the rest of the trip and come home early. But he won’t be. And I think that scares you more than anything.’
‘I hate how smart you are,’ Abby grumbled.
Sarah blew a kiss and adjusted the top of her dress. ‘Zoe’s almost here and I’m all tapped out on advice. Time to go make poor decisions of my own.’