Chapter 48 Now #2
And so it’s the next five minutes I’m thinking about as my car slowly pulls into the road.
I’m not entirely sure where I’m going yet, but that doesn’t matter.
I just need to drive. And this five-minute focus is working, although it’s a little like having goggles, blinkers, and earplugs on in a neon rave.
I can focus on what’s immediately in front of me, but I can feel the weight of everything else pulsing against me, fighting for attention.
After the first five minutes pass, I know that the next must be spent formulating a plan, or at least a destination. Not to Will’s. Not home. Not yet. Friends. Good friends. I had those once. Not anymore. Not in the same way. But I do still have friends.
Friends I can call on?
Five minutes.
That’s all I need to do. That’s all I need to plan. And it works. I have a destination in mind. It’s a very long drive away, and I don’t even know if she’ll be there, but it’s something.
I think about texting a heads-up, and then don’t. And then I do my best to think of nothing at all except getting to where I need to be. If I try to think of anything else, I might fall apart.
And so when Emily finds me on her doorstep, approaching ten o’clock in the evening, she’s surprised, to say the least.
“Natalie?”
There’s no delighted surprise, only confusion, and this already feels like a horrible mistake.
I thought I was so smart with my little five-minute trick, but it’s prevented me from thinking through what would happen when I landed here.
If I’d thought about it at all, I would have known it was a bad idea.
“Hi!” I say, and my hello is too cheery, too forced.
It alarms Emily, who physically recoils.
Even before the Big Fallout, it had been months since we’d seen each other in person.
By now, it’s been several years. It was a gamble coming back to this house, but I knew owning it greatly increased the chances of her staying put.
“Nat, it’s been…What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
“Yes. Yeah.” Be normal, Natalie. “I just…I had a bit of a day and was in the area. Started thinking about you, I guess. I wondered if you might be free for a coffee or something.”
“A coffee?” Her urge to check her smartwatch is so strong it’s almost visible, but she manages to refrain, wrist just twitching. She takes in the unhinged eyes I’m trying to hide and the slight tremor in my voice. “Coffee…That, um…That sounds good. Come in.”
The door yawns wider as she lets me in, and I see she’s in her pajamas already. Guilt needles at me. Her slippers make a soothing shushing sound as she shuffles into the corridor, ushering me in. Her living room sits on the left, lights dark and booming sounds coming from within.
“We were just watching a movie,” she explains.
I poke my head in, and a handsome brown face looks back at me, confused. Her boyfriend. Must be. I withdraw and look back at Emily.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have just turned up like this. I’ll just—”
“Don’t be silly.” She pops her head into the living room doorway. “Ash, you remember I told you about my friend Natalie? The one from school?”
Confusion morphs into alarm. I shudder to think what she’s said about me. Still, he does his best to sweep the concern away. Gets up, approaches with a warm smile. He has kind eyes. “Hi. Ash. Nice to meet you.”
We shake hands and I almost laugh at the formality of it.
“We’re just going to grab a hot drink,” Emily says. “Fancy a tea?”
“Nah, I’m all right,” Ash says. He casts a look at Emily before he sits. “Just let me know if you need anything from me, yeah?”
I follow Emily to the back of the house and down some stairs, landing in a bright and airy kitchen, a pretty kitchen island in the middle of it.
The space is a little busy, but it’s nice, homier than when I was last there and she was renting out the rooms to old uni friends.
Certainly miles nicer than the place I was in before I lived with James.
A pang of guilt arrives with that thought. I have to wonder if I’ve turned a blind eye to what now seems so obvious about him for that reason. For the comfort he provides.
“Why don’t you grab a stool?” Emily suggests, palm outstretched to a tall chair pushed against the island.
Of course. It’s not normal to just stand stock-still in the middle of a kitchen, eyes glazed. I do as I’m told.
We’re a little quiet as she busies herself with the kettle and mugs, taking a few moments with her phone while she waits for the kettle to boil.
“I’m thinking maybe tea would be better at this time,” she says. “Or decaf?”
“You choose, I’m not fussed.”
Before long, Emily is plonking herself onto a stool beside me, big mugs of something faintly fruity and herbal steaming in front of both of us. I take a sip. I imagine it’s meant to be calming.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but I’m surprised you’re here,” Emily says. “Do you want to start by telling me about this day you’ve had, then?”
I go to open my mouth and choke on the words. Despair begins to take hold of me as I realize how futile this is. I’ve come all the way here, but I can’t tell her about anything. Tears spring from my eyes. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know why I’m here.
Emily’s shoulders hitch up and her eyes scan the room. There’s kitchen roll within arm’s reach and she grabs it, tearing off a sheet and shoving it into my hands.
“Nat, what’s going on?”
“It’s just…” What can I say? “Things aren’t great, I guess.”
Her brow wrinkles. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…”
As I rummage through the clutter of my mind for safe words, Emily begins to assemble an image in her own.
“I saw your wedding on Instagram. Has your husband…Has he done something to you?” she asks, eyes flicking to the phone on the counter.
The tears begin to transform into tremors that gently ripple through my body. I’m unspooling in her kitchen and I don’t know how to stop it.
“Has he…Has he hurt you?”
I shake my head hard.
“Sorry I’ve just shown up here. And it’s so late. And I’m not even saying anything…” I pause, try to stem the flow of tears. “I just…I realized I don’t really have anyone else who knows me to go to.”
She stares down at her mug, runs her fingernails around the cerulean ceramic, artificial light glinting off the gloss in splotches of warm white.
“Wasn’t that sort of the point?” she says quietly.
I say nothing. “I mean, at first…At first I thought you’d gone quiet on me because you were grieving.
That made sense. And I thought you might blame me for flaking that night.
Not showing up. That you thought things might have been different if I was there—”
It’s so shocking that it’s sobering. The tears stop. “Oh my god, Em. I never blamed you. Not even for one second.”
She shrugs, voice thickening. “I wasn’t mad. I mean, I blamed myself.” She pauses, finds tears escaping. “Fuck’s sake, now you’ve got me at it.”
We both laugh, and I’m reminded of why I felt so compelled to come here. Being with her feels like coming home.
“Anyway, it wasn’t until you finally took my call that I realized why you were avoiding me. Why you’d been avoiding everyone we knew.” She pauses, looks at me with a question in her eye. “I guess we can talk about it now, then?”
I nod. “Yeah, I…I guess that’s partly why I’m here. I had to confront that today. Admit that she’s…” I choke on the word. “…dead.” And it’s no one’s fault but mine.
“Oh.” She sighs, then chuckles. There’s sympathy, but also a little disappointment.
I’m sure it doesn’t feel like an event worth showing up like this for.
“I’m worried about you. You don’t seem yourself—if I’m allowed to say that after so long apart—but I’m glad you came to see me.
” A hand reaches out, squeezes my arm. And it’s like that small bit of contact reminds her of the artificiality of the boundaries the years have built between us.
She leaps out of her stool and pulls me up into a hug.
Her hair still smells of the same apple shampoo.
I come undone. The tears are free-flowing, but in her arms, for the first time in a while, I feel like I might be okay, a lightness rising in me.
And then Emily says, “Who’s James?”
I feel heavy again. We disentangle and I follow her line of sight. His name flashes up from the screen of the phone I’ve left lying on the glossy island.
“My husband,” I say.
“He’s called a couple of times.”
The screen goes dark but flares back to life as he rings again.
When the doorbell goes, my body goes rigid. Emily knows me too well, brow scrunching.
“Babe!” she yells into the corridor. “Don’t get th—” But it’s too late.
The sound of muffled male voices becomes clearer as we approach.
“…I think she might need a minute with Emily. But if you wait in the living room—”
“She’s been having a hard time lately. I think it’s best if we just go home.”
We arrive in time to watch James step around Ash. His eyes lock onto mine.
“Natalie,” he says. “It’s time to go.”