Chapter 12 #2
‘Sorry,’ she says with her hand over her mouth. ‘I have a super-fast metabolism – I’m always starving.’
‘All good.’
I eat my pizza and it really is good. ‘Oh my god!’ I exclaim with my mouth full, mimicking her.
‘Ha-ha-ha,’ Delaney laughs, her crinkled eyes meeting mine. ‘You dork.’
I shrug, then cut off another bite. We eat, sip our wine, and chat about the day, steering clear of heavier topics by unspoken agreement.
But when Delaney sits back, crossing one ankle over the other, and wiping her mouth on a cloth napkin, she brings us back to our pre-dinner conversation.
‘So, what about you and Pippa?’ she asks.
‘What about us?’
‘Don’t play coy – how did you two meet?’
‘We’ve known each other for… oh god… nearly seventeen years.’
‘Wow. Were you into her from the get-go?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Not like that – geez. I only meant, did you like her? You must have heard that expression before.’
‘I have, yes,’ I reply. ‘Sorry – I heard it differently in my head.’
She studies me and I look away, shaking my head at myself. Delaney’s right – I am a dork.
‘Anyway, to answer your question, I did find her attractive, but we were both heading off to uni – and we were very young – so why act on it?’
‘How romantic.’
‘Oi – I can be very romantic.’
‘Oh, I bet.’
‘I know you’re teasing, but what do you call this? This trip. Isn’t it romantic that I agreed to go on holiday to a mystery destination?’
‘Yeah, it’s romantic,’ she says with a shrug.
‘You sound really convinced,’ I retort sarcastically.
‘Okay,’ she says, leaning forward and sitting cross-legged again. ‘Going on what you just said, this trip was Pippa’s idea. Am I right?’
‘Yes,’ I reply, unsure where this is going.
‘So, she had the idea, she found True North, then she convinced you to do it.’
I look away, taking this on board. That’s almost verbatim how it went. Something occurs to me, and I look over.
‘That’s how it happened with you and Nicholas, isn’t it?’
‘Yep,’ she replies, clearly conflicted. ‘So, guess what would have been really romantic?’
‘If I’d thought of it – or any trip. If it had been my idea and I’d planned the whole thing and Pippa didn’t have to lift a finger.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Exactly,’ I echo.
Only now I’m not just talking about this trip, because isn’t that what Pippa did with the wedding? Her planning it as a surprise – in a foreign country with only a few days’ notice to get everything in place – that was her being romantic. She’s been giving me what she wants me to give her.
And I’ve failed her – twice, maybe more.
‘You see what I mean?’ asks Delaney.
I swing my head in her direction and nod. Do I tell her? Do I tell Delaney the real reason Dan and Becks are in Iceland? This might be a good time.
‘Can I say one more thing?’ she asks before I get a chance.
‘Sure.’
‘None of this makes you a bad guy.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘If you and Pippa haven’t talked about this stuff – which, I’m guessing you haven’t…’ I shake my head. ‘Well, then how can you be expected to know?’
‘Because I should know – we’ve been together for ages.’
‘But you’re not a mind-reader. Even if you’ve been with someone for a long time, they’re going to keep things from you, and it’s unfair if they punish you for not guessing their secrets.’
I stare at her, taking in her words.
‘How do you know all this?’ I ask. From what I can tell, her current relationship hardly qualifies her as an expert.
She laughs drily, seemingly at herself.
‘Hard-won experience,’ she replies vaguely and right when I’m sure that’s all she has to say, she continues.
‘It was a relationship from my twenties that went sour,’ she says evenly.
‘He thought that “I love you” came with the power to read his mind. When it turned out that – shockingly – it didn’t, he broke it off.
And sure, I dodged a bullet – that was really messed up – but it hurt like hell at the time.
Anyway, all I’m saying is that you may know each other really well, but it doesn’t mean you share a brain. ’
‘Mmm, fair point,’ I say, finally beginning to understand. With me and Pippa – it’s neither of our faults that we’re so misaligned and, at the same time, it’s both of our faults.
‘And there’s something else,’ Delaney says, drawing me back into the conversation.
I lean closer, enthralled by this new perspective.
‘I’m doing the same thing with Nicholas and I’m only now realising it – right this second.
It pisses me off that he won’t come visit me in LA, but do I ever say anything?
No! I go visit him in London, like a dutiful long-distance girlfriend, dropping casual hints that he should reciprocate.
But I’ve never come right out and asked him to come to LA. ’
We both let that sink in.
‘All that stuff I said before,’ she continues, ‘about not fighting – that’s not normal.
It’s like we’re perpetually dating but we’re not really in a relationship.
And now he’s in fucking Iceland – and I’m sure it’s very nice, but it is not even in my top ten – no, top one hundred! I mean, what am I even doing?’
There’s not really anything to say to that – nothing that comes to mind – and after getting worked up, Delaney’s suddenly gone quiet.
Without saying much more, we pack away the remnants of dinner and I rebuild the pillow fort while she’s in the bathroom getting ready for bed. She comes out wearing airline-branded pyjamas that swim on her.
‘These okay?’ she asks, restoring some of the good humour from earlier.
‘Perfect fit.’
She smiles and I take my turn in the bathroom, changing into a T-shirt and joggers. When I open the door, she’s in bed, lying on her side, her breathing steady. I go around to my side of the bed and slip under the duvet as quietly as I can.
‘Goodnight, Nick,’ she says softly.
‘Goodnight, Delaney,’ I reply, and then I stare into the darkness for more than an hour.
What am I even doing? she said.
Same, Delaney, same.