Chapter Ten #3
‘Ah. You’re talking about the fact that I never got in touch, right?’
I nod, too overwhelmed to use actual words.
I feel like we’re on the cusp of something big here.
This whole flight has been leading up to this moment.
I have no clue what he’s going to say, or whether it’s going to open up the opportunity to discuss us, properly.
I’m on an emotional precipice, about to free-dive.
‘Mate,’ he exhales, and honestly I am starting to wonder how I managed to forget all about it the first time around. It’s so annoying!
Hamish then proceeds to take a painful amount of time to say anything else.
He polishes off his tray of unidentified vegetable noodles, he munches his way through his bread and butter.
He demolishes the Tim Tam and sips his way through a plastic cup filled with red wine.
By the time he’s finished eating, I’m quietly wondering if he’s totally forgotten about what we’d been talking about.
Maybe now is the time for a caffeine tablet, after all?
‘Nee,’ he finally says, briefly squeezing my hand. ‘I am sorry about that.’
I still can’t speak and there’s a very pregnant pause while I wait for him to elaborate.
I wait some more.
Nothing. He offers up nothing. What do I do?
Pretend to be easy-breezy and not at all bothered about the fact that he ghosted me all those years ago?
And that, a decade on, he has offered up one solitary apology with no explanation?
Because I am not easy-breezy about it. That period in time still stings, and it’s had ripple effects on the way I’ve led my life ever since.
Or do I probe him further? The Nina who wasn’t stuck in a time loop and facing an eternal Monday would probably have brushed this under the carpet but I realize now that I can’t do that.
I feel like I’ve come so far to get to this point, and if I don’t seize my chance to get some answers then I’ll be doing my future self a huge disservice.
Plus I’ll be really cross with myself, and I do not need to add self-loathing to what is already quite a long list of troubles.
‘Why didn’t you get in touch?’ I ask in a small voice. ‘We’d agreed that you’d let me know how it all went, hadn’t we? And I thought you were coming back.’
A year. That was all it was meant to be. We’d broken up so Hamish could go do his thing in Australia but I felt pretty sure that we’d get back together when he came home.
No, more than that. We’d actually said it would happen. We’d had an entire conversation about it at Heathrow Terminal Two on the day he left.
Hamish’s brow furrows and he looks genuinely sorry.
‘I was coming back, that was always the plan. But the minute I landed, I felt like I’d been gifted a fresh start at life. And I just love shiny new things.’
I frown at this. ‘Did you meet someone else?’
‘Oh no, not straight away anyway. I was single for a good few weeks after I landed.’
A good few weeks? Excuse me, please? I was pining away for him for months after he left. Months! Years, maybe? I was left spiralling, questioning so much about myself. What had happened, how did it all go so wrong? What did I do wrong?
Hamish gives my hand another squeeze.
‘Don’t blame yourself, Nee.’
‘What?!’ I blurt.
‘At the end of the day I just decided to focus my energies on me. I was my priority back then. We can spend so long worrying about others when really, the most important relationship we need to nurture in this life is the one with ourselves.’
Hamish presses his hands together and I fight the temptation to slap them apart.
‘Well … I do agree that it’s important to look after yourself,’ I splutter.
‘But not at the detriment of others, right? You could have got in touch, just to tell me where you were at. Even just as a courtesy, Hamish. I know it would have been a difficult conversation but I needed that. You said you’d be in touch and you weren’t and that was super damaging to me. ’
Argh, we’re steering way off course here. How am I going to pull this back? How do I get us back to the beautiful bit where we were connecting again? When all I really want to do is give him a major dressing-down for being such a selfish prick.
Should I even be trying to get back on track?
I dismiss that unhelpful thought immediately. I wasted a whole day flying business yesterday and got not one inch closer to escaping this loop. Hamish has been sent here for a reason, I know it. I’ve just got to unlock our past glory days.
‘I am truly sorry for that,’ Hamish is saying. ‘I did love you, you know that, right?’
‘Did you?’ I blurt out the question as the unwelcome truth hits me square in the face. ‘I don’t think you’d have treated me like that in the first place if you loved me.’
‘That’s not true. I think I’ve always loved you, actually. No one has compared to you. But in that moment, when I stepped off the plane with nothing but my hopes and dreams in my back pocket, I chose to love myself more.’
In spite of everything, I just can’t help myself from calling out: ‘Urgh! You’re so annoying!
You chose to love yourself more? Can you hear how selfish that sounds, Hamish?
I was devastated! And all this time I’ve been torturing myself over what happened.
Why you did what you did. And it turns out there’s no good reason! I’m so cross.’
‘Would you like one of my natural calming gummies?’ The deodorant-averse man next to me has clearly been listening in. He leans forward with some sludge-brown, sticky-looking sweets in his hand. ‘I made them myself.’
‘Thanks, man! That’s a great idea for you, Nee,’ Hamish says cheerfully.
I turn my face of thunder back to Hamish.
‘Thank you, but I’m good,’ I say to the man I doused in deodorant. ‘I don’t need to calm down.’
‘You sort of do, bro. Your cheeks have gone red and you’re almost shouting.
Oh my God that’s it.’ Hamish clicks his fingers like he’s been struck by a great idea.
‘I’ve been trying to put my finger on what’s different about you.
It’s your hair, you never used to wear it down.
It’s gone all puffy now that you’re cross. ’
‘Will you stop calling me bro?’ I’m spiralling. ‘I’m not your bro, your mate or your dude. I am your ex-girlfriend and it’s completely acceptable for my hair to go “puffy” considering I’ve just found out that the reason you ghosted me is simply that you were being selfish.’
Hamish holds his hands up in surrender.
I try to breathe, which isn’t easy when you feel like screaming. My jaw is clenched so tight my teeth ache.
‘Everything okay, Moss?’
I look up to find Callum walking down the aisle towards us. He is scanning me, concern etched across his face. My cheeks burn in frustration and I let out an exasperated huff in lieu of a reply.
‘Can I help?’ Hamish looks Callum up and down.
‘I wasn’t talking to you,’ Callum says, gaze flicking briefly to Hamish before returning to me.
‘Do you know this dude?’ Hamish asks me.
Callum turns his attention back to Hamish, and I watch as that charming smile returns. Notice that it does not reach his eyes.
‘I’m Cal, a friend of Nina’s.’
The word friend snags on my befuddled thoughts.
‘Right,’ says Hamish warily. ‘Nina and I go way back. Hamish McKellan.’
‘Good to meet you, Hellish,’ replies Callum. At least, it sounds a lot like he says Hellish but he does it so quickly it’s almost impossible to tell. ‘I’m afraid I’m here to steal Nina away from you.’
‘We’re kind of in the middle of something,’ Hamish retorts, crossing his legs.
‘I noticed,’ Callum says pointedly.
I, apparently, have lost the ability to speak.
Watching Callum standing there in all his hot-model-goes-travelling glory is doing so many things to my insides.
He rolls his broad shoulders back as he continues to eyeball me.
He knows I’m upset. He can tell. Meanwhile Hamish is watching me too and I get the unsettling impression that worlds are colliding and the only possible outcome is extinction.
‘As you can see, Nee is fine,’ Hamish says eventually, and I realize I still haven’t replied to Callum’s question.
He stands there immovable, frowning.
‘You sure about that?’
‘It’s the puffy hair, isn’t it? She usually wears it back,’ Hamish offers.
Callum looks immediately like he wants to punch Hamish in the face.
‘Nina,’ he says. ‘There’s a spare seat next to mine.’
He’s offering an escape route and lord knows I want to take it. Hamish has disappointed me yet again.
‘Sorry, what are you doing here?’ Hamish rounds on Callum.
‘Nina and I are colleagues. There’s work to be done,’ Callum practically growls at him.
‘No doubt you can do it when you land. We’re kind of in the middle of something,’ Hamish retorts. Then he turns to me and says: ‘Who is this dude, anyway?’
‘He already told you. Colleague,’ I manage, Callum’s gaze skewering me to the spot.
‘And mentor,’ Callum adds with an almost imperceptible grin.
I can’t help it, I huff out a laugh.
‘You wish.’
‘Still so much to learn,’ he teases.
‘It’s very much the other way around,’ I shoot back.
‘In that case, shall we get started?’
‘I’m confused. Is one of you a teacher?’ asks Hamish.
For the briefest moment, I’d forgotten he was there.
Callum ignores him.
‘Shall we?’ He steps back, motioning for me to follow him.
And for the life of me I can’t think of one single reason to stay.
Hamish has been a lot. I’m so angry with him.
And I don’t want to listen to his stupid selfish excuses for a moment longer.
In contrast, I find myself yearning to be back in Callum’s company, telling him exactly why he’s very annoying.
He’s open, and honest, the polar opposite of Hamish.
Callum Bang might be my arch nemesis, but right now he’s also the only person I want to turn to.
I don’t dwell on this disquieting thought for long.
Instead, I grab my bag and ask Passenger Stink to move so I can get out.
‘Wait, you’re leaving?’ Hamish jumps up too, joining us in the aisle. ‘Seriously? Nee, I hate to say this but you’ve become super selfish over the years. You’ve hardly asked me any questions about myself. Not cool, dude.’
I am seething and it turns out I’m not the only one.
Callum wraps an arm around my waist and gently guides me back, creating distance between Hamish and me.
My side is still singing from his touch even after he moves his hand away.
Then Callum steps into the space he’s just created.
His hands are balled into fists and the muscles in his jaw flex.
An almost imperceptible growl comes from deep inside his chest.
‘It’s not nice to be impolite, Humphrey,’ he says.
‘It’s Hamish,’ my ex-boyfriend insists as Callum turns back to me.
‘Let’s go,’ Callum says, the dark cloud lifting as he looks into my eyes.
I feel so much lighter, like a bubble rising to the surface, which may explain why I reach out my hand.
Callum looks down, a flash of something crossing his face as he takes my hand in his.
A ripple of laughter threatens to spill out as Callum leads me off in the direction of premium economy, Hamish still chuntering about being called Humphrey in the distance.
But as we move, the giddiness subsides and every single faculty I possess zones in on the fact that my hand and Callum’s are joined, and it feels good.
Like, really good.