Chapter 19 Rose
Rose
Ididn’t ghost him. I sent him a message as soon as I got on the tube and had internet, explaining I had an early appointment at work, which meant getting home, showered and changed, and smelling like something else than Carter’s aftershave and sex.
I didn’t regret it. It was exactly as I’d hoped it would be, fantasised about, always considering what it would’ve been like for Carter to have been my first or even my second, and thinking that it was projection because he was safe.
Carter would never do anything to hurt me; if we’d ever gotten into a relationship when we were younger I was pretty certain he would never have ended it, even if he’d wanted to.
Would he now? What if he wasn’t feeling the same way I was?
It was something that stuck with me over the next couple of weeks, although I didn’t mention it to him.
Instead I brewed on it, which was exactly what I would’ve advised my patients against doing.
We met for coffee and a meal, and he spent the night at my flat when Harriet was on an overnight in Stratford, getting a few things settled before she officially moved there.
I loved being with him, loved hearing him laugh, how he made me feel, how he could make me feel in bed, because the first time definitely wasn’t a fluke.
I mentioned it to Fallon because Harriet was engrossed in moving and Erin was away covering a news story in Paris, and discussing my newly resurrected sex life over Teams didn’t seem appealing.
“Why would you think you weren’t compatible in bed?” Fallon lay on the sofa, feeding herself grapes and probably imagining some muscular man-guard doing it for you.
“Because we’d been friends for so long. I thought it might be weird.”
“But it wasn’t. I always thought Carter would be good in bed. If you weren’t so obviously in love with him, I’d have tried him out for size and I imagine he would not have disappointed.”
“It’s good to know you’ve fantasized about my, erm, Carter.” I wondered what the proper descriptive term was.
“Boyfriend. He’s your boyfriend.”
“He’s marrying someone else on Thursday.”
“He’ll be married for about twenty-four hours before it’s annulled and he won’t be consummating it, so I wouldn’t even bat an eyelid about it.” She ate another grape. “I have a second date on Thursday.”
“Are you taking him to the wedding as your plus one?”
“I hadn’t considered that, so no. It’s a thought.” She turned over and looked at me, knocking the grapes off the sofa onto the floor. “I won’t do that, don’t worry.”
“Who’s the date with? Did you say it was a second date?” I had rarely known Fallon to have a second date. In fact, I couldn’t remember that ever happening, she’d usually eaten them and spat them out before they could get to a second date.
“My cardiologist.”
I was fully cognizant now. “Your cardiologist? Wasn’t that Mr Becker?”
“Used to be. I’d missed a load of appointments, so I was reallocated to the new one, Doctor James.”
I frowned. “The dark haired one who looks like a young George Clooney?”
“That’s the one. Second date time.”
“Have you slept with him yet?”
“Surprisingly no. Medical ethics.”
“That’s okay then. I was about to pass out with shock. I thought you were looking better.” She’d had more energy recently.
“I need another operation,” she said quietly. “But he’s changed my meds and it’s helped.”
I frowned. “I’m impressed with your restraint. But I’m glad about your meds.”
“Thanks on both counts. I actually quite like him.” She sounded surprised. “He’s got more than two braincells.”
“Always helpful for a cardiologist. Where are you going on Thursday?”
“A restaurant on the Southbank. It’s classy so I’ll need to wear something scandalous. I might wear it for the wedding too. Are you okay about it? The wedding, not my date.”
“I’m trying to pretend it isn’t happening but you keep reminding me.” It was the truth. I needed this week to be over, everything to have happened, gone smoothly and then slip into the distant past.
“I don’t think burying your head in the sand is healthy.”
“Well, it’s what you’ve done with not going to your cardiology appointments.” I wondered if I was going to regret saying that.
“Fair enough. Carter wouldn’t shut up about you when we were on a break together yesterday. It was actually annoying.”
“What was he saying?” I was fifteen again.
“I’m not telling you but it was all good. He’s smitten.” She picked the grapes up off the floor. “I’ll phone you on Thursday between the wedding and my date. If I think anything’s a bit suss I’ll tell you.”
“I feel like the other woman.”
“Except the woman your Carter’s marrying knows about you, is really cool, and is over the moon that you and Carter have finally seen sense and bumped uglies. Do you want these grapes? The floor was clean.”
“Put them back in the box and Harriet will probably eat them, or me, if I forget where they’ve been.” I forced myself up out of the chair. “I’m glad you’ll be there at the wedding.”
“I can always stand up and say they shouldn’t be married, if you like. It’s not like I haven’t done that before.”
“Twice.”
“Three times a charm. Just say the word.” She picked up her black leather jacket off the back of a kitchen chair.
“No, I just want to get it out of the way.”
“Carter does as well. He regrets suggesting it to Laurie. I’ll tell you that much.”
I shrugged. “Things are too far along now to back out, and I’d feel too bad for her.” I’d had a meal with Laurie and Fallon two days ago, and it’d been fun, and she hadn’t let it be awkward.
Fallon nodded. “Let me know if you change your mind.” She gave me a hug. “Chin up, buttercup. He’ll soon be fully yours.”
I was in work while Carter was getting married, assessing a young girl who’d been brought in following an attempted overdose.
She was fifteen, confused and sad, and it was my job to start the formulation to see how we were going to support her.
For the next two hours, I forgot about what was going on elsewhere, doing the job I loved, the job I’d trained to do because I wanted to help people make sense of the world.
When I realised what time it was, Carter was a married man, and while I knew it was temporary, I still went home and sobbed into my pillow.