Chapter 19
I left Ethan’s early on Monday morning, telling him I had an outfit to collect from Fifth Avenue. Which was true, of course. But also true was the fact that I had a potential showdown with my ex to mentally prepare myself for, since I’d ended up sending Will a DM just before going to sleep:
Flora:
Please come alone.
Will had replied almost immediately.
Will:
ok
Ethan had a busy Monday planned, too; he was working from home, but also had to arrange same-day printing for his wedding gift, sort the speech projection logistics with the venue, and go to the rehearsal dinner tonight.
So, on every front, it made sense for me to get going.
We’d arranged when and where to meet for the early-evening ceremony tomorrow, Ethan full of reassurances that I’d get on with everyone and that it would be ‘super-chilled’.
‘A nice way to end our time together, I guess?’ I’d said, as I’d pulled on my shoes – dry once more thanks to the efficiency of Ethan’s heater. Ethan had swallowed before replying.
‘Yeah, I guess. I mean, you’ll get to see the final speech.’
‘A full circle moment.’
‘Exactly.’
We’d hugged tenderly and silently on his stoop before I’d headed off, my head down against the bitter wind – no more rain, sleet or snow for the time being. I repeated my schedule over and over in my head as I made my way towards the subway, which had now re-opened:
9:30: collect jumpsuit.
10:00: manicure.
12:00: head to Empire State Building. Grab lunch and wait for Will in coffee shop.
13:00: meet Will.
14:00: meet Mum and Anneka.
For the first time since mine and Ethan’s universes had overlapped, I wished that the day’s schedule looked more like this:
All day: lie on sofa with an orange cat and take occasional breaks for food and toileting.
I only had three more days to get through before that fantasy would become my reality.
You can make it through three days, Flora. Then you can crash.
I descended the subway steps for the journey back into the heart of one of the busiest places on Earth, still without the security blanket of my noise-cancelling headphones. I knew that, when I emerged, I’d have to face one of the hardest conversations of my life.
Three hours later, my altered outfit was collected, and my nails were freshly filed and painted bright pink to match the lining of the jumpsuit – a bold departure from my usual inky black.
Thankfully, not a single member of staff had asked me about my ‘wedding’, and I’d even accepted the aesthetician’s offer of a free trial of make-up products while my nails dried so I’d look less like a see-through ghoul when I met Will at the base of the Empire State Building.
I’d bought a tube of rose-pink cream blush as a gesture of thanks for the free face of make-up, which also doubled up as eyeshadow, figuring I could raid Mum and/or Anneka’s make-up bags for any other products for the wedding tomorrow.
That’s if they were talking to me by then.
I’d been trying to ignore the knot that had tied itself tightly in my tummy ever since Anneka and I had argued yesterday.
Last night’s call from Laurie had taken my mind off it for a while, but that was like saying a third-degree burn had taken my mind off a punctured lung.
I thought New York had been repairing me, but everything felt more broken than ever.
By the time I arrived at the coffee shop, I was trembling with anxiety and struggling to hold myself together.
I ordered a hot chocolate and a giant oatmeal cookie, not able to face an actual meal, and waited for a table to become free as close to the specified what3words location as possible. Once I sat down, I checked the time.
12:17 p.m.
Will would be here in less than forty-five minutes. But, knowing him, he’d be early – no doubt so he could get this ordeal over with as quickly as possible.
I thought back to the last time I’d seen him, that awful Thursday in mid-June.
It’d been a busy but pleasant enough morning; we’d both finished work the day before, ready for a week and a half off for the wedding and a mini-moon to the Cotswolds for a discounted midweek break.
Will had gone to the barber’s to get his hair cut, promising to bring back some sausage butties from the local greasy spoon for lunch.
While he was out, I’d sent a few emails to confirm things with the venue and the florist’s (and the caterer’s and the entertainment and the photographer and basically every other supplier I’d been in touch with on a weekly basis since the start of the year), and I was getting the spare room ready for Laurie and Ben when Will burst into the room clutching my laptop.
I’d never seen his face that colour before – somehow both pale and red in marble-like blotches.
Writing that speech had been such a massive mistake on my part.
It had been written for my benefit, not his.
But I’d left the file open, so when he opened the laptop to check a few things on my wedding spreadsheet, it was right there.
And then everything had gone to shit. After he’d spilled his annihilating truths, I disappeared inside myself, unable to even look at him, let alone have anything resembling a mature conversation.
Eventually, he’d taken his pre-packed mini-moon suitcase and headed off to his sister’s.
After that, everything logistical had been handled by her and Laurie while I’d done nothing but lie in bed, my wedding dress watching over me from its hanging position on the curtain rail. I’d since re-sold it on Vinted.
‘Flora.’
My head snapped up, and there he was – a full twenty minutes early. He looked good – a little plumper than when I’d last seen him, but the softness suited his gentle yet solid personality.
‘Hey,’ I replied neutrally.
He took a seat opposite, and suddenly the whole scene felt like he was visiting me in prison.
‘You look great, Flora – seriously.’
I’ve been working out in the prison gym.
‘Thanks.’
‘I can’t believe you’re in New York.’
‘I can’t believe you’re in New York,’ I repeated.
‘Yeah, this is super weird and awkward.’
‘To say the least.’
‘I’m… sorry you had to find out like this.’
‘It wasn’t ideal, no.’
‘So… you wanted to meet?’
Shit. Why had I felt so compelled to talk to Will today?
What was I hoping to achieve? Some kind of closure?
If so, why did it feel like a sinkhole was opening up in the middle of this coffee shop and was on the verge of engulfing me?
Will obviously didn’t want to be here – he hadn’t even taken his coat off.
I shrugged. ‘I figured it’d be even weirder if we bumped into each other on the street. Best to… clear the air.’
‘I mean, New York’s pretty big; we probably wouldn’t have bumped into each other, Flora.’
I stared at him and raised my eyebrows. ‘Let me guess, you’re staying in that hotel we picked on the Lower East Side?’
He didn’t reply, which was the only confirmation I needed.
‘See?’
He knew me well enough to understand that morbid curiosity would have got the better of me eventually, and us seeing each other would have been inevitable. It was for everyone’s benefit that we had this conversation on neutral ground – and without the presence of his new girlfriend.
Will blew the air from his cheeks and rubbed the top of his head with his hand. I noted he was wearing a new watch. A gift from Briony, no doubt.
‘I booked this trip at the start of this year. It was… meant to be a surprise for you. It was non-refundable. It would have been—’
‘A shame to waste it. Yeah, I know, I know. Laurie said. But c’mon, Will!
You didn’t think it might be worth telling your ex-fiancée that you had a new girlfriend and that you were already living together?
And that you were taking her on our honeymoon to New York?
I was always going to find out one way or another!
You’ve put Laurie in such a shit position.
She feels awful for not telling me sooner. ’
‘You don’t think I’ve been feeling awful all these months?
!’ The volume of Will’s voice rose to something approaching a shout, causing people at nearby tables to glance at us.
He inhaled slowly, then continued in a quieter voice.
‘I had no way of contacting you, did I? And anyway, I didn’t want to upset you any more than I already had.
I want you to be happy. I want us both to be happy. ’
‘But we were happy!’
Will ran his fingers down the sides of his face. When he replied, I noticed for the first time that his eyes were bloodshot, as if he’d had a sleepless night. ‘To begin with, sure. And when the four of us moved to London, it was great. But over the years we grew apart.’
‘It didn’t feel that way to me.’
‘It did to me. I’m sorry. I’ve thought about it a lot – like, so much – and I think our interests started diverging pretty soon after Laurie and Ben moved out, don’t you think?’
I forced myself to remember the final few years of our twelve-year relationship.
Will had gradually lost interest in going to gigs after work and quirky art exhibitions at weekends, which eventually meant I’d stopped doing those things, too.
His ideal way to pass time was playing super-complicated board games at the kitchen table with the Big Light on with some guys he’d met on Discord, which I’d kept as far away from as possible.
But having different hobbies and preferences was normal, surely?
I shrugged the memories away. ‘It felt like a regular, functioning relationship to me.’
‘For a couple who’d been married for decades, maybe. But we were barely out of our twenties! Didn’t you ever wonder… “what if”, Flor?’
‘Don’t call me “Flor”. And, no, I didn’t wonder. You were my person.’