Chapter 27 #3
“Yes, yes, I appreciate that,” she says. “Yes, okay. No problem.” She’s quiet for a bit as she nods.
The coffee is silent now, like it’s finished percolating, so I shift away from Jane and head into the kitchen. As I’m pouring out two coffees, I pull out my phone. No messages. I should text Sadie, though I have no idea when I’ll make it back to the apartment.
Jane’s broken her arm and her collarbone. Just getting her settled. Not sure what time I’ll be back.
Oh God, that doesn’t sound good. And no worries, just message me when you leave. I can make some dinner later.
Her text is followed by a laughing emoji, no doubt a reference to her cooking, which is actually improving in leaps and bounds. She’s a quick learner. A smile curls over my face. I step over to the fridge and grab the milk, adding a splash to both cups.
When I head back into the living room, Jane’s off the phone, her face pale. “You’re going to have to move back in, James,” she says.
“What?”
She sweeps out a hand. “How am I going to cook or wash myself? I can’t manage here on my own.” Her lips curl up. “It would be like old times. You have no idea how much I’ve missed …”
A wave of sickness rolls through my stomach. “I’m not moving back in here again.”
Her mouth drops open. “What? It’d only be for a few weeks. Or at least until this cast and sling come off and I’m not in loads of pain.”
I hand her her coffee. There’s a sharp frown on her face; hazel eyes fixed on mine.
“That’s impossible, Jane. They said the cast would be on for four to eight weeks, and I have a business to run and Des’s apartment to take care of.”
How convenient has that promise to Des been?
Plus, I’m not going to live with a nutcase, I don’t add.
I’ve got Mr. Karen and an almost girlfriend …
I blink at Jane as something heavy shifts in my chest. The pang that runs through me at the idea of Sadie as my girlfriend is sharp and fierce.
We’re so new, but … would she want that?
And I feel nothing about this conversation with Jane except a building sense of dread and an overwhelming desire to bolt out the door.
“I’m sure Des would understand! Sadie can take care of the cat and Des’s apartment.” She frowns. “Well … unless … the other alternative is that I come and live with you.” Her face clears and she beams. “That would fix this whole problem!”
Over my dead body.
“There’s no room.”
“What do you mean there’s no room? I could share with you.”
I sit down again, but this time I take the chair perpendicular to where she’s now stretched out on the couch. I take a sip of my coffee. Why is she making all these crazy suggestions?
“Share my bedroom? I’m sure Kevin would be delighted with that,” I mutter.
“Oh, he wouldn’t mind, not if you were helping me with this,” she says, nodding down at her chest and arm. “Or you could sleep in the living room for a few weeks.”
Not for the first time, it occurs to me that her view on all this is very odd. If I was Kevin, no way would I be okay with this.
She grins. “We could sit and enjoy old movies like we used to.”
Yes, except I don’t do that anymore. I watch Mr. Karen burn his tail and get so sucked into discussions with Sadie about Brandon Sanderson books that I’ve had to start reading them myself.
“Jane. I am not sleeping on the couch. We could not share my room. We had a romantic relationship, and now we don’t. I was devastated when we split.” And how glad I am that I can admit it openly now, even to her.
She wrinkles her nose. “Were you, though?” I open my mouth, then close it again as she barrels on. “We didn’t have much of a romance, did we? Our relationship wasn’t romantic. You moved out so quickly—like you were happy to be done with it.”
How convenient. She just twists what’s happened to suit herself and her narrative, doesn’t she? I want to laugh. I left because she brought her new boyfriend to stay. He slept in our bed … with her. Still, maybe she’s right about one thing: I was never exactly good at romantic gestures.
She purses her lips. “In the end, I just don’t think you’re a romantic person. You’re too practical.”
That’s ridiculous, but … whatever. I don’t really care how she sees me. I can think about my shortcomings later. I want to push through this conversation and get out of here. We need to move on from all this.
“I moved out because you were very clear with me that you didn’t want a relationship with me and you’d moved on with Kevin.”
“Well, I don’t know whether my relationship with Kevin will last, but I’d still like you and me to be friends. It’d be sad, after all this time, if we couldn’t do that.”
This is probably the most sensible thing she’s said in a long time.
And Christ, poor Kevin. Though he’s not deserving of my sympathy after sending all that stuff to her for years.
He knew what he was doing, and so did Jane.
He’s under the impression that they’ve got all these plans together …
that she’s going back to Philly and setting up house with him, and she’s sitting here talking about whether they’re going to last.
But hang on, James, didn’t she do exactly the same thing with you?
You thought you had all these plans with her, too, when, in reality, she thought you were like her brother.
I was the poor sap last time. I think it’s pretty clear she cheated on me with Kevin, either emotionally or sexually, though I’m not sure I’ll ever get a straight answer out of her about it.
“I’m happy to be friends, Jane, and I don’t mind helping you out now and again.” I wave my hand over where her arm is in a sling. “We can meet for coffees and catch up, but I’m no longer your ride or die. That’s Kevin’s job.”
Her lips form into a soft pout as she glances away. “We can’t still be best friends?”
I shake my head. “Jane, Kevin’s your guy now, and I’m not sure I trust you in the way I once did.” And that’s probably about as honest as I can be without saying something I might regret.
“Who’s your ride or die now? Sadie?” Pink builds on her neck, and my stomach sinks. I thought I’d managed to dodge this conversation. What’s happening with Sadie is new and precious, and I don’t want to fumble it. I don’t want Jane raking over it, either.
“I have a lot of different friends at work. Des, and yes, Sadie, but …”
“You know she’s a liar, right?”
Something hot and sharp bubbles in my gut. “What do you mean?”
“She told me she went to school at CUNY, but it was very clear to me she was lying.”
A frown whips across my face. “What?”
“You remember when we used to sleep on my friend Belinda’s floor at CUNY when we visited? I talked to Sadie about CUNY, and she was so shifty and embarrassed. She didn’t know anything about the place; she didn’t even know where the classes were held.”
I can imagine Sadie fumbling through a conversation with Jane; she’s often awkward talking to people she doesn’t know. Jane’s interpretation of it makes me want to laugh. “Okay.”
“Okay? Okay? Are you so besotted with any girl that crosses your path that that’s all you’ve got to say?”
Besotted with any girl … “Sadie’s uncomfortable speaking to anyone she doesn’t know, Jane. It doesn’t mean she’s a liar.”
“God, you never believed anything I told you unless I gave you black-and-white evidence! It infuriated me when we were together.” Her face is red now, splotches forming on her cheeks.
Something hot and sharp races through my chest, my pulse exploding.
“Oh, because it’s so tolerable bringing your new boyfriend into the bed your old one just left, while you toss him into the spare room like a toy you got tired of.
Then you expect him to congratulate you on how nice your new boyfriend is and say whether he’s a good replacement for you. That’s such a normal way to behave.”
Her mouth drops open as she stares at me.
“I might have been annoying but at least I wasn’t oblivious and mean,” I add.
She presses her hand to her face, and I stand up, hands clenched by my side.
“I’ve been trying to be polite and easy with you about this whole thing, Jane. But your behavior has been nothing short of appalling.” And I stomp out the door.