Chapter 10
I watch myself in the mirrored lift wall as I play through what I’m going to say to Andy for the millionth time. I have a few versions on the go, of how I’m going to have the conversation with him, and I can’t say I feel all that confident about any approach.
One idea I have is to be direct, to blurt it out the second Andy walks through the door, although the thought of doing that terrifies me, and it will probably freak him out too.
Idea two is to bang on all about my bad dates, then slowly weave into the conversation that he was right about what I wanted and, oh, I’m only just having this thought now, honestly, but isn’t he kind of describing himself? And then hope he comes to the realisation too and takes it from there.
Then there’s idea three, where I make him his favourite dinner – lasagne – and I open a bottle of wine, and I hope that by some miracle it all comes out naturally.
I suppose I’ve opted for idea three, given that I’ve bought all the ingredients to make the lasagne, so it’s ready for when he walks through the door later this evening.
But once the food is out, all bets are off. I’ve no idea what I’m going to do.
I adjust the bag of shopping that’s digging into my shoulder. There’s a lot riding on this lasagne.
I’ve gone full wife-material – at least I’ve tried to.
I’ve got fresh pasta sheets, the expensive mozzarella, the fancy tomatoes in jars that cost more than double what the ones in the tins cost. Cooking for him is safe territory.
I do it all the time, I know that he loves what I make, so it’s an easy way to butter him up.
Plus, eating will work as a prop, giving me a reason to keep my mouth shut when I don’t know what to say, or my hands busy when the urge to throw myself at him kicks in.
Yep, I’ve had a week or so to think it over, and my imagination has well and truly run away with me.
I’m officially fantasising about Andy, not only about the idea of a future together, but about him.
I’ve been looking at photos of the two of us on my phone, truly allowing myself to fancy him, to think about kissing him, about his hands on my body.
I’m down the rabbit hole now; there’s no turning back.
The lift dings and the doors open on to our floor. I step out into the familiar corridor, giving my shopping bag one last yank for the home stretch. The hard work hasn’t even started yet.
I walk through the door and drop my bag down. I’ll get the food on, tidy up and then change into something nice. Not so nice it raises suspicions, but the kind of effort he would be crazy to say no to. I’ve probably only got a couple of hours before he’s back, so I’d better get a wriggle on.
As I walk into the open-plan living space I’m stopped in my tracks, because there’s someone here. A woman.
Not like a delivery person waiting for a signature or a maintenance person finally here to fix the extractor fan in the bathroom. A woman-woman, sitting on the sofa, smiling.
She’s got a decorative cushion behind her back, her bare feet tucked under her, her phone in her hand like she’s in her own living room.
She’s tiny, in a delicate but adorable kind of way.
Honey-blonde hair so bouncy it practically gives me a twirl as she turns to look at me.
She’s wearing a soft peach dress that looks expensive in that ‘oh this old thing?’ way and a tiny gold necklace with a charm that looks – I think – like her zodiac sign, but I don’t know them well enough to tell you which.
She looks up as if she’s been waiting for me to get home, whereas she’s the last thing I expected to find here.
Her whole face lights up.
‘You must be Whitney!’ she says, like we’re old friends.
‘Hi,’ I manage to blurt, far more friendly than I would usually be with a perfect stranger, but here she is, in my home, seeming like she knows me, and I don’t know what else to do. ‘Hello. Yes. That’s… me. I’m Whitney.’
She laughs – presumably at my confused babbling.
‘You’re exactly as I imagined you,’ she tells me.
‘And you’re…’
‘Sorry, I should have introduced myself,’ she says, popping to her tiny little feet.
At five foot six I feel like a bit of a short-arse next to Andy who is six foot and JJ who is five foot nine, but the stranger must be five foot three tops.
‘I’m—’
‘Whit!’
Andy’s voice comes from his bedroom a second before he appears, barefoot, hair damp like he’s just showered, wearing joggers and one of his faded uni T-shirts.
The sight of him twists up my stomach. I hadn’t realised how much I missed him but now that he’s here in front of me I never want him to leave again.
‘You’re home early,’ he says, smiling as he comes to hug me.
‘You’re back early,’ I reply. ‘I thought you would be at least another couple of hours.’
He comes over, moving around the coffee table, giving the woman who is now back on the sofa a little conspiratorial smile as he passes her. My heart is truly in my arse right now.
‘We caught an earlier flight,’ he says. ‘They wanted a bunch of us back for an early meeting, but I didn’t need to be there, so here we are.’
Here we are indeed.
I’m still just inside the doorway, with no idea what to do.
‘Okay,’ is all I can say.
‘I was going to message you,’ he says quickly, ‘but my phone died and then I couldn’t find my charger and—’
He stops, takes a breath.
I look at him, then to the woman, then back at him.
‘Whit, this is Cordelia. From work,’ he explains.
Even her name is cute.
Cordelia gives me a genuinely warm smile.
‘Hi,’ she says again. ‘It’s so nice to finally meet you.’
She gets back up and walks towards us.
Up close, she’s even more beautiful. Clear skin. Big brown eyes. Not a hair out of place.
Meanwhile, I feel sweaty from carrying my bags, I’ve got biro on the back of my hand, and I’m pretty sure I could hear my hair frizzing in the lift.
At least I know who she is now. She’s Cordelia. She works with Andy. Although I’m still not sure what she’s doing here.
‘It’s, er… nice to meet you too,’ I reply. ‘Sorry, I just… wasn’t expecting… well, anyone at all to be here.’
‘Oh my God, do not apologise, I’ve invaded your space,’ Cordelia says, horrified. ‘I am so, so sorry. I did tell Buzz to warn you.’
‘Buzz?’ I repeat back to her, no idea what that means.
Andy scratches the back of his neck as he winces a little.
‘It’s a long story,’ he says.
‘Buzz is what I’ve been calling him, while we’ve been working away,’ Cordelia explains. ‘He sort of flew across the floor at the office one day.’
‘One evening,’ Andy corrects her. ‘We’d been out for work drinks. I’d had a few too many.’
‘Anyway, he fell, but in like such a stylish way – I guess you had to be there – but I called him Buzz, as in Buzz Lightyear, and it just stuck. It’s funny though, because he got me back by nicknaming me Tink, as in Tinkerbell.’
‘Because…?’
‘Because I’m super cute,’ she replies.
‘Here, let me take the shopping,’ Andy says, noticing the bag. ‘Anything nice?’
‘Just the stuff to make dinner,’ I reply. ‘So, you work with Andy here in London, or you’re from Sydney?’
I can’t help but change the subject back because, honestly, I don’t feel like I understand why she’s here, in our flat.
‘I started at the London office about a week before we jetted off to Sydney,’ Cordelia explains.
‘Tink is the new hire I think I told you about,’ Andy adds.
Oh my God, he really does call her Tink.
‘Well, look, we won’t keep you, if you’ve got dinner plans – we’ve got a reservation, so we’ll be out of your hair,’ Andy says. ‘But before we go, there’s something we need to tell you…’
I feel like I know exactly what he’s going to say, even before Cordelia snakes her arms around his body and hugs him proudly, like she’s holding up a trophy.
‘We’re engaged,’ she sings, beating him to what frankly feels like a punchline.
Okay, so I didn’t know exactly what he was going to say, I thought he was going to say they were dating, not that they were engaged. Jesus Christ.
Cordelia gazes up at Andy, her eyes practically sparkling. He looks back at her with this expression I’ve never seen on his face before. Soft. Smitten even.
The word hangs in the air like a firework that hasn’t decided whether to explode or not – ironic, because it feels like one has just gone off in my face. My ears are ringing, like I’m tuning out of the room.
‘Engaged,’ I repeat, faintly. ‘As in…’
I don’t know why the fuck I’m asking for a definition of the word engaged. I know what engaged means.
‘Yep, we’re getting married,’ Andy says. ‘It all happened so fast, while we were away, so no ring yet.’
‘Well, there’s no rush, is there?’ I say – why am I saying that? I mean, I know why I’m saying it, but it’s not a very normal response, is it?
‘I know, it’s mad,’ Andy continues.
Mad? It’s absolutely unhinged. He’s been away for six weeks. That’s not enough time to get engaged to someone, surely?
‘We wanted to tell you together,’ she says. ‘We’ve been so excited.’
‘It’s been so hard keeping it a secret from you,’ Andy tells me. ‘That’s one of the reasons I’ve been so quiet.’
Oh, the thought of him keeping secrets from me makes me feel like I’m going to throw up.
‘I just… sorry, I’m so happy for you, it’s a shock,’ I tell them, trying to find it in me to be normal. ‘It’s not something you expect to hear, after a matter of weeks.’
I can’t help myself with the little remarks but they’re both too happy to pick up on my sass.
‘From day one the trip was so intense,’ Andy explains. ‘Work not going well, everyone stressed. I got paired with Cordelia on most of the drafts and filings.’
‘So naturally,’ she cuts in, ‘we ended up working late together nearly every night.’
‘Then one evening we finished past midnight,’ Andy says. ‘We were the only ones left in the office, and the vending machine had run out of everything but these weird Aussie crisps—’
‘Some kind of seafood,’ Cordelia says, pulling a face.
‘Which were awful,’ Andy says gravely. ‘So we went on a mission to find somewhere still open. Ended up at a place that did fish and chips, which we agreed was more our kind of seafood.’
‘We stayed there for hours,’ she says. ‘Just talking.’
‘Which then kind of became our thing,’ he says, smiling at her. ‘Late nights turned into dinner. Dinner turned into drinks. Drinks turned into… actual dates. And it just… clicked.’
My heart implodes inside my chest.
‘And then we had a big breakthrough with work, we were celebrating and thinking about next steps and… I don’t know.’ Andy shrugs. ‘I couldn’t picture my life without her. So when we had the layover in Singapore on the way back, we went for dinner and I just… I knew I had to ask.’
‘It was raining,’ Cordelia says softly. ‘Like properly raining. We were soaked.’
‘And I thought: what am I waiting for?’ Andy adds. ‘It felt like the perfect moment with the perfect girl. So I asked. And she said yes.’
‘How would I not say yes?’ she replies, squeezing his hands as she stretches tall to kiss him on the lips.
I watch them, the two of them wrapped up in this little bubble of bliss, and I feel weirdly detached.
Like I’m watching this happen to someone else.
Like it’s a scene from a movie where some other sad cow has bought all the things to make a lasagne and confess her love to someone who has turned up with a fiancée.
Not me. That could never be me. Please, God, tell me this isn’t happening to me.
‘Oh, but we do have to rush, for the ring,’ Cordelia corrects me. ‘We’re getting married in a matter of weeks. Which reminds me, Andy… go on… ask…’
‘Right, yes, Whit, I was wondering, seeing as though you’re my best friend, would you be my best man? Best woman, I suppose.’
He’s not only engaged, but he’s actually getting married, ASAP? In a matter of weeks? Is he crazy?
‘I was speechless when he asked me too,’ Cordelia says with a laugh.
‘Will you, Whit?’ Andy prompts me. ‘I couldn’t do it without you.’
‘Then you’d better say yes,’ Cordelia tells me, brandishing a fist at me, presumably playfully.
‘Yes, of course I will, I’d love to,’ I lie.
I cannot believe this is happening right now.
‘I’m so glad you said yes,’ Cordelia says. ‘It wouldn’t feel right without you. You’re such a big part of his life. Andy spoke about you so much. I thought it was weird at first, until I realised you were just besties.’
Just besties…
They’re both smiling at me, neither of them a clue I’m unravelling internally.
Outside, I somehow manage to smile.
‘So, you’re happy to do it?’ Andy checks.
‘Oh my God,’ I say, mustering up a bigger smile. ‘Yes. Of course. Sorry, I… didn’t have “becoming your best man” on my bingo card for… well, ever.’
Andy lets out a breath, his shoulders dropping in relief.
‘Thank God. I was weirdly nervous. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d said no,’ he replies. ‘What with the wedding being next month.’
‘Next month,’ I can’t help but blurt back. I still can’t believe it.
‘Cordelia found this incredible place that had a last-minute cancellation,’ Andy explains. ‘A country estate with a big hall, beautiful gardens, the works. It’s perfect. Isn’t it, Tink?’
Tink. Ew, ew, ew.
‘It’s a dream,’ she sighs. ‘I’ve always wanted to get married somewhere like that. As soon as we saw it, I knew it was the one. Plus, we’re having an engagement party there, this weekend – we’re inviting everyone. I hope you don’t have plans?’
‘Erm, she’s the best man, if she has plans she’ll cancel them,’ Andy tells her. ‘Anyway, we’re going to get ready to head out for dinner, so we’ll leave you to your cooking. But thanks, Whit, I knew you’d be cool.’
They head into Andy’s room, leaving me alone. I sink into one of the armchairs.
I thought I had time. Time to figure out what I was feeling.
Time to stop being a coward and give in to the feelings I’ve been keeping under wraps.
Why, why, why did JJ have to force me to open the mental box that we do not open?
Because now I’ve faced up to my feelings for him and it’s too late.
It’s not going to be me he ends up with.
I’ll be writing a speech and organising a stag do and watching him go through with it.
Oh, God, and I suppose he’ll move out? Or kick me out?
Or will we all live here together? That sounds like actual hell.
How stupid of me to think I was going to get a happy ever after, just like that, because clearly this isn’t going to be the book where the best friends finally realise they’re perfect for each other.
This is going to be the kind of story where the main character has to stand there in a pretty dress and hold back the tears while she watches the person she loves marry someone else.
I’m not sure anyone could write me a way out of this one.