She started to cry again. I just wanted to take her in my arms and make everything better. I moved toward her and she pulled farther away.
“I’m sorry,” I said, again. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No, I’ll call Kelly. You should go now. I really loved you, Luke.”
I closed my eyes. “I know and I love you. I really want you to be happy.”
I stood, headed to the guest bedroom and collected my case.
Thank God the following day was Friday. My brain was close to a meltdown with all the adjustments and contemplations it had been doing recently. I didn’t often go drinking with colleagues, but tonight was an exception. I needed to block things out. Alcohol was the perfect treatment. I could dive into those relaxed soporific sensations and let myself drown for a bit. I could use it to block out the guilt and unease, the anxiety over what was next.
Emma’s reaction to our breakup had been heartbreaking. Somehow I felt guilty that she wasn’t angrier with me. She had every reason to be. Unwittingly, I’d led her to believe that we could be something more. I should have been more sensitive to her.
“Shots!” Mark, one of the other lawyers, shouted as he placed a tray of vodka in front of the group of us gathered in Chancery Bar. I couldn’t remember if this would be my fourth or fifth shot, but things were becoming pleasantly hazy.
“Oh, just to warn you, Wendy found out you’re single,” Mark whispered.
I shuddered. Wendy, our office manager, flirted with most of the lawyers who were single and a number of them had “experienced” her. I wasn’t about to be another one of those guys. She wasn’t my type.
“You not interested?” Mark asked. “She’s sexy.”
I shook my head. “Never a good idea to shit on your own doorstep.”
That seemed to make sense to Mark, and he didn’t push it. I scanned the faces in the bar. What was my type? Emma and I had been introduced to each other at a party. She was pretty and funny and smart. I wasn’t sure I had a physical type.
We’d been drinking for hours when our group started to thin out. I checked my watch. It wasn’t even nine. Jesus, it felt like two in the morning. I didn’t often drink shots on an empty stomach. Perhaps it was time for me to go. But the only thing waiting for me at home was a couple that made me want to vomit, they were so in love. I pulled out my phone. What was Ashleigh doing? I could go round. We could talk. I hadn’t told her I was ending things with Emma. What would she think? I wanted to know more about how she was feeling about Richard. I wanted to know more about him, whether or not he was good enough for her. More than that, I wanted to understand why thinking about them together made me jealous.
Seeing her suddenly became urgent.
Ashleigh
“The building better be on fire,” I shouted in response to the banging on my front door. Who the hell was making such noise at this time of night? It was just gone nine and I was in my PJ’s, my makeup off, watching television. It had been a perfect evening of doing nothing, and now someone was spoiling it.
I checked the peephole and flung the door open. “What are you doing here?” I asked Luke. “Are you drunk?” He squinted as if he was finding it difficult to focus.
“Yup. I really need some water.”
I rolled my eyes and stomped off to the kitchen. The door closed behind him as he trailed after me. “It’s late, Luke. Why are you here?”
“Shit.” He stood up really straight. “Sorry. Is Richard here?”
I ran the cold tap and filled a glass full of water. Haven obviously hadn’t told him about our breakup. I shook my head. He smiled and headed over to my sofa where he collapsed. “Do you have snacks?” he asked. “Maybe something with cheese?”
“You realize there are plenty of fast food restaurants that you can go to when you’re drunk that will feed you carbs and water. There’s no need for you to come to me.” How was I going to keep my distance from him if he kept following me?
Luke groaned. “Stop complaining, Ash. You love looking after people. That’s why you do what you do.”
“You should go home,” I said. “Shall I call you a cab?”
“Urgh, no. I can’t face listening to my sister have sex. Let me stay a bit longer. Hopefully they’ll wear themselves out and then I can go home.”
He wasn’t making sense. “Why are you going to listen to Haven having sex at your house?”
“Could I stay with you?” he asked, and his face lit up and then fell. “No. I don’t want to listen to you and Richard going at it either. Maybe I can move in with Kate Upton. I wouldn’t mind listening to her having sex.”
He was equal parts amusing and annoying when he drank like this. I threw a cushion at him. “You’re hammered. Just go back to your place and you can have sex with your own girlfriend.”
“I need to find my own place. Will you come flat hunting with me?”
I didn’t even pretend to know what he was talking about. “I’ll make you a sandwich, and then you’re leaving.”
I set about making him a cheese sandwich, which I knew was his favorite. I didn’t often see Luke drunk since he’d left college. It wasn’t like him. And why was he going on about Haven and Jake? He seemed really out of it.
“If you feel like you’re going to throw up, then make sure you hit the bathroom,” I called into the living room.
He appeared at the door to the kitchen. “That water was good.” He refilled his glass. “You’re making me a sandwich?” He sounded a little more normal.
“Apparently I’m a sucker,” I said as I cut the bread in half, put it on a plate and handed it to him.
“I shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach.”
“You think?” I chuckled at him.
“Did I interrupt your evening?”
“Yes.” But as ever, I was delighted to see him.
“Was it a popcorn and pajamas evening?” he asked, grinning at me in a way that felt more flirtatious than he meant it to. It was just tortuous.
I laughed. “It doesn’t mean that you didn’t disrupt things.”
“I’m sorry. I just went for a few beers after work and . . . I’m trying to distract myself.” He scrubbed his face with his hands.
“Are you okay? You and Emma?”
“Yeah and you know, I know it’s the right thing, but breaking up is always difficult. We were together a long time.”
My stomach flipped over. Breaking up? I didn’t respond.
“Haven told you, right?”
“Told me what? I’ve not spoken to her for a few days.”
“Emma and I split last night. I moved out. I’m staying with Haven and Jake.” He took a bite of his sandwich while my stomach took a dive and my head started to spin. “This is really good,” he said, pointing to his snack. “You are Ashleigh Franklin? I’m in the right house?”
I tried to act normally. I pushed his shoulder and headed back to the living room. “Don’t act so surprised. I can make a sandwich. Tell me about Emma.”
“Call me thoughtless and naïve, but I’d never realized that she wanted a husband and kids.”
“You’re thoughtless and naïve.”
He grimaced.
“You told me to call you that,” I said.
“I know.” He sighed. “Do you believe it? I mean, I feel horrible.”
“I think when one person feels more than another in a relationship it’s hard to get it right on either side. It’s like you’re are using the same map to get to different places. If she was honest with herself, Emma probably knew that you didn’t want the same things she did, and that she should have walked away sooner. But you could have been more sensitive too.” It was easy to empathize with Emma. We both had a level of feelings for Luke that weren’t reciprocated.
“I feel horrible.”
I felt happy, and maybe a little hopeful, which I knew was wrong. Luke and I weren’t together because he didn’t feel that way about me—it had nothing to do with Emma.