I take a deep breath. “It’s hard,” I murmur, but he tenses, so I know he can hear me. “Seeing you together...” I shrug, because what else is there to say?
“I know. I’m sorry.”
And the thing is. Iknowhe’s sorry. But that doesn’t make it any easier to see him so happy with someone else.
Much happier than he ever was with me, if I’m honest. Which is a bitter pill to swallow, but as much as I’d like to, I can’t deny it.
“Take care, Reed.” He gives me a quick nod and then they’re gone.
Fuck.
I rub a hand over my face, taking one deep breath after another until I don’t feel as fragile. It gets a little easier each time I see him, but fuck me, I can’t wait until it doesn’t bother me at all.
It’s been eight months now, surely that’s long enough.
“Hey, you all right?” Paul asks softly, as he sets two coffees on the table. “I saw Karl come over before they left.”
I sigh and reach for my mug, more for something to do with my hands, because I’ve learnt the hard way not to drink it straight away. “Yeah. It’s just a bit shit seeing them everywhere.” I manage a smile. “And having all the same friends so I can’t even bitch about him.”
Paul meets my gaze, expression suddenly serious. “You can bitch to me about it all you want, and I promise it’ll go no further. I’m your friend too, Reed, and I don’t want you to think you can’t talk to me about this.”
I scrunch my nose, because even though I trust that he’d keep my confidence, I don’t feel comfortable putting him in that position. Not now anyway. Not so many months later, when I’m sure all our joint friends have moved on from the subject. “Thanks. But I don’t want to make it awkward for you.”
He frowns and reaches out to grab my wrist. “Fuck’s sake, you won’t make it awkward. Yes, Karl and I are still mates, and yes, I still see him, but I’ve been where you are. Remember? Andyouwere the one who dragged me through that when everything was shit.”
He’s talking about his own bad break-up from a few years ago. I’d forgotten about it, if I’m honest, but obviously he hasn’t.
He lets go of me and settles back in his seat. “Iwantto return the favour. So if you want to bitch and moan, then I’m here for it.”
That draws a smile from me, a real one this time. “Thank you.” I’m not sure I’ll take him up on it, but knowing that the offer’s there, and that it’s genuine, goes a long way to soothing my battered heart.
Our food arrives then, thank god, because our conversation’s got way too heavy for lunch on a work day. I tuck into my tuna mayo roll and breathe a sigh of relief when Paul reads me easily and changes the subject to the latest office gossip doing the rounds.
My phone buzzes as we’re finishing up, Jerry’s name on the screen. I reluctantly changed it fromhot vet friendafter we carried on texting, and it occurred to me that someone might see it. A name like that would only invite questions I don’t want to answer.
We’ve only texted back and forth a few times over the last couple of weeks, and never anything serious, but it’s... nice. Having something separate from my life here, something untouched by all the drama and heartache of the past months.
Something that’s just mine.
I smile as I open the message and read what he’s sent.
Jerry: Just had a cat in the surgery called Toothless. Jet black with green eyes.
Reed: And was he like his namesake?
Jerry: If you mean the pissed-off version at the start of the movie, then yes. I’m now the proud owner of a couple of puncture wounds and a few scratches.
Reed: I thought vets were supposed to have a magic touch with animals.
Jerry: I’m not Dr Doolittle. And the owner’s ‘he’s not keen on the vets’ was clearly a massive understatement.
I’m full-on grinning by this point, looking up when Paul clears his throat to find him watching me, eyebrows raised.
“Sorry.” I set my phone on the table, itching to reply to Jerry’s text but realising how rude I’ve just been.
Paul smirks. “Donotapologise. Not for something that makes you smile like that.” His gaze flicks to my phone, where the screen has helpfully gone off now. “So?”
“So . . . ?”
