Craig squints at the profile picture, James’s beautifully coiffured hair waving back at him.
“He’s a ‘Wealth Management Strategist’,” I say.
“Oh, they’re the worst,” Craig says.
“And then there was the Chris thing,” I add.
“Wait, who?” Craig looks confused.
“Chris. The Ex.”
“Who’s Ex?” Craig clarifies.
“Good point. Pete’s Ex.”
“Oh.”
“His name just… came up. Like Beetlejuice. And then the whole table went silent, and I wanted to crawl into the floor and die.”
“Oh wow,” Craig looks bemused. “There’s a lot going on here. What do you know about Chris?”
“Literally nothing, which makes me think he must be a supermodel or an MI5 agent or some beautiful fitness influencer or something.”
There’s a moment of pause, where Craig processes what he can of this mess.
“I’m just saying,” he says carefully, “this might not be a situation you want to entangle yourself in too deeply. You’re still—”
“Recovering, I know,” I say, waving a hand. “But I like Pete. And maybe if I build a friendship with James, it’ll make things less weird.”
Craig sighs. “I’m not sure this is a good idea. Just… be careful, okay?”
Later that evening, I meet Pete for a drink. We’re in a little pub tucked away off Gloucester Road, all wood panelling and ironic gin menus. Pete smiles when he sees me, and suddenly my shoulders drop; I didn’t realise how tense I’d been until that moment.
“How are you feeling after last night?” he asks as we sit down.
“Like I survived a Hunger Games trial run,” I say.
He laughs, and I feel absurdly proud for making him laugh. “James can be… intense.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” I say. “He barely said a word, but it was like he was in my head with a megaphone.”
“Look, I probably should have warned you—”
“You think?” I cut in with a laugh.
“I just didn’t want to put you off coming.”
“It wouldn’t have,” I lie.
Pete nods, tracing a circle on the table with his finger. “He struggles with me… exploring the emotional side of things outside the relationship.”
I scrunch my face up. “But you’re in an open relationship though? Isn’t this the whole point?”
Pete nods. “Yes, you’re right. It’s something we both want. But he just finds it more difficult than me.”
“That’s the bit I don’t get,” I say, leaning in. “He has a boyfriend! And you’re meant to feel, what, guilty?”
Pete gives me a small smile. “It’s different when it’s on the other side. For him, anyway. He wasn’t comfortable with it at first. Casual sex he can manage. Romance? That’s harder for him.”
