‘I don’t want to see him,’ she says, shrinking into herself.
I get up and head towards the door. ‘I’ll get rid of him.’
As I open the door, I turn back toward the sound of her shouting, ‘I don’t want to see you!’
‘That’s okay. I don’t particularly want to see you either.’
And that’s not William. That’s Arthur, and he’s looking at me. That stupid sad little puppy face that nearly made me crumble two days ago. Then he looks down and clocks that I’m still in his jumper, which I have definitely, absolutely, certainly removed at some point in the last two days more than just when I needed to shower.
‘Oh,’ Bee yells, but softer.
‘You haven’t replied to my texts,’ Arthur says, drawing my attention back.
And I cross my arms, trying and certainly failing to look sassy and over it. I think it’s the jumper. ‘In these modern times, one can safely assume that if a response isn’t received, it is for a reason.’
‘Look, I’m sorry for criticising your decision to come back,’ he says, eyes pleading. ‘It was entirely your prerogative, and not mine to question.’
His apology annoys me more. Just double down on your poor decisions and make it easier for me to hate you, damn it. ‘I don’t need your approval for the choices I make.’
Metaphorically backed into a corner, he looks around for a physical way out. ‘No, of course not,’ he says, nodding. ‘I don’t want to suggest that either.’ He sighs. ‘I’m just sorry our day ended the way it did.’
‘Thank you,’ I say. Arms still crossed. I have to hold in what I really want to say. I’m sorry too. I wish I was still in your bed. Hold me.
I’m angry at him, I have to remind my traitorous heart. And he’s still on the threshold, which he has now noticed. ‘Can I come in?’ he asks, hopeful.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you.’ Good riposte. Definitely not teenage-level.
He takes a step closer to me. I have to end this interaction very soon, or my resolve will crumble and I’ll be a puddle in his arms. ‘I was given the opportunity to observe behaviour I found unsavoury in a romantic partner, and I am currently taking the time to consider my options.’
Arthur looks horrified. And confused. Like he’s combing through every moment from the weekend to find where he went wrong. I’ve dug myself a hole now, so I may as well just come out with all of it. Quickest way to end it, really. ‘You knew what William did, and you texted him back like it was nothing.’
‘Was I meant to just cut him off immediately based on one emotionally charged phone call with your toxic BFF?’
‘Have you since called out his poor behaviour? Tried to hold him accountable?’
‘Yeah, fuck William!’ Bee shouts unhelpfully from the living room.
‘I haven’t even seen him!’
‘But you’ve talked.’
‘Well…’
‘About the situation?’
‘No,’ he admits. ‘About A-League.’
There it is. ‘So you’ve walked past his standard, which means you accept it.’
‘It does not!’ he yells. ‘How dare you lump me in with him? I have never…would never…do that.’
‘You’ll just be friends with someone who does,’ I say.
‘Well, you’ll be friends with someone who treats you like shit. In fact, you’ll come back begging for more the moment she crooks her bony finger!’
