“Who made this?”
“Me and Rupert did.”
“You did?”
“Yup. I asked your mum how to make it, and I even ate some too.”
“That’s amazing.”
“Is it?” Jodi finally unstrapped the weights from his legs and gave Sophie his full attention. “What the fuck are you crying for?”
“Why do you think? Jesus, Jodi. You’re such an arsehole sometimes!”
Sophie turned and fled back to the kitchen, slamming the door. Jodi stared after her, perplexed. What the hell had he missed this time?
It became no clearer as the sudden silence enveloped him like a thick, choking smog. He wished Rupert was there to explain it to him, then killed the thought before it could take root. This was about Sophie, not Rupert, and he didn’t have the energy to figure out why they felt like one and the same.
He got up and took a deep breath, then approached the kitchen door, tapping lightly on the frame before venturing inside. “Soph? Are you okay?”
Sophie didn’t look up from the pile of carrots she was obliterating into tiny pieces. “I’m fine.”
“Why are you crying, then?”
“I’mnot.”
“Yes, you are.” Jodi came up behind her and stilled the knife in her hand. He drew her into a tight hug, then cupped her face in his palms. “What’s wrong? Tell me?”
Sophie pushed Jodi’s hands away and wiped her eyes. “I can’t tell you, because it doesn’t make any sense.”
“So? Nothing makes sense to me these days. Doesn’t mean I can’t listen.”
“You always used to, you know. Even after we’d split up, and before, when we’d stopped having sex and started seeing other people, I could always talk to you about anything. You’re my best friend.”
“I am?”
Sophie sniffed. “Of course you are. But it’s not the same— You’re not the same. Or maybe you are. Sometimes you sound just like you used to, and it hurts, Jodi, because we miss you,Imiss you. I’m with you all the time, but I miss you so much.”
Jodi didn’t know what to say. It was the second occasion in as many days he’d been called someone’s best friend, but he didn’t believe it. Couldn’t. How could he be anyone’s best friend when he didn’t have a clue who he was? “Why are you crying today? I don’t understand.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Sophie shrugged and grabbed a sheet of kitchen paper from a nearby roll. “It’s hard to keep up sometimes. We had a lovely day last time I was here, and it felt like I had you back—as my friend—and you said you had fun with Rupert too. Then the next thing I know you’re biting my head off again, and it’s upsetting, you know? It’s like the old you gets dangled in front of me, then ripped away. I can’t imagine how Rupert—” Sophie bit her lip.
Jodi raised an eyebrow. “How Rupert what?”
“How Rupert copes without you. Jodi, you’re everything to him. You and Indie. You know that, don’t you?”
Did he? For a moment it felt like every other question Jodi couldn’t answer, then Rupert flashed into his mind, with his steady hands and unwavering gaze, and Jodi knew Sophie was right.
He loves me.
* * *
“You haven’t wanted to talk about Rupert since our sessions began. What’s changed?”
Jodi sat back in his chair and considered Ken’s question. He’d come to the session under the usual cloud of apathy and boredom, but he’d barely sat his arse in the squeaky leather chair before he’d found himself confessing his ever-growing infatuation with Rupert.
Ken’s reaction hadn’t been as clarifying as Jodi had hoped.“What’s changed?”Fuck’s sake. Hadn’t Jodi just bloody told him?
“Everything’s changed,” Jodi said. “I woke up one day thinking about him, and I haven’t stopped since.”
