“I need to ask you a question,” I said, thankful for the array of distractions around us that were stopping anyone from interrupting.
“Go for it.”
“If I hadn’t wondered what would happen with us both being single at the same time, would things with you and Laurie have worked out differently?”
It wasn't what he was expecting me to say. I watched his face, his thinking process affecting his expressions, and I remembered how much I liked the way he would take to think before immediately responding.
“We tried. Back when I first suggested the idea to her, we went on a date to see how things were, and there was nothing. No chemistry, no attraction. just a couple of people who gotalong well and could have a good laugh.” He spoke slowly, concisely and with his usual precision.
“But don't you think that could have been us?” I was needing to sort out the two separate things.; Carter and Laurie, me and Carter. “Where was the attraction when we were younger? Where was the attraction earlier between us? Maybe it would have grown in time between you and Laurie, and me saying that threw a spanner in the works, and you could be having your own happily ever after now with a fake wedding that turned out to be real after all.”
“Then you're seeing things differently to how I did, Rose. Do you think that our friendship has only ever been platonic? Was there never anything more for you? Until these last few weeks?” Carter looked resolute now, a little bit victorious.
I shook my head. “Clapham Common. When you rescued me when I was at that party and needed to kiss someone. But I thought it was one-sided.”
“It was never one-sided. Your friends have told you that, I know they have.” There was an upsurge in noise from one side of the room, something to do with Fallon and shots.
I decided not to look. “Come over here.” I pulled at his shirt and guided him away from the room to the stairwell where it was quieter. “It’s been harder than I thought, imagining you saying vows to a woman that wasn’t me. I don’t blame you for that. Yes, things could’ve been done better, we could’ve communicated more, but I understand how we got here. I thought I could compartmentalise what was happening with you and Laurie and I haven’t done that like I thought. You’ve had a wedding to someone who wasn’t me, and that’s not going to change.” I inhaled, aware of the word vomit that’d just happened.
Carter nodded, understanding or at least seeming to. “Does that mean you don’t want anything from us? That you don’t want this to be any more than friends, because if that’s the way youfeel, I can live with that. I’d rather have you in my life than not, Rosie, even if it’s not in the role that I want you to be.”
“What’s that role?” I needed to hear it.
“Girlfriend. Lover. More in the future. My world feels right when you’re in it, you make the things that don’t make sense feel alright and you always have done, with your weird logic and your understanding of everyone but yourself. I’ve thought you were amazing since the day I met you and you lent me a poetry book, something so uncool but you made it seem the coolest thing to do because you believed in it - ”
“You never gave me that back.”
“Because I always wanted a reason to get in touch with you.”
I felt tears pricking at the back of my eyes and blinked them back. Had I underestimated him or myself?
“Carter,” I said, trying to compose myself because I wasn’t going to burst into tears at Harriet’s leaving party, or in front of him. “It was a signed copy and I’d really like it back.”
He looked at me, somewhat surprised.
Then I started laughing, his shocked expression summing up the last few weeks. His hands went on my waist, the first time we’d touched in days, and steadied me, laughter shaking his own shoulders, and I ended up being held to his chest, his cologne steadying my heart rate, my feet feeling steady.
Things could be right between us. Things could be okay.
“I’m not giving you your book back.”
“That’s theft.”
“It’s a long term loan. You can have it back when we share the same bookcase some day.” There was a promise in there which I recognised.
“I’m thinking more of a library.” But I knew what he was referring to.
“I like libraries.”
We fell quiet, words hanging in the air like balloons, unsure of which one to pop.
“I can’t change what’s happened, Rose.”
“I know. I know how much you’ve helped her.”
“I’ve not helped myself though.” He still held me, the warmth of his body making up for the draught coming up the stairs. “Can I - ” We were interrupted by a wild looking Fallon, who came to the landing, grabbed me, apologised and dragged me back inside.
“Speeches. I hope you prepared one.”
