She smiles. “Maybe some of it. But I was… harsh. We never talked about what happened back then.”
“University, you mean?” I can’t meet her gaze. The awful squirming feeling hits me, the way it always does when I think about those years, like ants are crawling under my skin. “I always thought you judged me. For quitting.”
“But why?”
“Like you say. We never talked about it. You never reached out. And you were doing so well at Cambridge, I didn’t want to bring you down.”
“I did reach out, you idiot. I called you every day for weeks. You wouldn’t answer your phone.”
“Oh.”
When I try to remember that time in my life, the images are blurry. Single snapshots, with darkness in between. My entire body heavy. Impossible to get out of bed. Everything I’d once loved pointless. Joyless. Days and weeks that warped and blended into one. I was bad with my phone, I knew that much, and while I’ve always assumed Sophie didn’t call, it’s perfectly possible I didn’t pick up.
More than possible. Likely.
And just like that, a resentment I didn’t realise I was holding on to is released. A knot unwinds in my chest. Some of the heaviness falls away.
“I never judged you, Ro. I thought you were brave for leaving. For putting yourself first. I wanted to be there for you – but you wouldn’t let me. You wouldn’t let any of us. Why do you think Mum worries so much?”
“I guess I thought that’s what she was like. Overprotective.”
“You were drowning, and you wouldn’t let any of us help you.” Sophie shakes her head. “You told yourself this story that everything was too stressful or too hard, that you weren’t capable. I can’t tell you how frustrating the last ten years have been. Watching you settle over and over again for something – or someone – who isn’t worthy of you. Or quitting before you have a chance to fail. You keep yourself so tightly swaddled that it’s a wonder you can breathe at all.”
“You really believe that?” I blink back a tear. “You don’t get it, Soph. Life feels really fucking hard sometimes. Everything, the way I’ve lived… I’m trying to stay alive.”
“I do get that. But it feels like somewhere along the way, you became so focused on staying alive that you forgot to keep living. I’m not trying to upset you. I’m glad you dumped Ethan. I’m even kind of glad you went on that stupid hike. Even if it does make you the worst maid-of-honour in the world.”
“Yeah?”
She sighs. “It gives me hope. I think you’re brilliant. So does Mum. And I’m sure there are loads of other people who would agree. The only person who has ever doubted that is you.”
“I never loved Ethan,” I confess. “Now that he’s gone, all I feel is… relief?”
Sophie nods. “He was your shield. You used him to hide from life. To justify the way you feel about yourself. I’m glad you can see your own worth now.” Then she freezes, her eyes shooting to mine. “Oh god.”
“What?” I ask.
It’s been years since Sophie and I have had a proper conversation. Since we checked in. I thought she didn’t care, when all this time, she’s been biting her tongue. I’m glad she’s opened up to me. Even if it’s hard. Even if it hurts.
“Ugh. How can I be so wise and so stupid at the same time?”
“I’m not going to lie, you’re kind of freaking me out.”
“I have to leave Henry.”
“You what? Um, earth to Sophie, not sure if you realise this, but today is your wedding day?”
“No.” She says it calmly, but there is madness lurking her blue eyes. “It’s not.”
“I don’t understand.”
Sophie stands up, her silk gown capturing every curve. She looks regal, the morning sun lighting her hair.
“I have to tell him.”
“Sophie!”
I narrowly beat her to the door, blocking the handle with my hip. I don’t know what’s come over her, but there is no way I’m letting her leave this room.
