I sit down on my bed and wait for her to elaborate.
‘I’m having a bit of a day,’ she says finally, her eyes fixed on the wall.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
She nods but I watch as she searches for the words. ‘Dolly, do you ever wonder…’ Carys begins, but she trails off, her eyes focused somewhere else.
‘Do I wonder what?’
‘If… if people are lying.’
I really do try to hold back the laugh, but it comes out as a littleha.
She barely responds. Only her eyes sliding over to me suggests she even heard me. I wonder if she’s been drinking.
I clear my throat. ‘I think that people lie about all kinds of things, all the time. That’s the human condition. I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing, but I guess that depends on what they’re lying about.’
She nods but says no more. What happened today? Did she have a bad date with Patrick? I feel like if they’d broken up, someone would have warned me. And I can’t imagine him saying anything that bad to her. After all, he’s just a mild-mannered Yorkshire man who likes mojitos and seems besotted with her, but then, I have seen some of the dogshit ways men speak to and about women on dating shows. I shouldn’t bethatsurprised if he has.
Did she find out about his ex-girlfriend? The one with the flower name. Peony, that was it.
Or maybe one of the women gunning for Patrick said something to her?
‘What about people lying about love?’ she continues. ‘Like, about the way it feels. How you are supposed to act.’
She turns her gigantic doe eyes up at me, and a pang shoots through my heart.
Fuck, she looks so sad. ‘Should I get Reb?’
‘No!’ she blurts, which is more than enough answer for me. ‘Will you… will you stay with me?’
I ignore the swirling in my stomach. ‘Did something happen with Patrick? Did he upset you?’
Carys’s cinnamon curls bounce as she shakes her head. ‘No. He was a total gentleman, as always.’ There’s not a hint of sarcasm, which is a relief. That’s not really Carys’s style.
‘Okay, good. I’m glad he was nice to you,’ I say, hoping to see a glimmer of a smile, but there’s nothing. She’s just curled up like a sad prawn.
‘Can you elaborate on what you meant about lying about love?’
She stops and starts a few times, and I can see she’s getting frustrated with herself from the clench of her fists.
I reach over the gap between us, and take her angry claw, expecting it to unclench in mine, but it stays clammed up. ‘Take your time. There’s no rush.’
I try to ignore the way the back of my neck prickles when she looks at me.
‘The sparks,’ she whispers.
Or at least, that’s what I think she says. ‘Sparks?’ I echo.
‘Yes. I hear all this talk about sparks, fireworks, about feeling something deep in your chest when you see them. And then also aboutjust knowingwhen you’ve met the right person.’
‘Well, yeah,’ I scramble, trying to follow what she’s saying. ‘The fireworks? That’s attraction, really. That’s not always the same thing as love.’
She shakes her head, and the moment her eyes move off me, I realise how hot I felt under that gaze. ‘I just wish it was clearer.’
‘When you have them?’
She doesn’t answer me.
