‘Chloe! You can’t blame me!’
‘I can!’
‘I also suggested you added stilt-walking and that you played basketball at Olympic level.’
‘See! You remember! You know it was you.’ The yellow beanie or the black beanie? She threw both on the heap.
‘And you got the job!’ Kat reminded, slurping her drink. ‘The job you love! The job you loved more than Michael!’
Chloe froze like she was perhaps already in Iceland being turned into an ice statue. ‘Why would you say that? I loved Michael. It was Michael who left me, remember?’
‘I know, I wasn’t saying that you didn’t love him, just that you really love your job and you got the job and you’re going on a work trip for the job you love and?—’
‘And I obviously didn’t love Michael enough? Perhaps that’s why we couldn’t have children together. Maybe it was nothing to do with the quality of my eggs but more to do with the quality of my heart!’
‘Chloe, I didn’t mean that at all! I take it back. It was a thoughtless stupid comment and I’m an idiot and my karma will be my mother visiting, trust me.’
Chloe swallowed the knot in her throat. Was it true that she had loved her job more than she’d loved Michael? She remembered working super hard to make a vital first impression with Michelle in the beginning but, when she and Michael had decided to try to have a baby she had been so incredibly happy, focussed on making it happen. She had always wanted a family and they both had great solid career foundations with good incomes and the apartment they had renovated had a second bedroom perfect for a nursery. Practicalities. The next steps on the relationship travelator. Not deep, soul-searing love? Was Kat right?
She wanted to cry. All the feelings were there, trying to bubble up into existence but… she didn’t cry. Not any more. What was the point of tears? It didn’t change anything. And, whether she was too work-focussed or not, the facts were that Michael had looked at her differently from the minute the doctor had told them the news. Next he had held her differently. Then they had made love less often until, not at all. Finally, everything drifted like an untethered boat, until there was just the husk of what they had been together. And no one wanted a future based on a loveless shell, empty except for a pile of broken hopes and dreams. Chloe dropped to the bed, the cabin bag tipping to the left and shedding its contents onto the duvet cover.
‘Chlo,’ Kat said, diving onto the bed next to her and putting an arm around her shoulders. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s fine,’ she answered. ‘I expect Michael’s seeing someone else now. Someone who doesn’t take Pinterest to bed with them.’
‘You think he’ll be seeing someone else? Already? No, I wouldn’t have thought so.’
‘It’s almost nine months since he left.’ The irony.
‘Is it?’
She nodded. ‘But, you know, I used to count in days not months so, I’m healing.’
‘I know,’ Kat said, hugging her close, breath like she’d spent all day at a bar. ‘And you know what Instagram says is great for healing?’
‘Collagen cream?’
‘No.’
‘Hair straighteners that turn into curlers that turn into an air-fryer?’
‘That one is on my Christmas list! But no.’ She squeezed Chloe’s shoulder. ‘Travel. New experiences. Doing something last minute.’
‘Like learning a language I’ve told people I already know.’
‘Chlo, so what if you don’t know Icelandic. You’re not fazed by anything!’ Kat reminded. ‘You have the world at your feet! An amazing opportunity to boss this Sinclairz Chairs thing and claim that partner position. And who gives a crap what Michael is doing with whoever he’s doing it with! Michael who?’
Chloe nodded. Kat was right. It didn’t matter if she didn’t know Icelandic. Everyone spoke English, right? It was a minor detail. A small one-line incision in her practically glowing resumé. Her career meant more to her than ever. Her career had never let her down. Her career had never made her return a Mamas and Papas gift card for a refund…
‘OK,’ Chloe said, standing up. ‘OK, I need to get all this stuff into this bag and then I need to get to sleep before I need to get up again and get to the airport.’
‘Right,’ Kat said, standing too and clapping her hands together. ‘And it’s “áttu vin”.’
‘What?’
‘Áttu vin. The Icelandic for “do you have wine”.’
‘OK,’ Chloe said, smiling. ‘I will say it to the very first person I meet.’
