I nod, smile sadly, because we were. Until we weren’t.
‘What I’m trying to say is: I’m sorry. For how we were, how we ended, why we ended. And … I’m changing. I know I need to.’
My stomach tightens at this. That feeling of needing to see into the future returns.
‘I’m not asking you to take me back,’ Ben starts. ‘But I am asking you to be in my life.’
I try to say the word ‘Oh’, but it doesn’t come out, as a lump arrives in the back of my throat, forcing silent tears into my eyes. How can I say no to this, to him? I can’t. I just can’t.
I nod. ‘OK.’
He lets out a huge sigh of relief. ‘Thanks.’
‘You don’t have to thank me,’ I say. ‘I want to be friends. I’ve wanted it for ages.’
‘I’ve wanted it too,’ Ben says and puts his coffee down on the table in front of us. He turns towards me fully now. ‘I’m really sorry for the way I acted. For how I misbehaved.’
‘Misbehaved,’ I echo. ‘Like a child?’
‘I was a child. I still am. I’m trying not to be, though.’
My heart breaks a little for him now – for us, for everything we went through together and for everything he went through without me since I left. I have no idea what it entailed.
‘It was a wake-up call,’ he says as if reading my mind. ‘All of it was a wake-up call, and I’m sorry.’
‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry too.’
‘You don’t need to apologise.’ He looks embarrassed, shakes his head gently and stares towards the skyline as if he can’t meet my eyes. ‘I wish I hadn’t driven you away.’
I want to say, ‘Me too’, but I don’t. I just make a semi-there ‘Mmm’ sort of noise instead.
‘Maybe it was the push you needed,’ he volunteers.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Look at this place. Look at you: your career, your life, your success. That wouldn’t have happened if you’d been slumming it with me, trying to keep me on the straight-and-narrow.’
‘Well,’ I say non-committally. ‘You don’t know that’s what would have happened. But I suppose it’s turned out the way it has.’
Ben leans forward, picks up his coffee. Now it’s cooled,he drinks the rest of it in one go. There’s a part of me that’s expecting him to make a move and I’m not sure now if he will, or if I want that. I can’t tell. He’s disarming me just by being here. It’s confusing. All of it.
‘I should go,’ Ben says. And the confusion settles deeper within me. I don’t want him to go. Not now. He’s only just got here.
‘If I have a house-warming party, will you come?’ I ask. I have no idea where this idea came from. I want the four of us to get together and perhaps this is the best way – the most sane, low-pressured way. We can be among other people while we find out if this will still work.
‘I’d love that,’ Ben replies, his eyes gleaming. ‘Message me? Let me know when?’
‘I will,’ I tell him.
‘What are you doing for the rest of the day?’
‘I have to go and pack. I’m in Scotland tomorrow for a shoot.’
‘Swimwear again?’ Ben asks.
‘Equestrian-wear. I have to get on a horse. What are you doing for the rest of the day?’
‘Confessing to Ollie where I’ve been and admitting how I got your address.’
