I look at Ollie, who is studying his plate instead of looking back at me. And my gaze falls on Ben. What would he do if he found out? Did he see how close we were? I adore these two men, but in such different ways. I’m just not sure what ways yet. Ben makes me laugh the way he always did, surprising me as we talk, moving from subject to subject as frenetically as ever. He talks about Liv and James and I cast a glance at Ollie, curious about what he thinks of Liv’s new boyfriend.
‘He’s nice,’ Ollie says, still not looking at me.
‘Blah-blah-blah,’ Ben replies, which makes both me andOllie laugh. ‘What do youreallythink? Now that you met him tonight.’
‘If he makes Liv happy – and I’m guessing he does – then he’s doing better than I did,’ Ollie counters. ‘Because I didn’t make her happy. So I’m pleased for her. I think I’ll always love her, though, a bit.’
Ben’s eyebrows rise skywards.
‘Not like that,’ Ollie’s quick to say. ‘But she’s Liv: she’s my ex, my first proper girlfriend, now my friend, and we’re doing OK as friends. So as long as James doesn’t mind me and Liv being mates, then—’
‘I doubt he cares,’ Ben scoffs. ‘Have you seen his arms? The size of those things. You’re no threat to him.’
‘Thanks, mate,’ Ollie says flatly and I snigger into my coffee cup. Sometimes Ben is just too much. Ollie catches my eye, finally, and we share a tiny moment. And, to me, it feels like everything. There is a connection there, isn’t there? I’m not imagining this.
‘Do you think,’ Ben starts, ‘that if you asked Liv to get back with you, she would? I always used to think she’d come running if you tried.’
‘Oh my God, Ben!’ I cry. ‘You shit-stirrer.’
‘I’ll bet she would,’ Ben continues, ignoring me. ‘I’ll bet she’d drop James in a heartbeat if you showed proper interest this time. You’re the one that got away. Despite the fact she dumped you.’
‘Be quiet,’ Ollie chastises, looking to me for help.
‘I don’t think she would,’ I jump in dutifully. ‘She and James, they’re happy. It’s new, but they’re very alike. You andLiv were nothing like each other,’ I say to Ollie. ‘And neither of you was happy. It’s all worked out for the best in the end.’
‘Sometimes I wonder,’ Ben starts up again.
But I don’t even care what he wants to say next. I think he needs to shut up and drink his coffee, eat his breakfast. I curse his relentless energy. I forgot how high he could be one moment, how low the next. I used to love that energy. Now my head hurts. It might be the champagne, though, the lack of sleep, the hangover that’s beginning.
And then Ben surprises me by saying, ‘Sometimes I wonder if you and I might get back together,’ but his eyes don’t meet mine and he’s looking at his plate.
‘Er … no,’ I reply gently, reaching for the juice.
‘That’s you told,’ Ollie says, aiming for lightness, although he gives Ben aStop itlook.
‘You’re not serious, are you?’ I ask as I spy the look passing between them.
Ollie’s gone quiet, assessing this impending car crash in slow motion.
‘No, don’t think so. I just struggle, you know, to work out what I’m doing and where I’m going; and you were a rock, a safety net, you all were – and … sorry, never mind,’ Ben goes on.
The mood has changed in here so quickly.
‘Don’t be sorry,’ I reply. ‘Please, say what you want to, although …’ I trail off. We aren’t getting back together. It’s not going to happen. But I don’t want to hurt him when he looks so vulnerable.
Ben seems like he’s going to cry. I put my hand on his andgive Ollie a pleading glance. Ollie inches forward on his bar stool, puts his hand on Ben’s other arm.
‘I think it’s going back to that time in my head,’ Ben says. ‘I’m struggling to be happy now, and I was so happy then. It was so easy. Now it’s so difficult. Why is it so difficult?’
‘Oh, Ben,’ I cry and I climb off my stool, move to his side and hold him. He puts his head on my shoulder and I can see Ollie’s sympathetic expression. ‘I wish we could go back in time. I wish we could all be at university together again. Maybe just that first year, on repeat. The minute it finishes, it goes back to the start – I’d love that. It was the best year I’ve ever had.’
I stroke his hair, feel tears dampening my shoulder through my party dress.
‘Me too,’ Ollie confesses and I find myself saying the same thing. Because it probably was: that freedom, that sense of finding yourself, your tribe, your people. We found our people. We found each other.
‘We haven’t let each other go,’ I say.
‘We have,’ Ben says.
