‘Allow me,’ he says.
Ugh, he’s such a gentleman, and not in a cheesy way. It’s the kind of suave that weakens your knees.
‘Thank you,’ I reply.
When the flat door opens, the noise hits us. The clatter of pans, the low hum of the extractor fan, the unmistakable smell of Italian food. Cordelia is cooking, Andy is setting the table. They both look so at home together, so domestic, so comfortable. Like they’ve been doing this together for longer than they actually have. And I feel like a stranger who is intruding.
Andy looks up first. His face lights up automatically when he sees me, then flickers, only for a fraction of a second, when he spots Jake at my side. It’s subtle, but I catch it. I always catch it.
‘Oh, hello,’ Andy says, wiping his hands on a tea towel. ‘You’re here – both of you.’
‘Hi,’ I reply, advancing deeper into the flat, deliberately leaning into Jake’s space as I do it, letting my shoulder brush his arm.
Jake dips his head politely.
‘Evenin’.’
Oof!
Cordelia turns from the cooker, wooden spoon in hand, eyes bright as ever.
‘Oh! You’re here,’ she practically sings. ‘Perfect timing. I made pasta – you’re welcome to join us.’
‘Great,’ I blurt – why did I say great? It’s not great. I’d rather sit and eat the sofa. ‘Sounds great.’
Great – again.
‘Smells real good,’ Jake says, taking off his hat. ‘Thank you.’
Andy’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of us, then lingers a second too long on where Jake’s hand has settled at the small of my back. I suppose it must be as weird for him to see me suddenly not single as it is for me seeing him with someone. We’ve both been so single for so long.
‘Come in,’ Andy says, a little too briskly. ‘Make yourselves at home.’
I almost laugh. Almost. This is my home.
We do exactly that. Jake slips his jacket off and hangs it on the hook like he’s done it a hundred times before. He wanders into the kitchen, peering curiously into the pan.
‘What’s in it?’ he says to Cordelia.
‘Secret family recipe,’ she tells him, playfully waving the spoon at him. ‘You’ll have to wait and see – it’s ready, you guys timed it perfectly and I made plenty.’
Perfectly, or some might say terribly.
We sit down to eat, the four of us around the table that suddenly feels smaller than it ever has. Conversation flows easily enough at first. Work updates. Wedding logistics. Stories from their time together in Australia, which, I don’t know, I feel like Andy hid from me while he was away. He didn’t mention Cordelia once. I suppose at first it wasn’t anything and then, when it felt serious, he wanted to tell me in person but, wow, I know it felt like he was away forever, but it definitely didn’t feel like long enough for him to find the person he was going to spend the rest of his life with.
Jake plays his part beautifully. He asks questions. He listens. He laughs at the right moments. He reaches for my glass to top it up without asking, like it’s a habit. When I tell a story, he turns his body toward me, attentive, like he’s heard it all before, and yet he still wants to hear it again. He even takes my hand, holding it in his, giving it a gentle squeeze now and then. I don’t know if it’s because JJ told him to, or to remind me I’m doing okay, but, either way, I appreciate it.
‘How was your meeting with JJ?’ Andy asks. ‘Has she finally got you a book deal?’
He always asks, and I always say no. But now I have a different answer.
‘Actually, since our viral moment, JJ says there’s lots of interest in me as a romance writer, so here’s hoping,’ I reply. ‘If not, I’m sure she could get me on the next series ofWelcome to Singledom.’
‘They’re usually in their twenties, aren’t they?’ Cordelia says innocently.
I mean, I was only kidding, but is she trying to say I’m too old?
Dinner winds down and Cordelia and Andy insist they clean up. I watch them move around each other in the kitchen, again, so natural together, like maybe they were already living together while they were in Australia. I don’t want to watch it. It almost hurts, to see them so happy. I can only think of one way to retaliate – but I definitely haven’t thought it through.
