And I haven’t even been on a date since we broke up.
Not. One. Date.
I can feel the anxious gaze of our friends watching our interaction while trying their best to pretend they’re talking about something else. I wait for him to scroll through his photos, stealing a glimpse at the snapshots of his new life. It looks happy and fun and perfect.
“Here he is,” Daniel says, clicking on a photo of the cutest dachshund puppy in the world.
“He’s adorable. I like his eyebrows.”
“They make him look intelligent, I think.”
“Yes, very authoritative.”
“He’s thick, though. Adorable, but an idiot. Guys,” he says, addressing the table and interrupting their conversations, “I have to tell you this story about my dumb dog yesterday. It’s hilarious. He basically got stuck in one of Francesca’s jumper sleeves. So, he was on the sofa next to me, right…”
As Daniel takes center stage and launches into his humorous story, I quietly move away from him to take my seat next to Cara. She smiles at me proudly. The others burst out laughing at apoint in Daniel’s story and I laugh along, but I’m not listening to a word he says. I’m too busy dealing with the bucketload of emotions I’m currently feeling—relief that we managed a perfectly normal discussion, irritation at him showing up and ruining what was supposed to be a relaxed, happy evening for me, and sadness that out of everyone around this table, I used to know most about him and now I know least.
Daniel’s entertaining story comes to an end and a man at the bar announces the quiz is about to begin. I sip my wine as a team name is decided on and we launch into the first round. I’ve never been brilliant at quizzes, and with Daniel here I’m even more reluctant to pipe up with an answer in case I get it wrong and everyone laughs at me, offering Daniel validation for breaking up with such a loser.
I confidently know one answer during the second round—the “Name That Film” round—when the only clue provided is a quote about the dangers of giving your heart away to something wild.
“Oh, I know,” Daniel says, tapping the quiz sheet excitedly, “it’s that cheesy musical. What’s it called?Moulin Rouge! That’s it.”
Ollie starts to write it out and I have to stop him. “No, it’s not. Sorry, it’sBreakfast at Tiffany’s.”
Daniel frowns at me. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for getting an answer right.” Becca smiles, as Ollie crosses out what he’s written so far.
“Hmm,” Daniel says, shrugging. “I still think Nicole Kidman said it, but if you’re sure.”
I waver. “I… uh…”
“I think it isBreakfast at Tiffany’s,” Jen says, nodding thoughtfully. “Now that you’ve said it, it definitely sounds right.”
“OK.” Daniel shrugs, as Ollie writes down my answer. “Youwere always good on films, Sophie. That is,” he adds, with a smile, “only rom-coms.”
“What?” I laugh, as though his throwaway comment is not affecting me to the core. “I don’t just watch rom-coms. I like lots of films.”
“Only the ones when you know there’s a happy ending,” he notes, taking a sip of his drink. “Any hint that things might not turn out as they should and you’d scarper.” He sees my expression and grins. “It’s not a bad thing!”
It is a bad thing, though,I think, smiling perfectly so no one will notice it’s bothering me.That was a dig. You think I only like happy films, the ones that bored you. That’s what you’re implying, isn’t it? Francesca probably likes watching Oscar-winning gritty films where everyone dies at the end.
“Can we have some focus, please?” Ollie cuts in, shooting Daniel a look. “Did you hear that last question? In which 1997 romance film did actor Rupert Everett sing Dionne Warwick’s ‘I Say a Little Prayer,’ catapulting the song back into the top forty almost thirty years after the original was released?”
Daniel smiles at me. “Sophie?”
“It’s—it’sMy Best Friend’s Wedding,” I say, admitting defeat.
While Cara shakes her head at an oblivious Daniel, everyone else on the team congratulates me for getting another answer. Unbelievable how Daniel has managed to make me feel ashamed of getting quiz questions correct.
I twist my wineglass round, wondering how I became so predictable.
“We’ll get the next round,” Cara announces during the break in the quiz, standing up and patting Mike’s back to encourage him onto his feet. “Same again?”
There’s a murmur of agreement and Cara and Mike head to the bar.
