“You know, Sophie, I think you should keep your hair that color,” Jen says, rubbing her bump. “It suits you.”
“I agree.” Becca nods. “It looks great.”
“Thanks.” I laugh, embarrassed. “Maybe I will keep it.”
“Really?” Daniel says, unable to hide his disapproval.
I raise my eyebrows at him. “Is it that bad?”
“No, no, it’s notbad,” he emphasizes, as the rest of the table falls into a tense silence. “It’s just not very you. It’s… out there.”
He accompanies his description with jazz hands. As I work out what I should say, Becca comes to my rescue, launching into a story about when she cut her own hair as a kid. Daniel listens to her, enraptured, while I look down at my hands, thinking about what he meant.
Red hair, according to Daniel, isout there,and therefore doesn’t suit me. Am I not cool enough for this color? Is that what he meant?
“No, course not,” Cara tells me, when we’re waiting together outside the pub for our Ubers to arrive. “He’s just being a prick.”
Daniel left with Aiden as soon as the quiz finished, saying he’d better get back to the puppy, which was no doubt being spoiled rotten and having all of its basic training ruined by Francesca. I waved him a cheery goodbye as he exited the pub to return to his perfect life.
“Don’t torture yourself with a throwaway comment that he probably didn’t mean anything by,” Cara continues, Mike nodding next to her. “Who cares what Daniel thinks anyway?”
“I wish I knew what he meant by ‘out there.’ Is it a good or a bad thing? And what was with him going on about me only liking happy endings? Does that make me boring? Does everyone think I’m boring?”
“Sophie, stop,” Cara pleads, grabbing my arm. “No one thinks you’re boring. Daniel is not in your life anymore. Whatdoes it matter what he thinks? All that matters is whatyouthink.”
“Yeah, but it was the way he said it. Like, this hair color was too daring for me or something. Too out there for someone who hides in the shadows, trailing after everyone else,” I add, thinking about Cordelia’s sheep comment.
“I don’t think that’s what he meant,” Mike says.
“Me neither,” Cara agrees.
“He’d be right, though, wouldn’t he?” I reason. “He knows I don’t have the guts to do something crazy like dye my hair red. I’m boring and safe, like the movies I watch.”
“But you have dyed your hair red,” Mike points out, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“I know, but… Never mind.”
“Go home, get cozy, and stop thinking about it,” Cara recommends, as my Uber draws up. “You were amazing tonight. Handled a horrible awkward situation like a pro.”
“No reason for it to be awkward,” I say, giving her a hug goodbye. “I’m happy for him.”
“You’ve said no to his invitation, though, right?” Cara prompts.
“Yes. Course,” I lie, opening the car door and jumping in. “Get home safe!”
I sit back, wracked with guilt for lying to Cara. She’s right. I have to say no and put this whole thing behind me. I’ve put it off long enough.
I get home, walk straight into my office, and pick up Daniel’s wedding invitation.
I run my finger over the embossed letters.
I’ve been pretending I didn’t have to say goodbye to him quite yet.
When I found out he was dating someone else just two months after we broke up, I wondered whether I was crazy andhad dreamed up our entire relationship. I was still in that horrible agony of a breakup, when you wake up and have an actual ache in your heart because that person is gone. And he was already dating someone else and putting pictures of them together up on social media. Him and Francesca in the Lake District. Him and Francesca sipping cocktails in a rooftop bar. Francesca rock-climbing, looking down at the camera from the top, sticking her tongue out and making a stupid face.
I blocked him eventually, so I wouldn’t be subjected to the torture.
“I wish you hadn’t sent me this invitation,” I say out loud.
