After that, nothing happened for ages. Our friends always talked about it. They kept telling me he really did like me, but I wasn’t convinced. We were so different. He was popular, fun, and outgoing, the life of the party, always doing hilarious, crazy things. I, on the other hand, was so sensible and reliable that at junior school my headmistress asked if I would mind being head girlandhead boy. I proudly became the first head person the school had ever had.
Not only were Daniel and I very different, but I was also terrified. I felt so lucky to be friends with him. I wanted to protect that friendship. I didn’t want our group to change.
One night, after a few too many vodka shots, I admitted to my friends that, OK, I did quite like him. And that same night he kissed another girl in our friendship group.
“You see?” I wailed, when we got home and I climbed into the empty bath for a deep, meaningful conversation with two of my housemates. “He doesn’tactuallylike me. Not seriously.”
The confusing do-we-really-like-each-other saga continued until third year, when, in Cara’s phrasing, we decided to “get over ourselves” and started going out properly. And it was perfect. We knew each other so well, we’d been such good friends, that the relationship was easy. Daniel and Sophie. Sophie and Daniel. Everyone had known it was going to happen. It was meant to be. Nothing about our friendship group changed, except nights out were much more fun because Daniel and I weren’t getting irrationally jealous or pretending that we didn’t want to be around each other all the time. When we all moved to London after graduating, we didn’t want to move in together straightaway as that wasn’t sensible, but we spent so much time together that soon it wasn’t sensible to live apart.
I couldn’t believe I’d been so lucky as to find someone like him. He was The One. He made me laugh all the time. I felt guilty when my single friends complained about dating and the difficulty of finding someone. I felt I didn’t deserve to be so happy.
Then eight years after we got over ourselves and got together, he got over me.
I didn’t see it coming. That was the most humiliating thing about it. I had no idea. Not one clue, right up until the evening he sat me down on the sofa to chat. I was completely ignorant. A true idiot to be so smug in a relationship I thought was a happy one.
He didn’t love me anymore, he said. He was so sorry.
“Here we go,” Cara says, placing a shot with a lemon slice in front of me and holding up hers to clink.
We down our shots and I grimace at the burning sensation in my throat followed by the sourness of the lemon.
“Did you know about the engagement?” I ask, as she takes her seat. “Did Jen or anyone tell you?”
As we’re so close, Cara has become an honorary member of my friendship group, having visited me several times at university, then being dragged along to most parties I’ve ever gone to as my support crew. Already a key figure in the circle, she became indispensable after Daniel broke up with me and I had to see him at the occasional pub gathering with all our mutual friends. While others, like Jen, had to be neutral, Cara was firmly on my side.
“Sophie, of course I didn’t know,” she says gently. “I would have told you.”
“They must have been engaged awhile. Or they’re getting married super quickly. I can’t believe they managed to secure Belmond Manor at short notice—it’s one of the most sought-after venues. Although I suppose they are getting married in February, so it’s not peak season. You should google Belmond Manor when you have a moment. It really is the most beautiful place.…” I trail off.
“But, really, why did he invite you?” Cara asks, still confused. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe he felt it would be unfair to invite the whole group from university and not me. He wouldn’t want me to feel left out. He was always quite thoughtful like that.”
“Oh, come on! You’re thirty-one! This isn’t the school playground.”
“Well, that’s the only reason I can think of. We always got on well. And things haven’t been the same with our uni group since we broke up. It’s been so awkward for everyone. Maybe he wants to change that and make it better between us. Maybe he wants us to be, you know, friends.”
“By inviting you to hiswedding? Sophie, if he’d wanted to be pals, he would have invited you to bloody dinner at Pizza Express or something. And maybe if he’d wanted to stay friends, he wouldn’t have shacked up with someone onlytwo monthsafter ending an eight-year relationship, and wouldn’t have proposed to her after ayear.” Cara shakes her head, her lips pursed. “I hope I bump into him soon so I can punch him in the face.”
I laugh. “Well, then, I hope you don’t bump into him. He never did anything wrong.”
“Ha!”
“Technically, he didn’t! Yes, it was fast, but he didn’t cheat on me. Look, Cara, I know you’re worried but I’ll be fine. I know I will be. It’s just… opening that envelope, it was like all the pain I thought I’d finally got over came flooding back. Eight years of my life wasted on someone who’s proposed to someone else after just one. Meanwhile, I’m sitting at home alone, attracted to premium thick matte envelopes with an eggshell finish. Ugh.” I rest my forehead on the table. “I’m a disaster.”
“You’re not,” Cara says, patting the top of my head. “Although we should maybe talk about the envelope thing another time.”
“What’s wrong withme?”
I lift my head from the table to look at her. A beer mat is stuck to my face. Brilliant.
“For God’s sake!” I cry, as Cara reaches over to peel it off sympathetically. “See? I’m a mess. Someone who downs shots of tequila on a Monday night and walks around with beer mats stuck to their face!”
“That’s a slight exaggeration and you don’t normally do tequila on a Monday night. You’re the most sensible, in-control-of-everything person I know. No one would ever describe you as a mess,” she assures me, signaling for the barman to bring us two more shots. “Look, that invitation was a cruel shock. Reply and forget it. Focus on your career. You have so much going foryou right now! Daniel was never supportive of you! Do you remember how he used to tease you about your love of weddings? And not in a nice way but in a really snobby way? And now look! Without him, you’ve made a career out of your passion.”
I nod slowly. “You’re right.”
“Of course I am. Eugh, don’t let Daniel’s wedding invitation throw you off course. You’re much happier now than you ever were with him.”
