The barman brings over the shots and lemon slices. We clink glasses, down them, and slam them back on the table.
“Yes, I need to remain focused on work instead of my disastrous personal life. I need the brides and the brides need me.”
“They certainly do. Any fun weddings you’re working on at the moment?”
“All of them are wonderful in their own way,” I declare, prompting her to roll her eyes. “But I could do with the next big project coming my way.”
“I thought you were crazy busy.”
“It’s coming to the end of wedding season. I have some over the next few months but not many. I need to drive all thoughts of Daniel and his posh one out of my brain. I could do with having absolutely no time to think,” I say determinedly.
“You could try… oh, I don’t know… dating?” Cara says, with a sly smile. “You haven’t done that in a while. It might take up some time and it would be an excellent distraction.”
“I’d rather spend my time guiding people in choosing the perfect napkin color that reflects them as a couple.”
“When was the last time you had sex?”
I pretend to be distracted by the drinks menu.
“Sophie?” she presses. “Have you had sex since you broke up with Daniel?”
“I’ve been very busy with—”
“So it’s been over a year, huh.”
“Hey! That’s not too bad,” I say, throwing the beer mat at her. “I’m busy. And we were together for eight years! It’s not been easy to move on, then jump into bed with someone else. Obviously,hedidn’t find it all that difficult.”
“Mike has a colleague I think you’d click with,” she says, throwing the beer mat back across the table at me. “He’s good-looking and loves dogs.”
“What more could a gal want? I’ll consider it but, honestly, I’m all right for now.”
“Fair enough.” She holds up her glass. “To us! Being all right for now.”
I clink mine with hers. “Cheers to that.”
“And you know what else?” she says, a little too loudly. “Fuck Daniel and his eggshell invitation, or whatever you said it is. His voice was so booming and his hair was always stupid.”
I burst out laughing. We spend another hour in the bar, drinking wine and talking about Daniel’s flaws, until we remember it’s a Monday night and we should probably get home. I give Cara a huge hug before I get on the tube to Balham, thanking her for being there in my moment of need.
“Not a problem, favorite cousin,” she slurs, heading toward the Central line. “And remember, let yourself have a moment to be down, then RSVP, say no, and forget about it. You’re all right for now, remember.”
It’s sound advice. I need to let myself be down about it tonight, and tomorrow I’ll move forward. I’ll reply and forget this ever happened.
I get home and slump onto the sofa. I scroll through various playlists on my phone until I find the song I’m looking for and press play. Katy Perry’s “The One That Got Away” begins blaring through my Bluetooth speakers. I let out a “Ha.” Cara will find it so funny when I tell her I picked this song to listen to, over all the great songs about love and loss out there.
Then I pull the invitation out of my bag and clutch it to my chest, closing my eyes as tears roll down my cheeks.
TUESDAY, 8:00A.M.PHONE RINGS.
ME: Hello?
TIMMY: Sophie? It’s Timmy. Why is your voice so croaky?
ME: Sorry, late night.
TIMMY: Working?
ME: Sure.
