I take her hand, our faces serious and solemn. ‘Okay, I’m ready. Let’s do this.’
We turn for the door. At the last second I grab for her toothbrush. Just in case. It’s got to be better than nothing, hasn’t it?
And then we go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Sweaty, broken and drained, Sam and I collapse on the sofa. It’s been an intense hour of screaming and running, with a lot of IT’S ON ME IT’S ON ME IS IT ON ME GET IT OFF ME I THINK IT’S STILL ON ME OH GOD GET IT. But we’ve finally got the ladybird and the daddy long-legs out and any remaining open windows are now firmly shut.
Our demons finally conquered – external ones at least – I go to fetch us celebratory biscuits from the kitchen. When I return, I pick up my phone. ‘I’m going to message Justin,’ I say.
‘What?’ Sam sits up straight. For a moment she looks half excited, then remembers our new deal. ‘No, you can’t do that,’ she instructs. ‘That is not a healthy choice. You need to let him and Orla go. They will only make you sad.’
I laugh at her change in tune. ‘Thank you for saying that. But actually, this isn’t some humiliating “pick me” thing. I’ve just been afraid to be honest for so long. I want to tell himthe truth.’ I gasp, turning to her. ‘I didn’t tell you! I bumped into him and Orla.’
She echoes my gasp. ‘You followed them again?’
‘No!’ I exclaim, outraged, as though we didn’t do that very thing in Hamleys not so long ago. ‘They were in my coffee shop, orderingmyhot chocolate!’
‘Not the hot chocolate with all the cream!’ She looks horrified. ‘That gave me a sugar headache for three days straight last time.’
‘Swear to god,’ I confirm. ‘It was surreal.’
‘Weretheyfollowingyou?’ She looks agog. ‘And wait, oh my god, didn’t Orla recognise you from our podcast fangirling? Ohhh, this is so unfair! I can’t believe we weren’t speaking when the maddest thing in the universe happened.’
‘I know!’ I giggle girlishly. ‘But no, I don’t think anyone was following anyone. I’m pretty sure it was just a coincidence and evidence that Justin hasn’t completely changed into a different species. He’s still too lazy to come up with his own ideas for coffee shops.’
‘And did she remember you?’ Sam is enthralled.
‘Yep.’ I swallow, remembering my horror. ‘But she didn’t tell Justin, because she is an absolute babe. She took me to one side, and we had a proper chat. She’s the nicest person, it’s a shame she’s not single.’ I grin. ‘And I feel so free of it all now. I’m actually, like’—I feel my eyes widen—‘gladfor them. I genuinely thought to myself afterwards,good for you, and I wasn’t being sarcastic!’
‘Wow.’ Sam is stunned into almost-silence. ‘No one inhistory has ever saidgood for youbefore, without being sarcastic. You’re so evolved these days. What has therapy done to you!’
‘I am evolved enough these days to realise I’m not really evolved at all,’ I sigh, typing my message to Justin. ‘I have a long way to go.’
I write out my message. It comes quickly and easily – a surprise even to me. There is no agonising over commas or kisses, because I am just not that invested. I want to say something straightforward, for my own sake. I’m not trying an angle or trying to force an outcome or manipulate him into saying something back. I just want to say what I want to say and then get on with my future without him. I hit send without even consulting Sam, and she looks annoyed but lets it go.
I reread the message quickly, feeling calm.
Hi Justin, nice to see you and Orla the other day. She seems great and I’m happy for you both. I wanted to say a proper sorry for the way I behaved that night when you ended things between us. You were right, we weren’t good for each other, and I only regret that I wasn’t more honest with us both leading up to that point. It could’ve saved us a lot of internet humiliation, ha. I really do wish you all the best. Maybe see you around my favourite hot chocolate place sometime. Hopefully with Orla. Take care, Liv x
Beside me, Sam makes a choking noise. ‘God, you expect too much of me, Liv. You have toat leastlet me read it! I won’t give you any advice, I just want to read it.’
I hand her the phone, and she scans it greedily.
True to her word, she offers nothing, except, ‘Do you feel better?’
‘I do actually.’
She opens her mouth to say something more, when my phone starts to ring in her hand. She gapes at it, then thrusts it at me like it’s molten hot.
‘It’s Justin,’ she whispers. ‘He’scalling you.’
‘Oh my god,’ I whisper back, like he can hear us. ‘Should I answer?’
She shakes her head. ‘I can’t tell you what to do. Do you think it’s a good idea? Will it make you feel better or worse?’
I stare at her, and then at the ringing phone, now lying on the sofa between us. In slow-motion, I reach for it, and hit… accept.
