I clutch a hand to my chest. Am I having a heart attack?
‘What’s up, babe?’ Alice asks, only mildly shocked at my reaction.
‘Read it!’
She picks up my phone; her hand must be made of asbestos. She gasps. The perfect, melodramatic kind. I feel vindicated.
‘He did not.’
‘He did.’ Why did my voice sound so choked? ‘He invited me to the wedding.’
‘They only just bloody announced it. It’s seven months away. Why so fast?’
‘Forced.’ I can’t stop myself on speculating. ‘Oh, poor Ollie, forced against his will to marry someone at long last.’ Has to be the only logical explanation. I mop my brow for dramatic effect.
‘But he loves marriage.’
‘Anarrangedmarriage.’
‘Be serious, Will.’ Alice rolls her eyes.
‘Fine. Maybe he just couldn’t wait any longer.’
Taking the phone back from her, I try to get inside Ollie’s head.
Why?
Why would Ollie want me at his wedding?
I pace, lapping around my apartment as though it were an Olympic sport. It’s frightful, but also uncontrollable.
We’re friends. The type of friends that can go a year without talking but slip right back into it like they’ve only been apart a few hours. That’s what this is. A friend inviting me to their wedding. Completely normal. Fine. Absolutely.
Besides, this gives me enough time to reach out to him, show I’m happy and fine, show him that Ithinkthis is normal, because it is, but to me, it is not.
‘Alec’s last name is Aniston, isn’t it?’
‘You know that because?’
Alice looks at me. ‘The screenshots you sent me, and the fact you told me you can’t look at Rachel Green the same way.’
‘Ah, yes.’
Alice holds up her hands. ‘Well, that’s Greek. Alec might have family there.’
Of course, Alec Aniston had a Greek family. Why wouldn’t he? One more perfect bow to his perfect life.
‘Oh, Alice, what do I do?’
‘Go.’
I stop pacing. A good thing because I’d put a hole in the floor if I continued.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Go,’ Alice repeats. ‘You clearly want to go.’
Not for the first time today, I find myself on the floor. It helps. I fold like burning paper. Lying my head against the cold floor grounds me as a monstera plant leaf brushes my face. I imagine trying to relax in Greece, acting as if everything was fine.
