‘And the film is finally coming out,’ Maisie continues. ‘The one she was working on, before—’
‘I know.’ He’s still looking down.
‘So you’ll know that there’s a screening,’ Maisie says, eyes still focused on her cup. ‘Small. Relatively small. She wanted it that way. Cast, crew. Friends, colleagues. Et cetera.’
Seb looks at her. ‘Maisie,’ he says. ‘Please.’
‘I don’t get it,’ she says. ‘Things were going so well.’
‘That’s the problem,’ Seb replies. ‘It always is, until it isn’t.’
‘What a stupid way to look at the world.’
Seb looks surprised.
‘What?’ Maisie says. ‘It is. Not everything’s about you.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Leaving isn’t noble,’ she says. ‘It’s selfish. You make people happy.’ She smirks. ‘Some people.’ She reaches for his hand. ‘Andyoudeserve to be happy, too.’
His eyes grow misty. ‘I’m not sure I do,’ he says. ‘I’m not sure I know how.’
‘You know exactly how.’
Seb rubs his brow, as if his head hurts. ‘How is she?’ he says.
‘Ask her yourself,’ Maisie replies. ‘At the screening.’
‘She wouldn’t want me there.’
Maisie nods. ‘She probably wouldn’t. She’d say she didn’t, atleast.’ She takes a sip of her coffee. ‘As far as she’s concerned, you’re done.’
‘As far asI’mconcerned—’
‘You’re back,’ Maisie says, cutting across him. ‘And we both know you’re not back for me.’
Seb doesn’t contradict her.
‘Do you really think she won’t leave a ticket for you?’ Maisie says. ‘That she won’t put your name on that list?’
Seb clasps his hands in his lap. ‘I couldn’t,’ he says. ‘I can’t. It’s not fair on Nora.’
Three hearts broke when Seb walked away. It’s no wonder what Clara said to him, that message that Maisie had heard from both sides.I’ll never forgive you for doing this to her.There’s a shift in one of the old floorboards upstairs, and Maisie allows herself to imagine once again that it’s her husband, stepping out of his office to pad down the stairs and steal the dregs of their cafetiere. She imagines him entering the room, bare feet in Birkenstocks, his lips kissing the top of her head, his hand drumming on the top of Seb’s. Nimesh would know what to say. She sees him everywhere, at the edges of the garden or around the corner of every street, or lingering behind the fogged glass of the front door, never quite putting his key in the lock. She feels him in everything she does. She sees him in all the empty spaces.
‘I met you and Clara at the same point in your lives,’ Maisie says. ‘Back when you were young and stupid.’
‘What are we now?’
‘Older,’ Maisie says. ‘And stupider.’
Seb nods. ‘Harsh.’
‘It’s true, though,’ she says. ‘You were never going to be friends. Nimesh said it himself.’ She smiles at the memory, brings his voice to mind. ‘“This will all end in tears.”’
Seb smiles a little. ‘He always had the measure of me.’
‘All that time,’ Maisie says. ‘I’ve earned the right to speak my mind.’ She takes a careful breath. ‘Nimesh was mine. Yes, you knew him longer, and you loved him deeply. So he was yours, too. But he was mainly mine. And I’ll never get him back.’ She grasps her voice and steadies it. ‘Nothing will ever be worse than losing him. But what comes quite close is knowing that the pair of you have the same thing we had, and watching you throw it all away.’ A pause. ‘Not even the same thing. A bigger thing. Everyone wants the love you two have. The kind of love you see in movies.’ Maisie shakes her head. ‘Our love was quiet. Yours is too loud to ignore. She’s right there, and you’re right here, and it’s like the world is screaming at you and you can’t hear it. Or, worse, you choose to ignore it.’
