She sent a quick reply to reassure her:
You and me are. But I think I might have exploded the rest of my life. Sleep well and don’t worry xx
At that moment Naomi came back into the bedroom in her dressing gown. “Shower’s free.” She paused and started laughing. “No offence but you look terrible.”
Amy groaned. “I feel it.”
“I’ll make you another tea while you’re in there. And Amy, seriously, no rush, my house is your house, stay as long as you need today. And if you need the empty room upstairs until you go to LA it’s yours. Or after. I mean it.”
Amy smiled weakly. “You’re too good to me.”
“Me and Lara are here for you. Anything you need.”
***
The shower had been magical, that and the cup of tea afterwards… whichever fool claimed that the second cup is never as good at the first clearly hadn’t spent a night getting hammered on cocktails and shots first.
Amy knew that she should probably have spent the shower having deep thoughts about her relationships and what was going on but, frankly, she’d been too busy trying not to vomit and trying to ignore the thumping of her headache to form coherent thoughts.
She felt relatively composed now, though, and able to at least string a couple of thoughts together. Enough to be able to call James.
Naomi made herself scarce and Amy sat there, her finger hovering over his name for a long, long moment before she pressed dial.
He answered on the second ring. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she replied, trying to keep her voice friendly and open. “How are you doing?”
“Honestly? I’ve been better.” There was a pause, then he added, “You?”
“Same. Did you go out last night?”
“Yeah.” A slight chuckle down the line. “I’ve definitely felt better.”
“Tell me about it… I ended up drinking tequila.”
“Ouch.”
They were silence for a few moments. “So we should talk properly. Face-to-face, but maybe not at the flat,” she said. “It’s too… I don’t know, too much.”
“I know what you mean. Where were you thinking?”
“The Falcon? We can talk without feeling like we’re being overheard.”
The Falcon was their local pub, a five-minute walk from the flat. They’d spent countless Sunday afternoons there over the years, nursing pints and simply enjoying the end of their weekends. It felt like the right place for this conversation: familiar but not too intimate.
“What time?” James asked.
Amy glanced at the clock on Naomi’s wall. It was late morning now. “Three? Is that long enough to… God, I don’t know, prepare?”
“Three works. I’ll see you there.”
“James?” Amy said quickly, before he could hang up.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For being so understanding yesterday. I know it must have been a huge shock.”
There was a long pause before he responded, and when he did his voice had lost the relaxed tone. “It was… I mean it is. But… Jesus, Amy, we’ve been together for years. I care about you, even if… if what you told me yesterday is true, well…” He trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.
