“Just looking through messages from last night while my phone was off. I think I worried a few people.” I chew on my lip as I re-read Connor’s messages.
“Can I see?” Rhys asks, sitting on the sofa next to me. He throws an arm behind me and takes my phone before I have chance to say yes.
His brows knit together as he reads, sighs and hands back my phone. “Sounds like he’s pissed off, to be honest, Mat,” he says eventually.
“Do you think so?” Guilt, anxiety and the remnants of last night’s drinks churn in my stomach. Connor has been such a good friend to me lately, I would hate for him to be angry with me.
“Sorry, Muffin.” He pulls me towards him and squeezes my shoulders. “Look, do you want me to be honest?”
“Yes,” I say into the hoodie he’s thrown on, though I’m not sure I do.
“I think you moved in with him when you were vulnerable, and now he feels responsible for you. It must have been a huge burden for him to have you there, but he’s a good guy, so I bet he never said anything.”
Oh my God, he’s right. I turned up at Connor’s house one day and turned everything upside down by crying at him, drawing him into my drama and forcing him to look after me.
“I’m such a horrible, selfish person,” I mumble through freshtears. Honestly, I don’t understand how I haven’t dehydrated by now with all this crying.
“No!” Rhys insists, squeezing me tighter. “You’re not selfish at all. You were hurting, I hurt you, so you haven’t been thinking straight. And now we’ve been brought back together, I’m here to help you, so you can let him get on with his life again.”
His words make sense. So why does it hurt to hear it?
“Like I said, he’s a good guy, so he’ll probably tell you he doesn’t mind. Might be best to have a clean break, you know?”
“What do you mean?”
“I just think we’ll all be able to move on with our lives better if the two of you cut contact. A fresh start for us, and he can go back to the life he put on hold for the last few weeks.”
Not see Connor again? I don’t know if I could bear it. He’s become such a big part of my life, I can’t picture a future where he’s not some part of it.
That’s exactly what a selfish person would say. He probably can’t wait to be rid of you, so just get it over with.
As if he read my mind, Rhys says, “I’ll wait with you while you call, for moral support. Then I’ll get the kettle on.”
Fighting back yet another sob, I find Connor’s name in my phone and press call. After only two rings, Connor’s tired voice answers.
“Tilly!”
“Hi. I’m so sorry.”For not calling. For being a burden.
“Are you okay? Where are you?” His voice is croaky, and he sounds exhausted.
Rhys reaches over and presses the speakerphone option so he can hear both sides of the conversation, so I lower the phone to my lap.
“I’m fine,” I force out. “Everything’s fine. I’m sorry I didn’t call – I lost my phone, and I didn’t know anyone’s number,because who memorises people’s phone numbers these days?”Oh shit. I’m rambling now.
“Where are you?” His deep voice is firm with what I assume is frustration and anger.
“I’m safe, honestly.” I gulp. “I’m at Rhys’s.”
Silence.
“You’re at Rhys’s?” he asks disbelievingly. “Willingly?”
“Yes, willingly.”
“I’m coming to see you. I need to know you’re really okay.” I hear the rustle of clothing and jingling of keys in the background. Rhys puts a hand on my leg, drawing my attention to him. He gives me a tight smile and a small nod of encouragement.
“No, you don’t need to come. I’m fine.” I try to sound confident so he’ll believe me, but I’m not sure if I’m coming across that way.
