I can feel Luke behind me, his eyes drilling straight into the back of my skull as if he’s looking for the version of me I haven’t been in a long time.
The shutter clicks, capturing the moment.
My smile is frozen, my spine stiff.Regret is brewing.
Welcome to the baby shower.Where everything’s sweet on the outside – and rotting underneath.
After the group photo, lunch is served on a long, sun-drenched line of buffet tables and picnic plates full of glazed ham, charred beef and salads garnished with sprigs of herbs.Of course, I end up in the queue right next to Luke.We say nothing at first.Just two emotionally repressed adults scooping potato salad onto their plates and pretending the past hour hasn’t been one long, painful dance of avoidance.The clink of tongs.The scrape of serving spoons.The awkward silence as I slide some ham onto my plate.Luke grabs a slice too but doesn’t look at me.Doesn’t blink.And despite every single neuron in my brain telling me to shut up, my mouth opens.
‘So, I guess you and Lauren are back on.’
‘Why would you care?’
I scoff.‘I don’t.’
‘Good.’
‘Great.’
We reach the end of the line and pass each other a fork as if it’s a truce treaty.Then Dylan materialises beside me and eyes my plate.‘I thought you were vegetarian?’
Shit.
‘I am,’ I say too fast.‘This is for Ella.’
Luke raises an eyebrow.It’s the most expressive I’ve seen his face all day.This is it.His chance to blow my whole façade to hell.But he doesn’t say anything.He just turns away and walks over to another group.
‘Okay, well … I’ll grab you a plate then,’ Dylan says, already heading back towards the start of the line.
I exhale in relief and hand the offending ham plate to Ella, who gives it a confused look.‘For you, milady.’
‘What’s this?’
‘Don’t ask.’
She shrugs and accepts it, too pregnant and too gracious to push.
I take my seat on a warm sandstone bench beside Dylan, nibbling the sad pile of lettuce leaves I’ve committed to for optics, while trying very hard not to look across the lawn.
But of course I do.
Luke’s sitting on another bench with Lauren.Close.She’s laughing – hard.Her stupid curls bounce in the breeze, along with her stupid laugh, her stupidly cute dress and her stupid—
‘Earth to Jamie?’
I blink and find Dylan watching me with mild concern and a whole lot ofYou’re being weird.
‘What?’
He smiles gently.‘I was saying we should go to that logging protest in Hyde Park next week.’
‘Yeah,’ I say, my eyes drifting back to Luke.‘We should.’
By nightfall, I’m starving.Salad and fruit only go so far when you’re rage-dieting for a boyfriend who thinks cow burps are a hate crime.
Across the lawn, Luke is laughing at something Lauren said, head tilted, grin easy.She touches his arm, and he doesn’t move away.I can’t hear what they’re saying, but the body language is clear: flirty, casual, familiar.
I’ve caught him glancing my way a few times – long enough for him to clock that I’m watching them.And maybe that’s the point.Maybe this is his low-key attempt at making me jealous.Which, annoyingly, is working.
