Page 134 of The Life-Changing Magic of Falling in Love

‘You wouldn’t really have had that as your bridesmaid colour if she was still here.’

‘You would have been sent to talk me out of it.’ She indicates the collage. ‘And I love this.’

‘Um, I didn’t actually intend to give that to you.’

‘What? Why not? It’s perfect.’

‘George mistook it for your gift when he was loading the car, and so I was surprised when he handed it to you and well,’ I remember to breathe, ‘I’m so happy you love it.’

‘Speaking of George… Of course, I’m officially an old married lady but I got eyes in my head don’t I and someone has to acknowledge it – George is hot!’

I can’t help myself. I look over to where he is standing at the bar with Rob. ‘Yep.’

Jasmine puts the collage down and folds her arms. When I don’t say anything else she stares like my simple acknowledgement doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of the topic, so I grin and say, ‘So is Rob.’

‘Right?’ Thankfully she takes the opening and runs with it. ‘From the moment we met it’s like we’ve known each other all our lives. I’m the one who proposed, did anyone tell you? Rob tried slowing the pace when we got into “serious” territory but all I could think was that saying, you know, about tomorrows and promises?’

‘Tomorrow is promised to no one?’ I whisper.

‘Yeah. It was probably because of Sarah but I had no question marks at all about him.’ She leans in to confide, ‘I think she sent him to me.’

I blink. Well, why the hell didn’t I think of asking her to send me someone? Probably because what I was really looking for was some friends! I think about Carlos and Oz and George and Mrs. Lundy and everyone at Sparkle and Nadine from the hospital – even Zach there for a while. My small but amazing community that means I’m no longer sleepless in the city that never sleeps.

‘For sure if it was the other way around,’ Jasmine says, ‘and within my power, I’d have found someone to send to her.’

‘Billy Jenkins maybe?’

‘Oh, god, no. Look, this is what he’s into now…’ She pulls her phone from her wedding gown pocket and brings up his socials.

I stare at the photos and then look up at her in stunned horror. ‘You have to prepare a girl for seeing that!’ The two of us stare for a second or two longer at the clown shoes and then look at each other and burst into laughter.

‘Sarah could never have been with a clown,’ Jasmine asserts, then, sobering, she sighs out, ‘She’d never really talk about dates she went on in Brooklyn. Always kept her cards so close to her chest, you know?’

‘She went on a few,’ I confess, realising there must be things her sister didn’t know but would like to. Good things. Simple things. Things I could share. ‘I’ll have to tell you about some of them someday.’

‘Yes please. I’m glad she went on dates. Had fun. Was with you.’

I stare at the floor before forcing out, ‘I’ve sort of been feeling like I robbed you all of time with her.’

‘Ash!’ Jasmine reaches out to clasp my hand in shock. ‘Never think that. Ever. It would have been so much harder on us if Sarah had been living a plane ride away from us all. The thought of never having got to the hospital in time or thinking of her isolated somewhere – in her first proper job but living on her own, all alone?’ She shakes her head as if even the thought is unendurable. ‘Instead, in what turned out to be her last year she was sharing an apartment with you – her best friend in the whole world.’

I don’t know how to respond. I’m not sure I’d ever considered there could be an “at least” from their perspective that they could take comfort in. It’s going to take me a moment to process. Sort of feels as if shredded wires are getting re-sheathed and redirected to a different terminal in my brain. I reach out to accept the tissue she’s holding out to me. ‘No, you’re crying,’ I say.

She laughs and sniffs. ‘We’ll meet for coffee and talk about her, yes?’

‘I’d really love that,’ I admit.

As we both mop our faces and hug, I sense George and look up to find him watching me intently.

* * *

Is it wrong I’m thinking of paying the DJ to play slow songs all night?

It’s because being in George’s arms makes me feel startlingly alive.

All womanly.

Which is because, pressed up all against me, George feels amazingly tantalizing.

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