Page 92 of I Love You, I Love You, I Love You

‘I’ll have another one,’ he says. ‘I can drink these like I’m getting drunk!’

‘Well, let me get these.’

One of the bartenders is sitting up with their bare feet out, eating crisps and playing a game on their phone.

‘Two more?’

‘Yes, please.’

The other whispers, ‘So how’s it going?’ Like it’s a first date. I look up, startled.

‘We’re not … on a date or anything … ’

‘Oh my bad. I could feel that first date vibe between you guys.’

‘No, no … ’ I laugh it off. ‘We kind of always have that.’

I look back to make sure Lowe hasn’t heard, but he’s just vaping and looking out to the river. The bartender winks.

I inhale, deeply, I’m nervous as I walk back, hoping that the spell is still alive since my departure. I’m going to ask him. I have to. I am sober. Clear-headed, full of clarity; natural confidence, healthy nerves and some wisdom of adulthood. There’s joy too – an abundance of pure joy running through my system. I know what I’m doing. I’m free and able to make choices.

‘I’m just going to ask you’ – I clear my throat, not quite as cool as I’d hoped – ‘did you ever feel anything for me back then?’

Lowe’s smile is completely wiped from his face. He sits up, seriously, like he’s been waiting for this question his whole life. I hadn’t expected this reaction from him. He goes to speak but then he can’t. ‘I … errr … ’ His teeth flash, nervously, and then he leans back in his chair. Trying to settle himself, his response, he straightens out again.

‘Yes, of course I did.’ He shakes his head, in disbelief. ‘Of course I did, Ella.’

‘You did?’

I am surprised – just like that – how simply he said it. All that build-up, volcanic intensity only to come down to simple words.

‘I think that’s my fault,’ he carries on. ‘I really kind of messed that up.’

He can see me beginning to get emotional but he doesn’t say anything; he wants to put a hand out but he doesn’t know if he should touch me or not.

‘That night, at yours, after the shower thing, I was trying to show you that I felt the same, that I loved you back … and then I felt you thought I’d overstepped the mark.’

‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

‘I was just … so badly embarrassed. And ashamed. Like I’d let you down, or like you thought I was … trying to hurt you … ? Or that you were drunk and didn’t mean what you’d said or that I’d wrecked our friendship … I just … really messed that up.’

I’m crying now.

‘This isn’t because I’m sad,’ I defend when it’s definitely because I’m sad. ‘These are tears of relief actually … because I thought I made it all up in my head.’

‘No, no, you didn’t, Ella. I hate that,’ he says with such sincerity. ‘You didn’t make it up. Any of it. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you did. It was all my fault. I’m the one who lost out.’

‘Why didn’t you … do anything – why didn’t you try to get to me?’

‘You were wearing a ring! I thought you were getting married!’

‘Before that?’

‘I gave it all to the band; my head was all over the place, I was a mess – not dealing with losing my mum, self-medicating – my confidence was so bad – I dunno, I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t. You’ve always seemed to really like yourself, Ella. I felt I didn’t deserve you.’ His voice cracks. ‘Then I met Heather and she seemed so together. I knew that – with you – it would be forever and that would be a problem because I wasn’t in that headspace.’ Forever. ‘I wasn’t ready for forever.’

What about now?

Chapter 37

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