Page 20 of Something Borrowed

He laughs, his expression clearing, and the relief on his face makes me feel a bit sick. “Are we talking hugging or shagging?”

“I do know the difference,” I say, keeping my light tone. “I’d get into enormous trouble if I didn’t. I’d be constantly pursued by a legion of bridegrooms with shotguns.” I jump down from the counter.

“Where are you going?”

The worry is back in his voice, and I squeeze his shoulder as impersonally as I can. “For a quick shower. I want to wash this day off me.”

“Is there enough soap in the world for that?”

“Probably not.”

He grins. “Well, you can tell me about it over dinner. Ten minutes?”

I nod. “Perfect. I’m starving.”

In the shower, I lean against the tiled wall, feeling the steam fill my lungs. I take a deep breath and then another, feeling my heart rate settle. By the time I come out, I’m Rafferty once more—light and easy.

When I come into the lounge dressed in sweatpants and an old jumper of Stan’s, he’s waiting on the sofa. Hump is lying on his back, displaying the goods like the jezebel he is. Sleeper’s “What Do I Do Now” plays on the stereo, and two plates piled high with food are waiting on the coffee table.

“God, I think I could eat that in ten seconds,” I say.

He cocks his head, listening to my approach, and smiles as I settle down next to him. His thigh is against mine, his earlier reservations seemingly gone, and I relish his warmth as we eat and catch each other up on our day.

I savour the sound of his laugh and ham up the day’s disasters to chase out more. I’m addicted to his smiles and laughter. I smile at him. This feels more like us. The feeling abruptly vanishes as Stan’s phone rings.

“Who is it?” I ask before the phone tells me.

“Bennett calling,” it intones in its robotic tone.

I roll my eyes as he answers it.Great,I mouth.

I push the food around on my plate, my earlier hunger vanishing as I listen to his chuckle.

That laugh belongs to me, I think sourly.

I’m not surprised when he turns to me almost apologetically. “Bennett is home from Zurich. Do you mind if I go over to his place?”

My heart sinks.Not tonight, when I have you to myself.

I realise the silence has stretched too long, and his brow is furrowed.

“No,” I say quickly, making my voice light and happy. “Of course not.”

“You sure?” he checks.

I’m almost positive he’d say no to Bennett in a minute if I asked him to stay with me, but it’s thealmostpart—that slight hesitation now—that makes me saddest because I used to know the fact with absolute solid conviction.

“Positive,” I say hollowly.

He grins at me and jumps up from the sofa. My leg feels cold without his against mine.

I listen to him grabbing his stuff. He whistles for Hump, who gives me a startled look as if to say, “Aren’t we supposed to be home now?”

I shrug. I can’t help him. Lately, Stan’s exits seem more like strategic withdrawals. Six months ago, I’d have known what was up. I’d have pushed and prodded until he admitted there was something wrong. Now I can’t do that. Our careless actions have changed everything, and now my best friend—the man I used to know better than myself—is like an iceberg, cool and distant, with so much hidden below the surface. And he’s drifting away from me.

I return his cheerful goodbye and hear the door slam. The quiet of the flat settles around me like a shroud, and unable to bear it, I put my dishes in the dishwasher and head for the comfort of my bed.

The dreamalways starts the same way.

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