Page 9 of When We Were Young

CHAPTER FIVE

Emma

Oscar asks me aboutmy current life, and I try to make it sound exciting, when really it’s just pathetic. Moving across town and back into my parents’ home at twenty-eight because the landlord’s put my rent up and it’s too high. But everywhere in Rose Haven is becoming more and more expensive now, ever since those plans came through to turn the old private school into Rose Haven Hotel and Spa. The whole town decided it would become a tourist trap, and prices have gone up for the locals too. I’ve got no savings left, not after I bailed Jenna out. I spend most evenings alone, only my two goldfish for company while I read a secondhand paperback, and when I go into work, Garry just moans at me because my sales numbers on the forecourt aren’t as good as the Jerry’s and Asad’s and Peter’s. Jerry and Asad and Peter who are taken seriously by customers because they’re men.

I don’t want Oscar feeling sorry for me. Not when he’s got it all. He’s the boss of a sales company. He’s won marathons raising money for charity. He was the runner-up in a local businessman award two years ago at the age of twenty-six.

My life is dull compared to his. And maybe he’s realizing it now, realizing that he had a lucky escape.

But that’s always been my insecurity. That I’m dull, boring.

“You’re not dull, and this isn’t boring,” he says, his voice soft.

I shiver into the blanket. “But we’re not doing anything. And I’m ill.”

“But we’re still together.” He holds me tighter, his arms around me. “I don’t mind looking after you. It’s what couples do.”

Couples. I like the way he says it. I can’t help it.

I smile. “I love you.”

He smiles. He doesn’t say it back, but that’s okay. He’ll say it when he’s ready. I know that.

So we just talk instead. Talk about how much we mean to each other and plans for the future, what’s going to happen when we finish university.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Oscar’s voice breaks as he asks the question, and I jump a little.

He wants to know if I’m seeing anyone? Does that mean...

No. I can’t think like that. Can’t get my hopes up. It doesn’t mean anything.

He turns toward me. His eyes are earnest as he stares at me, awaiting my answer.

I shake my head. There’s never been anyone after him who could compare. Not really. How could Tinder dates and six-week-relationships where I didn’t really feel anything compare to what he made me feel? But how can I tell Oscar that? Of all the days and nights I’ve thought of him since? All the times I’ve wished that everything that happened was just a bad dream, a nightmare, something to wake up from?

But it wasn’t.

It was real.

And it happened again and again in my head.

I couldn’t escape it.

“It’s not working,” Oscar says.

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