Page 81 of We Used To Be Magic

‘Okay,’ I managed, but I didn’t move to leave. I just stood there, waiting for her to contradict herself. To throw her arms around my neck and apologise for the world’s worst joke.

‘Sorry,’ she said instead. ‘I’ll go.’

And I stayed and watched as she walked away and got back into the car, stoically waiting until it was out of sight until I started to cry.

Anyway.

‘It could have been worse,’ I say mildly. ‘You could have done it in the car.’

‘Please don’t,’ Edie says, her brow crumpling. ‘I know it was my decision, but that doesn’t mean you were the only one hurting.’

‘Okay, well – I forgive you, if that’s what you want to hear.’

Apparently not. Edie turns back to the pan and resumes stirring, expression taut.

‘Fine,’ she says. ‘If you want to leave it like that …’

‘I don’t know what else to say!’ I exclaim. ‘You ended it! It sucked! I was miserable!’

‘So was I!’ she says hotly. ‘And then Eleanor decided to blow up my life again and I had no one to talk to.’

‘You never talked to me about her anyway!’ I retort, incredulous. ‘And what about that group you ran around with at school? Jules and Ella and … the rest.’

‘Seriously? You can’t even remember the names of my friends?’

‘In my defence, it’s been a while.’

‘Not even six months, Ezra. Iknewyou didn’t like them.’

‘They were fine. I was just a selfish idiot who wanted you to myself.’

Edie blinks at me, her next riposte presumably dying on her lips. She’d suspected as much, I know, but I doubt she ever thought I’d admit it.

‘Well,’ she says finally. ‘I guess I wanted to talk to you. And I hated that I couldn’t.’

‘I’m here now.’

‘It’s not the same, though.’

‘No,’ I concede, thinking of everything that’s happened since. ‘Guess not.’

It might just be projection, but Edie looks slightly pained when I say that. Like she’d hoped I’d argue otherwise.

‘I think this is ready,’ she says then, still stirring. ‘Do you mind grabbing bowls? They’re above the sink.’

I do as she says, briefly imagining that I’ve been transported to an alternate reality where Edie never dumped me. This domestic scene – I’d be lying if I said I’d never pictured anythinglike it, but it all feels hollow, now. We may as well be two kids playing house.

I hand her the bowls. Edie smiles and I return it – I can offer her that much, at least.

AUDREY

ISIT ONTHE EDGEOF MYBUNK,FEET PLANTEDON THEFLOOR,Ahand pressed to my chest as I struggle to breathe. It’s like my lungs have shrunk to about half their normal size, and no matter how much air I suck in, it’s not enough. My vision is swimming – it feels a little like I might be dying, actually, and it’s with a trembling hand that I reach for my phone again. The message is still there. I’d only just woken up when I saw it – the apartment was so cold when I got back from MoMAthat I crawled into my bed to keep warm. I don’t remember drifting off, but when I came to it was dark. I grasped for my phone, disoriented, and there was the notification.

I force myself to read it again.

Hi Audrey,

My name is Demi. I’m a journalist with Soil – the link to the site is in my bio, if you’re not familiar with us. I’m reaching out because I’m currently working on a piece regarding Julian Mars, who I understand you’ve worked with recently. I’m interested in hearing your perspective. We can communicate however you feel comfortable, be it over the phone, via email or in person. I hope to hear from you soon.

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