Page 61 of Still Falling for You

I shake it off. ‘I’m OK. I’m done with him. For real this time. He enjoys keeping me hanging, and I’m done being his entertainment, his backup plan or whatever I’ve been to him. No more Alex and Holly. Holly and Alex.’

Catherine looks at me like I’m a simpleton.

‘Don’t give me that look,’ I warn her and grab a cushion of my own for emotional support. My fingers frantically start plucking at the silk tassels sewn to the corners like I’m a harpist performing at a speed metal concert.

‘It just doesn’t add up,’ Catherine mumbles.

‘I agree for once.’ Lydia pushes off the sofa and brings the last bag of crisps from the counter to the table. When she sits, she frowns. ‘I definitely don’t think he’s notnotinterested in you if you know what I mean. A person who’s gotten over you doesn’t look at you the way he did at the Thai restaurant. That boy was trying to pretend to keep it cool while he had the hots for you.’

I’m waiting for Catherine to argue and talk about dignity and breaking one’s trust, but instead, she shrugs. ‘I don’t think that everything is as black and white as we think.’ Her tone is almost apologetic. Her eyes flash towards Lydia, and then she starts biting her nails. What’s going on here?

‘What are you trying to say? That Vicky lied? Or that nothing happened, and I just misunderstood?’ My voice rises, and I have to temper it to keep it from rising again. When loose threads start to come out of the tassel between my fingers, I still them. ‘I found her on top of him. He didn’t look like he minded it.’

‘And the first person he calls after his supposed tryst is you. That’s weird.’ Lydia tries to apply logic to something that doesn’t have any. ‘Do people still use the wordtryst?’ She ponders out loud.

‘Guilty conscience? Or it gives him a kick to play around with people’s feelings, making me sound like the villain here,’ I offer and start systematically taking apart another tassel. I will have to buy Lydia a new cushion after this conversation is done if we carry on in the same vein.

‘You already split up with him. There was no need for a guilty conscience, and I don’t agree he was a player. There’s noevidence apart from what Vicky is saying,’ Catherine reminds me gently. ‘Also…’ She averts her eyes like she wants to avoid eye contact. ‘He sounded sort of hurt when he hurled all those accusations your way. Take it from his perspective, he’s been labouring under the delusion that you broke up with him ten years ago because you got bored, and then you made up with someone less than twenty-four hours after.’ Her face is flushed, and she’s still refusing to look at me.

‘I don’t know why he did what he did, and it doesn’t matter because it was ten years ago. Ever since he showed up back in my life, he’s made things nothing but complicated. He’s been kind and understanding, and yes, even friendly at times, but that doesn’t even out the times he’s been outright hostile, scornful, unfair and hurtful. I can’t keep up with his hot and cold ways. It hurts too much,’ I growl desperately. ‘Why are you both standing up for him?’ I’m not angry, I just feel defeated. They look at each other with a strange expression.

‘What’s going on?’ Standing up, I leave the almost tassel-less cushion on the sofa.

‘You know I love you, and I would never hurt you,’ Lydia starts carefully. Whatever this is, it’s nothing good.

The lounge is so tense I could cut the air with a knife. I jerk when Catherine’s phone starts buzzing. She plucks it from among the cushions and apologetically mumbles, ‘It’s Richard,’ before she picks up and walks in the direction of Lydia’s bedroom.

The lounge is silent.

‘There’s something I need to speak to you about. I’ve wanted to bring it up before, but I’ve never found the right time.’ Lydia rubs her hands together, and her face turns pink. She’s obviously distressed over something to do with me.

‘You can tell me anything.’ I try to sound reassuring, but uncertainty creeps into my voice, nevertheless.

The doorbell buzzes and cleaves the tense atmosphere.

‘Have we ordered any more pizza?’ Lydia wonders out loud but strides towards the door. She sounds almost relieved to abandon our unfinished conversation.

When she opens the front door, she sounds surprised and apologetic. I conclude she knows whoever is on the other side of the door. It doesn’t take me long to recognise the other person. I march stiffly to the door, thinking this day cannot get any more confusing.

‘I’m sorry I haven’t checked my messages. Is now not a good time? Should I leave?’ Jane is looking genuinely perplexed. Her hair gleams under the artificial light of the hallway, a few purplish strands I’ve never noticed standing out in her otherwise dark hair. She is as smart as ever despite wearing a pair of black jeans and a burgundy pullover. When she spots me over Lydia’s shoulder, she flinches imperceptibly. It takes her only a second to assess my outfit and messy hair to read the situation.

I connect the dots surprisingly quickly too. Now it makes perfect sense why Lydia was so nervous; she was worried about my reaction. Guilt squeezes my chest, and for a moment, I struggle to breathe.

‘Do you want to come in?’ Lydia invites Jane in.

Silent communication passes between them, but I avert my eyes before I can decipher it, feeling embarrassed. When I look back, Jane is still hesitant, which is unusual for her. With the same level of certainty that I know Taylor Swift is the best country and folk singer of this century, I know that Alex has spoken to her.

‘Please.’ Lydia’s voice comes out sort of desperate. My eyes flash to her in surprise. Probably as shocked as me, Jane nods and comes in. She places her shoes in the cleverly hidden shoe cupboard which straight away confirms she’s been here before.

Catherine walks out of Lydia’s bedroom with the phone in her hand. She blinks a few times at the sight of Jane. ‘Hi,’ she says slowly, unsure of the atmosphere. She turns to me. ‘Holly,I’m sorry. I’ll have to shoot off. Gabby fell and scratched her knee. She’s inconsolable.’

‘That’s alright,’ I say numbly. I think I’m shell-shocked.

Catherine quickly hugs me and Lydia, eyeing Jane as she goes. Then the three of us are alone.

Lydia excuses herself to make us fresh coffee, so I end up sitting with Jane on the sofa.

‘How’s your dad?’ Jane starts, offering an olive branch of sorts even though she’s not the one who’s at odds with me. If this didn’t confirm that Jane was a decent person, her deciding to date Lydia would.

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