Page 72 of Shout Out To My Ex

‘I know,’ I reply, picking up my phone. ‘I really am ordering lunch.’ I open the delivery app and start scrolling. ‘So, Thai, Indian, Persian, Ethiopian… We’re in thebestpart of London. Spoilt for choice.’

When I look up, he’s watching me. ‘What? None of those take your fancy?’

‘It’s not that.’ His eyes bore into mine and the mood between us shifts.

‘Oh. Then what?’ I ask in a hushed tone.

‘It’s just… Never mind.’

I inch forward, as if I’m being lured by a giant magnet. ‘Tell me.’

‘Just…’ He breaks eye contact, his gaze dropping to my mouth, and I swallow –hard. ‘It used to be like this, remember?’he says, meeting my eye with slight smile. ‘We’d be working on our assignments, in the design studio till all hours, sparking off each and?—’

Something inside me clicks and I emerge from the nostalgic fugue.

‘Until you left.’

‘What?’

The rage bubbles up so quickly and completely, it consumes me. I glare at him, my hands in fists.

‘Not so much sparking after you gave me a day’s notice, then left the country, never to be heard from again.’

‘Wow, okay, so… I guess deserve that.’

‘Youguess?’ I spit, my nails digging into my palms. ‘You completely ignored every attempt I made to contact you. How could you do that?’

His eyes fall away and his jaw clenches.

‘How did weeverthink this would work, collaborating on a collection?’ I start to pace. ‘I mean, what were we thinking? What wereyouthinking? Were you ever going to explain why you broke off all contact after you left London? Were you ever going toapologise? Or did you think we’d just work side by side, merrily going along and ignoring the GIANT FUCKING ELEPHANT in the room?’

I stop pacing and glare at him. ‘Well?’

He takes a deep breath then looks up to meet my eye. ‘You’re right – about all of it. I do owe you an explanation –andan apology – but I’ve been too…’

He pauses, as if searching for the right word.

‘…cowardly,’ he says eventually. ‘I was worried that if I said anything, it would dredge up all these awful feelings and you wouldn’t want to work with me – or evenseeme. I completely fucked that up – I get that now.’

His contrition activates an emotional pressure valve. Even without an apology, without an explanation, the tight coil of fury inside me starts to unwind.

‘AndI was right,’ he jokes feebly. When I don’t respond, he inches forward, his expression softening. ‘Iamsorry, Elle – about all of it. You have no idea how many times I wanted to contact you over the years.’

‘Then why didn’t you?’ I ask, hating how small and sad my voice sounds.

‘Because I worried that I’d left it too late, that you wouldn’t want to talk?—’

A blaring ringtone cuts him off. ‘Sorry, just a sec.’ He retrieves his phone from his jeans pocket and, without thinking, my eyes flick to the screen. Franzia. Oh my god. A wave of nausea overcomes me and I suck in air to stave it off.

‘Fuck,’ he says to himself. He looks up. ‘Sorry, it’s Franzia. I completely forgot we were supposed to talk this afternoon. Time must have gotten away from me.’

‘Are you going to answer?’ I ask, still woozy.

‘Uh, I’ll call her back.’ He starts gathering sketches and shoving them into his satchel.

‘Leo—’

‘Sorry, Elle – I promise we’ll circle back to… well, all this, but I need to go.’ He shoots me a hollow smile. ‘But a great start, hey?’

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