Page 67 of The Wedding Game

And then I’m serious. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to England?’

‘We’re not in England,’ he replies. ‘We’re in Scotland.’

‘You know what I mean. Why didn’t you say?’

He shrugs, thinks. ‘I don’t know how to say this, so … please don’t be offended, but you’re not on my speed-dial for when I come home.’

I wasn’t expecting those words to come out of Chris’s mouth. Neither was I expecting them to hurt so much. Why’s he being so snarky?

‘Shit, OK,’ I reply and sip my drink.

‘Sorry,’ he says and looks as if he genuinely means it. ‘I’m just telling it how it is.’

I don’t know how to respond to this, so I don’t say anything for a moment. I can see him clawing around for a follow-up, but I beat him to it. ‘I obviously thought we might be …’

Chris furrows his brow, watching me, waiting for me to say something.

‘I thought since that night in New York we were …’

‘What?’ he asks, his eyes penetrating mine.

‘I thought we were better than this. I thought we were friends and that if you were in my city, the way I was in yours, you’d at least tell me. But I’m wrong. I’m sorry I overthought it. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel weird.’ I look away, genuinely saddened. I can feel the telltale sting of tears building in the back of my eyes.

‘I’m not in your city, though. I’m in Edinburgh, and I didn’t know you were going to be here. Wearefriends, I guess. Who don’t see each other. Or talk to each other outside work. I don’t have much time in the UK, and I’m in Scotland for a large portion of it. I’m only in London for a day and a half and I’ve got to fit in seeing my brother, my mum and dad before I get on a plane back to New York.’

‘I get it,’ I respond. I feel as if I’ve been told off. ‘Ignore me.’

‘I’m not going to ignore you,’ Chris says. ‘Would you have wanted to see me if I’d messaged you?’

‘Yeah,’ I say.

‘Why?’ he asks.

I want to scream. I can’t keep saying the same thing over and over.

‘You’re with someone, and so am I. We have to stop this,’ he says.

‘Why?’ I snap.

‘Are you joking? We talked about so many things we shouldn’t have done last time we saw each other. We have nearly-got-together-history.’

‘We have what?’

‘You heard me,’ Chris says. ‘We probably shouldn’t have hung out in New York. I didn’t think it was a good idea then. I don’t know why I suggested it.’ He makes a noise between his teeth.

I glance at my watch. I want to leave.

‘It’s been more than seventeen minutes, if you were thinking of proposing,’ he says flatly.

But I don’t laugh. I don’t even smile. Neither does Chris.

‘So we really can’t be friends, because of that one night.’

‘It wasn’t just that one night, though, was it?’ he persists. ‘It was everything after too. I felt so much, and I couldn’t let you go. And I don’t think you could let me go, either. We messaged back and forth for ages and it was flirty. I loved it. I loved spending time with you that night, and I loved talking to you after. I couldn’t wait for a message from you to arrive. All that Big Talk. We have such a connection. The kind I’ve never had with anyone. Then you got with someone else and friend-zoned me. Butyoudid that. Not me. I’m merely carrying on what you started.’

‘You’ve levelled up, though, with this horrible attitude. Is that how it has to be? Would you like to level up even further? Would you like us to block each other?’

‘Don’t be ridic—’ he starts.

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