Page 82 of Enemies to Lovers

‘Not the actions of a man who leaves notes and runs away,’ she points out.

‘Well, he did,’ I counter. ‘He left a note, ran away and then hit on me again. And instead of letting my heart get broken once more, I let him in, by drawing very firm boundaries that I thought you – of all people – would appreciate. It was just sex. I have donenothingwrong,’ I say. I’m shouting, and people are looking, but I can’t stand what she’s insinuating. ‘He’s a big boy. Nobody had a gun to his head.’

Kate sighs. We sit there, words exchanged, angry, and neither one of us wanting to speak first. Finally Kate says, ‘You’re right. Nobody had a gun to Jamie’s head thatmadehim sleep with you. But if you think he could be in love with you like he is – as he has been for years – and could turn down the chance to be with you, even for only a few days, you’re delusional. That’s not how love works. You knew he loved you, and you took advantage of it,’ she goes on, and I feel like I’ve beenpunched in the gut, her words are landing with such force.

I shake my head, willing the tears away. He doesn’tloveme. No way.

‘Babe,’ she says, reaching out a hand to my arm. ‘The good news is, you can fix this. You need to find him and tell him how you really feel.’

I look at her, and when I blink, it forces a tear to roll down my face. I push it away, devastated that I’ve behaved this way.

‘I don’t know what to do …’ I tell her, my voice breaking.

‘You do,’ she reassures me. ‘I promise you. You do.’

Kate and I leave the market in silence, barely speaking a word as we navigate the bus system to get down to the harbour, where we’re meeting my family for lunch. I don’t feel like eating or being social, because Kate’s accusations are rattling around my head like loose change.

Do I like Jamie? Want-to-make-it-work LIKE Jamie?

My head is swimming.

All I know for sure is that I will pull Jamie away from the group before we eat and apologise, straight up, like a grown-up. I’ll start there. Clear the air. I will own my responsibility and say I will smooth things over with everyone, even though it’s only Laurie who really cares. I’ll promise Jamie he still has us.

‘Oh,’ I say as we approach, because it is immediatelyapparent Jamie isn’t there. It’s a beautiful white wooden building over the marina, built on stilts, so it looks like our table is hanging out over the water. Kate must know what I mean because she touches my arm and tells me, ‘He’ll be giving Laurie his space, that’s all. I’ll make sure they sort it out.’

I think the reason I’ve been so quiet is because I know Kate sees things clearly. So she’s held up a mirror to my own actions; but also, when she says she’ll help Laurie and Jamie, I know she means it, and I know she’ll be successful. That makes me breathe at least a little bit deeper.

‘Thank you,’ I reply with a grateful smile. ‘And thanks for giving me the hard truths, too.’

She knocks her shoulder into mine. ‘Sure thing,’ she says, ‘Auntie Flo.’

As soon as she calls me that, we both turn and stare at each other in horror. ‘Aunt Flo!’ I squeal. ‘No! That can’t be my name. I can’t be synonymous with having your period.’

Kate shakes her head. ‘It’s hilarious we didn’t think of that. Oh my gosh! We’ll have to drop the “Aunt” bit, or else call you “Auntie Florence”?’

‘That makes me sound ninety years old,’ I say, as we weave through the other diners to our table right at the far edge. ‘We’ll need to workshop it.’

‘Workshop what, darling?’ Mum asks, craning her neck to signal she’d like a kiss on the cheek. I oblige, and then give one to Dad for good measure.

Kate kisses Laurie and takes a seat next to him, leaving me to sit opposite, where I clock the edges of a bruise spilling out from under his sunglasses. I hadn’t realised Jamie had landed a punch. It serves Laurie right. Alex watches me assess Laurie, who studiously avoids my gaze. If he’s embarrassed, then I am pleased. I want an apology from him for acting like the viscount fromBridgerton, as if my marital prospects are his concern, and his concern alone. But god, if I have to explain to himwhyI want an apology, I’ll scream. If he doesn’t get that by now, he’s more of an idiot than I thought.

Luckily for Laurie, he seems contrite, so I shall bide my time and let him come to me. Though if anyone gets through this lunch without bringing Jamie up, I’ll eat my napkin in shock. He’s the elephant in the room. If he’s skipped lunch to give us space, his absence actually means we feel hislackof presence even more.

We order lunch, because that’s what the Greenbergs do best, going back and forth withif Alex gets this, then I’ll get that, andif we order extra for the table, we can always take it home. All the guys order beer, and Mum and I split a bottle of wine, with Kate taking a small splash in the bottom of her glass, just to be sociable. The wine goes down effortlessly, and quickly, doing exactly what I need it to: un-know the tension in my jaw and melt away the incessant chatter of my brain that otherwise would goJamieJamieJamieJamieJamie.

‘I’m so pleased we did this,’ Mum says, raising a glass to toast. She looks around the table at each of us,giving a nod of appreciation. ‘I’m so pleased you all came. I love you all, so very much.’ Uncharacteristically, her voice swells with emotion, and I can see her eyes threaten to overrun with tears.

‘Mum!’ Alex exclaims, sounding as unnerved as I feel. ‘It’s a happy thing we’re all together. Don’t cry. Christ!’

She waves a hand, then uses the corner of her starched white napkin to dab at her eyes.

‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘I don’t know why I feel like this. I’ve been a bit wobbly the whole time we’ve been here, to be honest. It’s just nice, isn’t it? I never want to take it for granted.’

Dad puts an arm around her. ‘It is lovely,’ he tells her. ‘You’re absolutely right.’

Nobody really knows what to say after that: yes, it’s been a lovely holiday; yes, one of us is missing; no, nobody is going to bring up the fire or the big reveal or the fist-fight or the delicate feelings of the morning-after-the-night-before. So instead Kate says how delicious the wine is; and I say I don’t normally go in for something so fruity, but I quite like this; and Alex says, ‘Oh, go on then, let me try some’ and sloshes a bit into his water glass before agreeing that yes, it’s unusual, but it’s the perfect pairing with the seafood. We cheers again, to family and good health, and on it goes – everyone except Laurie being peppy and chatty and a-little-too-bright.

‘You’re not saying much,’ I finally accuse him, halfway through our main courses. He doesn’t look up, butfreezes, his knife and fork held aloft. He was obviously hoping to fly under the radar all afternoon.

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