Page 45 of Love at First Sight

He deposits our drinks on the coffee table, and I reach for the water to gulp it down greedily. He looks at me, amused. ‘Top-up?’

I hand him back my empty glass.

‘Please.’

He pours me another and then takes the opposite end of the sofa, making a show of getting settled.

‘This is like sitting on an actual cloud,’ he says, looking at me.

‘Yup,’ I say. ‘This will undoubtedly ruin all other sofas for you, sad to say.’

‘No shit.’

He tips his head, then, half a smile playing on his lips. I mirror him, not smiling quite wide enough to reveal my teeth.

‘You don’t have to talk about it,’ he says. ‘But if you did …’

I look to the window.

‘Just … life,’ I say, evasively. He waits for me to continue. ‘My dad …’

And then it all comes out, because trying to explain it to somebody who knows none of it helps, somehow. Like how I try to encourage Henry to name the feeling, telling Cal is like following the clues until I can name my own feeling.

‘Dad basically raised me alone,’ I say. ‘Mum was un-interested in me growing up, and bolted as soon as she could. And when he got sick, it was so awful. Like, terrifying. I could barely function I was so worried. And that’s when Craig, my ex, left … he just couldn’t handle it, said I’d changed. But obviously I’d changed! You can’t have your father go through brain surgery without it changing you, Jesus!’

Cal nods, likeduh.

‘But good riddance, you know? Trash can take itself out. And Dad got stronger, healthier, was maybe even more full of life than before. I suppose he’d seen over the cliff edge, you know? Faced his own mortality or whatever,and so since then he’s gone for it, really embraced life. It’s had this rubbing-off effect on me, too. I’m trying new things, getting involved in different activities. It was after everything had happened with Dad that I started to develop the idea for Stray Kids, which …’

God, I can’t bad-mouth Ali to him, can’t say she’s unhappy with me. That isn’t fair.

‘Well, it’s not all as straightforward as I thought it might be.’

Before Cal can ask any questions about that, I press on.

‘I was so excited when Dad met someone. He’d dated, I knew that, and let’s be honest nobody really wants to know about their parents’ sex lives, even if they are close. But I got the gist of it, if he was excited by someone or if something didn’t work out, that sort of thing. And then he met Simone, and right from the off he was totally smitten, head over heels. It was so sweet. But after a while, he would cancel plans to see me at the last minute, and he started to be evasive about setting another date. Fair play, I guess I’m sensitive to rejection so I try to keep that in check, but … your own dad, not even swinging by for a cup of tea any more? It just didn’t seem right. Anyway. I finally met Simone, by accident, when I went over to his – unannounced, like I’ve always done. And Cal, she was horrible. I can’t properly explain it, aside from she made me feel so unwelcome in Dad’s house that in the end I didn’t even stay for the cup of tea he’d offered – half-heartedly, by the way. And it’s been that way for almost a year, and now …’

I can’t even say this next bit. It makes me feel like I could throw up.

‘He rang. No. I rang him. I rang him and he said not to come to the wedding. That I’ll spoil it.’

‘Sorry, what?’ Cal says. ‘He disinvited you?’

‘Yeah.’

‘But … what kind of woman would marry a man willing to disinvite his daughter to the wedding?’

‘Simone.’ I shrug. ‘The only thing I can think is that with Dad being older – because she’s my age, I forgot to mention that bit, I know, it’s gross – but I think she sees him as some sort of meal ticket. Maybe I get in the way of that? She doesn’t even know me but she doesnotlike me. And now she’s convinced Dad I’m the problem, and honestly, my heart is breaking …’

I well up, voice cracking. I don’t want to cry again though, so I take some big breaths to demonstrate as much to Cal. He reaches across the sofa and puts a hand on my knee.

‘You deserve to be treated better,’ he tells me, forcing eye contact with the seriousness with which he delivers his words. He holds my gaze, and I get that it’s so stupid to be allwe spoke without saying a word, but truly, the way he looks at me tells me so much.

And then he farts.

A high-pitched, long and loudmmmmmppppphhhhhemanates from him as his meaningful stare becomes a cheeky smile, and once he’s done, he says simply, ‘Sorry to ruin the moment.’

‘I can’t believe you just did that!’ I squeal, picking up a cushion to lob at him. ‘Oh my god!’

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