Page 77 of Weekends with You

Oliver put his beer on the coffee table, then wiped his hands on his thighs and started to stand. “I’m not quite sure what’s just happened, but I can go if—”

“No,” I said, reaching for his hand. “You stay. He’s just got, er, some other shit going on.”

“Are you sure? I feel I might’ve done something to offend, which of course wasn’t my intention.”

“He’s been on edge with everyone lately,” Raja jumped in, always quick to save me. “It’s like all he wants to do is leave London, but then any time we bring up that he’s leaving London, he gets upset. He was in a bit of a mood before you got here, so I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“Well, I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. I’m not here to disturb the peace, just to get to know you lot.”

“You aren’t disturbing any peace,” I said. “Ignore him. Please.” My head was reeling, trying to balance wanting to sit here and reassure Oliver that none of this was personal and wanting to storm inside and wring Henry’s neck because all of thiswaspersonal. “Why don’t we clean up and go inside?” I said.

My remaining roommates agreed, collecting armfuls of beer bottles, emptying ashtrays, and packing playing cards back into the box. I lingered on the roof a moment with Oliver after they’d all gone down, realizing there was something else we’d yet to discuss about the night.

“So,” I said, looking at my watch. “It’s getting late, and I’m not quite sure you’ll be able to find a tube...” I hoped he would finish the thought.

“I could call an Uber,” he said. “Or I could stay over? I know we haven’t done that yet, so if you’re uncomfortable, just say the word and I’m in a cab on my way home.”

“It’s silly to go all the way home at this hour,” I said, resting my hands on the collar of his jacket, trying to erase the tension of the past few minutes. He put his hands over mine, then gently returned them to my sides.

“If I’m going to wake up in this flat tomorrow, Luce, be honest with me for a minute. What was that about, just now? With Henry?”

“It was nothing,” I said in a high-pitched voice that didn’t belong to me. He said nothing, just waited patiently for me to tell the truth. “Okay,” I started. “So we have a bit of history. Nothing serious. Almost nothing at all, really. Over before it started. It was never going to work, anyway, so it wasn’t even worth a try.”

He stared into the darkness, processing these fragments. “You’re sure it was nothing serious? I mean, there must have been some kind of falling out, right? He seemed quite cheesed off about my being here.”

“Yes, I’m sure. I mean, yes, it wasn’t serious, and yes, there was a falling out. He rejected me, it was pretty embarrassing, but it’s all in the past now. And I like the present much better.” I reached for his hand, and while he didn’t pull away, he didn’t grab mine back, either.

“Me too,” he said, not quite matching my level of conviction. “I just hope the past is really in the past.”

“I can assure you it is. For me, anyway. Which is what matters. And I’m sorry about his behavior tonight, Oliver. I’vereally never seen him like that. I think the girls are right—it’s mostly because he’s going through something else, I guess, but it wasn’t personal. I don’t want him to scare you off.”

“Lucky for you, I don’t scare easy. But I do trust easy, and I don’t want to be fooled, Luce. If there’s still something there, please say so.”

“There isn’t,” I said, crossing my heart. “Promise.”

He tipped my chin up to kiss me, but for a second, it wasn’t his face I saw.

“Good,” he said. “Now let’s make a cuppa and get into bed. I’m knackered and also maybe a bit drunk.”

When we got back inside, the apartment was mostly quiet. Everyone else had found their way to bed. I wasn’t sure what Cal had planned for tomorrow, if anything at all, but I supposed it was best to be prepared for the day either way.

“I’m just going to wash my face,” I said when we were back in my room. “Back in a minute.”

I was almost in the bathroom when I heard a whisper from down the hall. Henry’s whisper. Calling my name. I squinted in the darkness, trying to make out his figure.

“Luce,” he said again. “Can we talk?” He came into the sliver of light in the corridor, chest bare, joggers hanging low on his hips, and I could make out rosy rings around his eyes and disheveled hair pushed behind his ears. I wished he’d stayed in the dark.

“I have nothing to say to you,” I said, trying to keep my voice low so Oliver wouldn’t hear. “Except that you are a miserable sod when you drink too much, and that was an embarrassing display of, well, whatever that was. I thought we were headed in the right direction, you know. After today. But I should have known better.”

“I’m sorry,” he said at full volume, missing my cues to keephis voice down. I looked around, careful to check that no one else was around to see us, then ushered him into his room. If we were going to do this, we definitely weren’t doing it in the corridor. “I know that was out of line,” he continued. “But so was bringing him here, don’t you think? I mean it’s been, what, just over a month since Amsterdam?”

“Since we ended things, you mean? Because really, I could have moved on the next day and been sure it wouldn’t matter to you.”

“Of course it mattered to me,” he said.

I laughed in his face, feeling my voice rising. “Is that just another one of those things you feel the need to say in the moment? Even though we both know you don’t mean it?”

“It’s not like that,” he said.

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