Page 105 of Forever, Maybe
Avril Taylor: Glasgow’s golden girl turned Hollywood starlet. She’d dropped the accent, conquered Netflix, and returned home a few months back to film a drama. In happier times, Nell had joked with Daniel that one paparazzi shot of Avril leavingStuffed!with a wrap would turn his business into a nationwide hit.
Nate had trained Avril for a role—an intense, pressurised stretch during which her marriage had spectacularly imploded. His affairs and hers had been gleefully picked apart by tabloids, magazines, and online gossip sites. Nell supposed she should be grateful for small mercies: at least her own marriage had fallen apart in private.
Stephanie launched into a string of Avril stories—not from Nate, of course; apparently, he was maddeningly discreet despite the slip. Instead, she gleefully relayed gossip from other sources, throwing in her own take about how dating a personal trainer had made her hyper-aware of her own fitness—or lack thereof.
“It’s impossible not to feel self-conscious,” she said, sipping her lager. “I’m one bad plank away from him staging an intervention. He says it’s no big deal, but his abs could carve marble.”
Nell smiled, grateful for the distraction. Stephanie’s chatter filled the room like a warm blanket, briefly easing the ever-present ache.
“S’pose it doesn’t help that I eat like a horse,” Stephanie added, eyeing her empty plate with regret.
Nell shook her head. “I doubt he cares. Nate’s a great guy—once you get past his habit of blurting out whatever’s in his head.”
Stephanie’s face twitched, and Nell could tell she wanted to leap in with all the reasons she wholeheartedly agreed with the “great guy” assessment. But she held back, likely biting her tongue for Nell’s sake. Instead, she took a long swig of lager, giving the moment a beat of silence before steering the conversation elsewhere.
“How long are you planning to stay with your mum and dad?”
The million-dollar question. Or rather, the six-million-dollar question:Are you and Danny divorcing?
Nell shrugged, trying to sound casual. “A month, maybe? Aren’t you and I the poster kids for digital nomads? As long as I’ve got a laptop and Wi-Fi, I can work from anywhere. I’ve been thinking about moving back to Norfolk. Dad’s going to need a lot of help with Mum, and I have years of neglect to make up for.”
Stephanie nodded slowly, scooping more rice and a couple of onion bhajis onto her plate. “That makes sense, but… isn’t this your home? Glasgow, I mean. Maybe not this house, but your life? Your family and friends. They’re all here.”
Nell snorted, bitterness creeping into her voice. “What family? The only family I have here is Danny’s, and they’ll never speak to me again once the divorce papers are signed. And apart from you, my friends are all couples—Danny’s friends, really. I’ll be the odd one out, and they’ll side with him. Do you remember all those women’s magazine articles from years ago, the ones that told you to have your own friends, not to get sucked into your partner’s social world? I should write in and tell them how right they were.”
Stephanie leant against the back of her chair, staring at Nell with quiet intensity. “Please don’t leave Glasgow,” she said softly. “I mean it, Nell.”
Nell forced a watery smile. “Nothing’s decided yet.”
And it wasn’t. She and Danny had been drifting through the aftermath like ships lost in a storm. The chaos of that night—the one when Jenny Curtice had reappeared. Danny’s silence afterward, refusing to answer her calls or messages. And then, the gut-punch text that had arrived out of nowhere the day before:
Nell, I want a divorce.
She’d replied instantly, almost reflexively:Me too.
Since then, nothing. No follow-up. Just a curt response when she’d texted about Stephanie house-sitting and looking after Corrie:Fine.
Nell’s throat tightened at the thought of it all, but she swallowed it down. “Well, nothing’s set in stone,” she said again, more to herself than Stephanie.
Resentment had crept in like an unwelcome guest, settling in her chest and refusing to leave. Was what she’d done really so terrible in the grand scheme of things? Didn’t millions of relationships survive adultery every year?
But then, there wasthatlong-ago incident… oh. No. She wasn’t going there. As the old saying warned, that way madness lies.
Stephanie, as always, busied herself when words wouldn’t suffice. She insisted on clearing up, washing all the dishes and takeaway containers, and hauling the empties out to the recycling bin. When the kitchen was spotless, she dug through Nell’s streaming queue and picked out an old episode ofFriends, carefully avoiding any that might dredge up romantic storylines. Joey-heavy episodes were her specialty.
Stephanie’s mimicry of Joey Tribbiani was spot-on, her “How you doin’?” so perfect it could’ve fooled a casting agent. For a little while, titters lightened the room, even if Nell’s felt brittle around the edges.
The next morning, Stephanie stumbled out of bed early, bleary-eyed but determined to see Nell off. While the kettle boiled in the kitchen, she stood barefoot in the driveway, waving Nell farewell as though she were heading off on a great expedition.
“Drive carefully!” Stephanie called, her voice cutting through the crisp morning air. “Stop for plenty of breaks. It’s a long way!”
As Nell drove away, Stephanie’s reflection in the rearview mirror grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared. A vice gripped Nell’s chest as a thought struck her: this might be the last time she saw Stephanie for quite some time.
When her friend had asked last night how long she planned to stay in Norwich, Nell had answered lightly,“A month.”But in her heart, she knew it would be much longer.
Her marriage split wasn’t the only reason. There was another, older wound that had never fully healed—one only her parents could help her confront. The big question, though, was whether her mother would even be able to remember.
And based on recent conversations with Cate, Nell suspected not.
