Page 94 of Commitment Issues
“No, don’t buy it. Each other’s bit of fun? That’s crap. But what Idobuy, is that Gavin would lie through his teeth. You need to speak to Elliot and get this out in the open. I’ve known him for years and one thing I do know about him is that he’s honourable. He wouldn’t treat you like that, if he were ever to get back with Gavin, which he’s not. He’d be upfront with you. Ring him now and tell him what’s happened. Get his side of the story.”
Ring Elliot. Talk to Elliot. Get it all out in the open. Yes, yes, yes. It’s the right thing to do, the sensible, adult thing to do. But I don’t feel sensible, or even very much like an adult, at the moment.
“You’re right, I know you are. I will speak to him, but not now.”
“But—”
“Cos, please? Don’t push, okay?”
He doesn’t just look at me, he studies me, his face more serious than I think I’ve ever seen, before he gives a sharp nod.
“Okay, but I think you’re wrong. The more you leave it the more it’ll fester.”
I get up and continue packing. I’ve plenty of time before my train, but I just want to get out, get to the station, and sit myself in Wetherspoon’s for an hour or so and numb myself with cheap beer.
“How long will you be away for?”
“I’m not sure. A few days at most. I’ve finished with the supermarket now, but I’m still going to have to go into the department as I’ve work there to finish up before I go. All the arrangements for Oslo are pretty much tied up, so that’s one thing off my plate. There’s not really that much to hold me here until I go away.”
His face falls and I kick myself. I pull him to me and hug him tight. “Except for you of course, you idiot. For now, I just want to get away for a bit.”
“Okay, but don’t leave it too long before you speak to Elliot.”
I give him another hard hug before I clap my hands to his cheeks and give him a smacker of a kiss on the lips.
“I’ve told you, you’ve got to stop hitting on me ‘cause you’re not my type,” he says, laughter dancing in his eyes.
“And you’re not mine.” My voice catches. No, Cosmo’s not my type, because I know who and what is. “I’ll text you when I get home.” I turn away because I don’t want my friend to see the tears that are once again prickling at the back of my eyes, and threatening to fall.
