by Louise Bay
I quietly opened the front door of the house Emma and I shared, trying to turn my key as slowly as possible in the lock, to avoid the overly loud clunk it made. It was late, and she had an early shift the next morning at the hospital.
I didn’t switch on any lights and quietly got undressed to my boxers and slid under the blankets.
“Hey,” she said.
I’d been sure she would be asleep.
“Having trouble sleeping?” I asked.
She turned over to her side, facing me. “Yeah, a little. How was Sunday dinner?”
“Good. Everyone asked after you.” It wasn’t entirely true, or even slightly true, but I was sure they had meant to ask after her.
“That’s nice,” she replied.
I sighed and slid my hand behind my head, my eyes drawn to the light of the streetlamps bleeding into the room from the edges of our window blind. The atmosphere was thick with the unspoken words of a conversation we were about to have.
“Did you enjoy the wedding?” she asked.
“Yeah, sure.” I’d deliberately avoided the subject since her tears during the photographs on Saturday. “Haven cooked duck for dinner. We should try it sometime. It was good. She’s turning into quite the chef.”
“Sounds like marriage suits her. You ever think about whether it would suit you, too?” she asked.
My skin started to itch, and I needed some water. I pulled the bedcovers off me to go and get a drink. “Why would I? We’re happy as we are,” I said as I wandered into the bathroom, willing her to drop the subject.
“Marriage is the next step for two people who are happy and in love, isn’t it?” she asked, raising her voice slightly so I could still hear her clearly, despite the rush of the faucet. I felt as if I’d just stepped in quicksand. There was pressure all over my body, as if I were being squeezed between two concrete walls—like the garbage compactor scene in Star Wars. I could do with a couple of Jedi mind tricks right at this moment.
“I don’t see why.” I hoped that would be the end of it, but knew it wouldn’t be. This conversation felt as though it was taking us down a one-way street. I brushed my teeth again, wanting to give Emma time to fall asleep. Why had she brought this up? Things were just fine.
I stuck the toothbrush back in the jar, rinsed my mouth and went back into the bedroom. She was staring at me.
“You’ve never thought about us getting married?” she asked again, more directly this time.
“I said that I didn’t. I don’t lie to you, Emma.” I slipped back under the blankets and lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, willing the conversation to be over.
“You don’t want to be married before we have children?”
Jesus, now kids were part of the equation? “Now we’re talking about children?”
“We need to talk about this stuff, Luke. I don’t want to be just your roommate. Haven’s married now. And she and Jake were together no time at all before he proposed.”
“And it works for them.”
“But you don’t think it would work for us?” she asked.
I scrubbed my hands over my face. “It’s late. I don’t want to talk about this now. I need to get to sleep. And you have an early start. Let’s discuss it another time, if you think it’s important.”
“If I think it’s important? Of course it’s important. We can’t stay like we are,” she said. “You can be a real prick at times.”
“You’re the one bringing this up out of nowhere in the middle of the night.”
“Out of nowhere? Are you fucking kidding me? We’ve been living together for nearly three years. Look around, Luke. Everyone’s getting married. People live together, they get married and then they have kids. Why do you think you’re the exception?”
“So you want to get married because everyone else does? Sounds like excellent reasoning.” The litigator in me instinctively wanted to win the argument, regardless of the merits and demerits of what was being said.
“I want to get married because I love you, you fucking idiot. I want to have kids with you because I want to have your children. Maybe not today, but one day. Jesus, Luke, why is this a shock?”
I couldn’t argue with someone who was telling me they loved me, even if they spat the words out. I kept scanning through memories of conversations we’d had over the years, trying to find one where we’d talked about marriage. I couldn’t think of a single one. I’d always assumed she was as unbothered by it as I was. Had I been wrong? Had I led her on? I lowered my voice and asked, “But why are you bringing this up now?”
She took a breath. “I want us to move on, take the next step of our lives together. I don’t understand why you are so keen for everything to stay the same.”
“I’m not sure what to say. This isn’t something . . .” I didn’t know how to end my sentence. Something I ever want. Something I think I want. Something I have thought about? I didn’t want to hurt Emma, but I didn’t see that in my future.
I needed to talk to someone other than her about this. I wanted to speak to Haven or Ash.
“Do you love me?” she asked when I didn’t finish my sentence.
“Of course I do. I mean, we’ve been together for—”
“This is it, babe. This is what people do. They get married. I know that guys don’t like to think they’re getting older, but we are. All of us. We’re not kids playing house anymore.”
Had my parents thought like this? Had one of them wanted to get married and suggested it to the other and then they’d decided, rationally, that it was the right step? I just couldn’t see it. I’d always felt that they were on a different path. I’d never seen my relationship with Emma as comparable with theirs. Something between them had meant they had to get married. If Emma and I didn’t feel that we had to get married, then why should we? It didn’t mean I didn’t love her. Just that we were different from other couples.
“Think about it. This is what I want, Luke. A future together.”
The next morning, I got up as soon as Emma left. I felt like a shit for pretending to be sleeping while she got ready so we didn’t have another difficult conversation. By mid-morning, I was still jittery from lack of sleep and I couldn’t concentrate on anything but trying to control the panic still flushing through my body. I headed toward the front staircase of our building and began to scroll through my contacts. I hit dial when I got to Ash. I needed something, someone that was mine, who knew me. Someone who wanted me to be happy, but would kick my ass if it needed kicking. Someone who would call me a douche if I deserved it, but ultimately wouldn’t judge me. Ash was that person. Haven and I were close, but she was my sister and didn’t have the same perspective Ash did. Haven didn’t have the sweetness about her that Ash did that made what came out of her mouth, however harsh, somehow more bearable.
“Fucking hell, I’m going to get into massive trouble, you phoning me on the ward. I hope your penis is falling off,” Ash answered the phone in a loud whisper. Despite my mood, I couldn’t help but chuckle. Maybe not everything she said was so sweet.
“How’s the business of curing the sick and the dying?”
“I work in palliative care, you douche. No one gets cured, that’s the point.”
“Stop making excuses for being a shitty nurse.”
I didn’t know how Ash did her job and managed to stay so happy all the time. All I did was move money about between clients. She saw people at their most vulnerable, in their last few weeks and months in this world, and she seemed to take it all in her stride.
“I wanted to know if you could meet for lunch, or maybe for drinks after work?” I thought I had lost reception for a second, because she didn’t answer straight away. “Ash?” I checked to see if she could hear me.
“Yeah . . . I don’t know. I’m busy tonight, and I go on lunch in ten minutes—”
Fuck, I’d have to leg it up to Hackney if I wanted to see her. I started to speed up my descent of the stairs. “I’ll come to you. I can be
there in ten minutes—as long as we don’t have to eat in the hospital cafeteria,” I offered. I found a cab straight away. “Hommerton Hospital,” I said to the cabbie, holding the phone away so Ash couldn’t hear and change her mind. I really wanted to see her. I needed her consistency, her familiarity, her reason. She would know what I should do about Emma. There seemed to be more hesitation from her side. “Come on. We’ve not had lunch for a while.”
“Okay, but I only have an hour.” She hung up.
I grinned. My day was improving. Seeing Ash was what I needed.
Less than ten minutes later, I was still panting from running up the street where the cab had dropped me. When I looked up from my phone to find Ash standing right in front of me. I felt myself relax immediately and the corners of my mouth turned up. “Hey,” I said.
“Hey yourself,” Ash replied. She smiled at me and everything seemed better with the world. The panic that had threatened to engulf me earlier ebbed away.
Ashleigh
I shouldn’t have agreed to meet Luke for lunch. We hadn’t met on our own, just him and me, for months, not since I’d started dating Richard. There was a reason for that—I should have remembered that before I gave in and agreed to meet him.
My heart squeezed as soon as I caught sight of him. Breathe, Ash. He looked so big and handsome, so familiar. As if he belonged to me, because in my head he always had.
“What are you wearing?” he asked and raised his eyebrows at me. No wonder he never saw me as anything other than a friend. If I was dressed in a tablecloth, I would have been more attractive.
“I know, scrubs. I had an accident. Actually, someone else had an accident and my uniform got literally covered in shit.” Luke grimaced. “Am I going to embarrass you dressed like this?”
“You look good in everything and you know it.” He grinned at me as we made our way to the sandwich bar at the end of the street.
I rolled my eyes, trying to make out that I was annoyed with him giving me a compliment. “So, what brings you to Hackney, Mr. City Lawyer?” I asked. “Slumming it?”
“No. Can’t a friend ask you to lunch without a reason other than wanting to see you?”
I wished he wouldn’t be so nice to me, that he could just be a real asshole. Then I could hate him and have a chance of getting over him. But really, I had no desire to hate him. I wanted him in my life, even if it was as friends. I’d managed this far, and I’d just have to readjust and make sure our relationship worked, even when I was dating. “You saw me yesterday.”
“Yeah, but you and I didn’t get a chance to talk much. And I wanted to speak to you about something.”
I led the way into the sandwich shop. Because we had known each other for as long as we had, we had shortcuts where he knew what I was thinking without any exchange of words. Did Richard and I need time to get to that point, or was it something more than just the number of years Luke and I had spent together that made us that way?
“Ham salad?” I asked him as he arrived at our table with a tray full of drinks and sandwiches wrapped in wax paper.
“Nope, try again.” He grinned. It was a usual routine. I had to guess what he’d ordered me before I was allowed to see it.
“Roast beef and rocket?” I scrunched my face up exaggeratedly, waiting for the verdict.
“You hate beef,” he said, his brows pulled together, looking at me as if I were nuts.
I laughed. “I know. I thought you might have forgotten. Ham and egg?”
“Nope,” he said, unwrapping his sandwich then taking a bite. He was grinning at me as if he’d just won the lottery.
“Are you kidding? Coronation chicken?” It was my favorite and they only had it on special here every now and then. Our ritual distracted me from thinking about how I shouldn’t be here with him and reminded me that when it came down to it, we were just Luke and Ash. Childhood friends.
He slid my sandwich across the table at me. I unwrapped it—I was right. “Thank you.” I was glad to see him. Pleased to have him to myself, it had been a long time.
“So, what’s going on? You’ve not woken up with a hangover in my spare room with my sister for ages now. Are you on the wagon?”
He’d not said anything before about the fact I’d not been around as much. I half wondered if Haven had mentioned something to him, even though she’d promised me she wouldn’t. “Ha. Ha,” I said. “Just busy, I guess. I’ve taken a few extra shifts, and Richard and I have been hanging out.” That was all true but it wouldn’t normally keep me away from him.
He watched me as if I were going to keep speaking. I had to look away. Those blue eyes of his could see right through me, and pull me under. I needed to keep my distance. “So it’s serious with this guy?”
I shrugged and stared out the window, afraid of what my eyes would reveal. “It’s too soon to tell. But he cares about me. And I want something serious.” I wanted to be in love with someone who didn’t see me as a sister, someone who loved me back; I just wasn’t sure if I wanted Richard.
“So that’s how it goes? You decide you want something serious, and you try and find the guy who fills the gap?”
My stomach lurched. I wasn’t sure if he was judging me or interested, but I felt uncomfortable talking about it. Perhaps because I couldn’t tell him the truth, which was that I couldn’t have what I really wanted, so I was looking to see if there was something else out there. I continued to chew so I wouldn’t have to answer him.
“It’s just that I think Emma wants to get serious.”
My chest contracted and I was sure I could feel my ribs against my heart. I swallowed. “Do you?” It was all I could manage.
He exhaled and his shoulders sagged. “I don’t know. Emma says that I’m afraid of change, and I just want everything to stay the same.” His voice was faint and I could barely hear him over the thudding in my ears. Fuck. This is what this felt like. I’d wondered for a while how I’d feel if and when Luke and Emma got married or had kids.
“Well that’s true.”
“I guess. But it’s not just that . . . I don’t think I’m that kind of guy.”
“What kind of guy?” I was intrigued. How did he see himself and his relationship with Emma? I mean, I was totally biased of course, but I just didn’t get them as a couple. They didn’t seem to like spending time together.
“The marrying kind, I suppose.” He looked at me and I raised my eyebrows. “Do I sound like a tit?”
I laughed, relieved to be normal for just a few seconds. “Maybe a little.”
“I don’t mean that I’m a player and I need my freedom. I’ve never cheated on Emma or anyone else. It’s just, I don’t see the point in marriage.”
“But if it’s important to her and you love her . . .” Say no. Say you love me.
“Right. Yes.”
“Then . . . if you’re not bothered but you just don’t believe in the institution, I . . . You could do it—for her. Maybe you give her what she needs?” Was I really trying to talk Luke into marrying someone who wasn’t me?
“Even though I don’t think that’s what I want? It’s not that I don’t believe in marriage. I do. I believed in it for my parents. But for me? I just don’t think it fits.”
I set my sandwich down in front of me. My appetite had officially died. This conversation was not how I imagined spending my lunch hour. “What are you going to do?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. She really wants this, and kids and everything.” It wasn’t a surprise, but hearing it made it real. A selfish part of me was relieved I was dating Richard. It was evidence that one part of my brain could use to show the other part that there wasn’t a real reason to be devastated because, after all, I had a boyfriend.
“You don’t want kids?”
“Not really. Certainly not yet. But it’s clearly been on Emma’s mind a while. God, I’m sorry to be bending your ear about this. It’s a first world problem compared to the stuff you’ve got going on at work. You’re
right. I am a tit.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “I didn’t say that.”
“Let’s talk about you. If it’s serious with Richard, how come we haven’t met him yet?” he asked.
I couldn’t picture that moment. Luke meeting Richard wasn’t something I wanted to happen anytime soon. I didn’t want to see them together. I knew I’d compare the two of them more than I did already, and Richard would likely come off the loser. He didn’t deserve that. He was a good guy and a great catch. Everyone at the hospital continually told me how lucky I was, how perfect we were for each other.
“Just busy, I guess,” I replied. “What else is going on with you? How’s work?” I hoped he’d take the hint and change the subject.
“Busy. They confirmed they’re putting me up for partnership this year.”
“Wow, Luke, that’s amazing.” I grinned at him. He’d worked so hard for so long. I was happy that he was finally starting to see some rewards. He was one of life’s good guys. He’d gained success through determination and hard work, not politicking and backstabbing. He deserved this.
He smiled back, a little embarrassed. “There are no guarantees. I’d be one of the youngest partners ever made up if I got it, so . . .”
For a second, I forgot about the distance I was supposed to be putting between us, and I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “I’m proud of you,” I said. “Your parents would be so, so proud.” The death of Luke’s mum and dad just before he started college had been horrific, but he’d kept it together, scooped up Haven and given her everything she needed emotionally. His college work had never wavered; he’d always kept his grades up at the same time as making sure Haven was looked after. I’d always been amazed at how adult he’d become, overnight. He’d inherited the mantle of the head of his family, and it was a responsibility he took seriously. He wanted to live the legacy of his parents—that kind, honest, hardworking people would win out in the end.