by Bronwyn Sell
AMY: Jeez you type fast!
SOPHIA: Just sneaking out between canopies and speeches at my parents’ wedding anniversary lunch.
AMY: One condition.
SOPHIA: I already met your condition! I told you why!
AMY: I want a full report. Without intimate details because, you know, cousins, so eew.
SOPHIA: Fairly confident there won’t be intimate details but sure.
AMY: Only *fairly* confident?
SOPHIA: Well, he *will* be wearing a tuxedo.
AMY: Harry in a suit for the second time in a year?
SOPHIA: Nothing hotter than a sexy guy in a tuxedo.
AMY: COUSIN!!!
SOPHIA: Joking aside, we’re just friends and I can’t see it becoming anything more, so … He’s been a great virtual shoulder for me to whinge on in the last few months. But different lives, you know? I will be content to just enjoy the view.
AMY: If you don’t take the risk, you don’t get the reward.
SOPHIA: Speaking of which, did anything ever happen between you and Josh? He was so into you.
AMY: I have to go, soz.
SOPHIA: Sure you do.
AMY: I do! Stand by for the number. But I expect a full report tomorrow morning—after you leave his hotel room.
SOPHIA: Won’t be like that!
AMY: Cutting and pasting some excellent advice I received recently. Stand by.
AMY: Stop the masochistic torture and admit to yourself—and to your boyfriend (because that’s what he is, duh)—that you’re in love with him. What’s the worst that could happen? And if he dumps you, he’s just been playing you all along and you need to hold out for a guy who’ll respect you and give you what you need. You deserve him or you deserve more. If he’s not going to give you the former, you need to choose the latter. Stop settling for less.
SOPHIA: ???
AMY: Take the risk. He’s like the best guy in the multiverse.
SOPHIA: I know. But we’re nowhere near there yet. Not sure we’ll ever get there.
AMY: He’s just a total coward when it comes to relationships.
SOPHIA: I don’t think it’s possible to be single at my age or thereabouts without being somewhat cynical about love.
SOPHIA: Not that I want to burst your bubble.
AMY: Don’t worry, I’m an eternal optimist. It’s my downfall.
SOPHIA: It’s a very good trait. Never change.
Amy
Amy opened the fridge, looked at the open bottle of rosé, and closed it again. No. This wouldn’t be a repeat of her champagne-fuelled fumble in Carmen’s office. This time, she’d practically composed a lecture, complete with metaphorical slides, data and a literature review. A set of unarguable facts about how perfect she and Josh were for each other, and how, as the quiz had proven beyond doubt, they were already in a relationship. The change of status would be in classification only.
She settled for pouring herself an iced water, squirting lime juice in it and sitting on the sofa. She heard a clack from the ground level below—the front door unlocking—and hugged her knees, staring at the cornice in the ceiling as she charted the progress of the new arrival. She’d already had two false starts that evening—her upstairs neighbours coming home, one by one. She listened for the door opening to the downstairs flat, but it didn’t. There was some shuffling—Josh parking his bike?—and then a clang as a foot hit the lowest stair, then the next, the clangs gaining speed as he jogged up, like he always did. A jangle of keys on the landing. A pause. The rasp of one sliding into the lock. She looked at the door handle. It turned.
This was it.
Sophia
The nerves were back. Sophia jammed her lips together as her taxi turned down Kent Street, on final approach to Harry’s conference hotel. Her bedroom, right now, resembled her villa at Curlew Bay on the morning she’d dressed for their first ‘date’, except instead of summer dresses and sandals, it was scattered with gowns and stilettos. After way too much deliberation, she’d chosen a slinky navy number with a super-low back. Cleavage was all look-but-don’t-touch, but a bare back was basically a boyfriend hand magnet. Not that Harry was her boyfriend, or ever would be. And that was okay.
The driver drew to a stop outside the hotel. And there he was, waiting beside the entrance, one leg kicked back against the sandstone façade, presumably in lieu of leaning against it in his suit jacket. What was it about a tuxedo? Maybe it was the way it made a guy appear like a crisply wrapped gift, complete with bow. His hair was shorter and tamer and his body was resplendent in 3D instead of the avatar that her avatar had been flirting with online ever since that glorious moment his friend request had popped up. She might once have been cynical about internet relationships, but it turned out you could dig surprisingly deep when things weren’t said out loud to an actual face. It was like giving someone access to your journal, and he seemed more forthcoming in writing than in person. She’d explored some corners of him she might not otherwise have had a chance to explore this early on, ratcheting up their connection to a new plateau. Now to see if the reality of it matched the idea of it.
His eyes narrowed as he peered into her cab and then his face lit up in a way that lit her up all over. As she paid, he strolled toward her, and every step echoed in a pit-a-pat up her body. She allowed herself the tiniest of squeaks.
The driver looked across at Harry, and then back at Sophia. ‘Have a good night,’ the woman said with meaning.
‘Oh, I plan to.’
Josh
Josh hung his backpack on the hook beside the door and pulled a packet of microwave popcorn from the front pocket.
‘We had a callout to a cinema first thing and I’ve been craving popcorn ever since,’ he called to Amy, who was on the sofa. ‘I do have ingredients for real dinner,’ he added, nodding to his bag, ‘but first I have to do this.’ He crossed to the galley kitchen in the little flat, tossed the packet into the microwave and set it to cook. His mouth watered. Could he have a salt deficiency? He wandered over to Amy and braced a hand on the back of the sofa as he leaned over her. She angled up her face for a brief kiss. ‘Hey,’ he whispered in a greeting as he pulled away—but not too far in case he wanted to go back for more.
‘Hey,’ she echoed. She smiled, but it looked a little off. She seemed tired or stressed or something.
‘Good day?’ he ventured as the first pop came from the microwave. ‘Department seminar go well?’
‘It was good. They all played along with the pop quiz. I thought they might think it was naff, but …’ She shrugged, as the popping gained momentum. ‘Josh, can we, um …’ She closed her eyes tightly. ‘Talk?’ she said, opening them, but not all the way.
He froze. Talk? And the emphasis and the hesitation meant … what? He noted the tumbler sitting on the coffee table instead of her usual end-of-the-day glass of wine, the way she was hugging her knees, the drawn face. ‘Oh man, you’re not pregnant, are you?’
She flinched. ‘What? No!’
‘Shit,’ he said, straightening and running his fingers through his hair before remembering he’d had it shaved for charity and it was still barely a number two. So hard to get used to that. ‘Can you make sure you always have a wine glass in front of you?’
‘Would it really ruin your life if I was pregnant?’ It sounded like a challenge.
‘No, it wouldn’t ruin my life,’ he said, treading carefully, ‘but it wouldn’t be an ideal situation to bring up a kid.’
She turned her head to stare out the window, as if there were something new to see on the brick wall next door. The microwave was reaching maximum poppage.
‘Aims? Everything okay?’
‘I just …’
She kept staring out the window, though her chest rose and fell with more force than usual. He grimaced. She was about to break up with him, wasn’t she? Not that there was officially anything to break but it was way overdue. Bummer was, he liked his life the way it was. He’d started to bond with his workm
ates—always took a while in a new station—plus Pippa was in a good place, and he was getting along better with Sanjay than he had in decades, thanks to Geoff and Amy’s laidback presence. Just having two more people around smoothed away the friction. He hadn’t realised how much the constant one-on-one situations with his parents had intensified his relationships with them. These days, they could go to Sunday dinner with Geoff and Sanjay and he could sit quietly and just be, without feeling like he was in an unrelenting interrogation. There were other topics, other people to talk about, and multiple opinions rather than just two opposing ones, especially when Geoff’s sister and their assorted parents came. Sometimes they went a whole evening without discussing Josh’s failings at all, and if Sanjay did start getting intense, Geoff would delicately talk him down without him even realising.
Most of all, Josh liked where things were at with Amy. He loved where things were at. Best mate he’d ever had, not that there was a long list to choose from. He certainly no longer thought of her as a sister, not when they were doing what they were doing. And sure, he’d always known they’d have to stop sleeping together at some point. But what was the hurry when it was a perfect arrangement? And if they went cold turkey, he’d have to move out because no way could he live with her knowing he couldn’t touch her.
‘I want …’ she started. She turned to look at him, her eyes huge and vulnerable and earnest, and he mentally prepared for the dumping. ‘I want us to make this a real relationship.’
He stared, his mouth dropping open, feeling like he’d been braced to veer one way and the car had veered the other.
‘Josh?’ she said, after a few long seconds. ‘The popcorn?’
‘Shit.’ How long ago had the popping stopped? A sweet, burning smell was coming from the microwave. He skidded across the room and stopped it. One kernel made a last-chance pop.
He didn’t want the popcorn anymore.
Sophia
‘I knew you’d look amazing,’ Harry said in a way that indicated he wasn’t disappointed. He held out his hand, and Sophia let him pull her out of the cab. Well, it was a symbolic assist. She wasn’t some waif who could be pulled up by her fingertips, and the last thing she wanted right now was to injure him.
‘Nice dress,’ he said, dropping his gaze for just a second before reconnecting with her eyes.
‘Non-violent, too.’
‘Come again?’
‘Certified peace silk. Apparently, the silkworms lived long and fulfilling lives and fluttered away in mothy ecstasy before their cocoons were harvested. Usually they just get boiled alive, or something.’
He tipped his head to one side. ‘How thoughtful.’
‘Nice suit,’ she said, mirroring his gaze-dip.
‘Thanks. I even managed to dress myself.’
He reached behind her to push the taxi door closed. Then, as if to banish any lingering doubt about the kind of date this was, he slipped a hand around to her lower back (win!), urged her closer with the tiniest of pressure, and kissed her, lingering just long enough to send a message, but not so long that it would seem inappropriate to observers. He was technically at work tonight, after all. As she sank back onto her heels, she inadvertently sucked in a gaspy, throaty breath. That kiss had been a long time coming.
The muscles around his eyes contracted for a split second. ‘Did I just leave you breathless?’ he said with that grin she’d only been able to imagine since leaving the island. She’d failed to take photos of him, being allergic to her phone at the time, and there were scant pictures of him on his social media. His sporadically updated timeline mostly featured sea creatures or his goats, though to be fair, the goats were comically photogenic. She’d resisted ‘liking’ every photo in his history so as not to appear too stalkery, but she’d noted with satisfaction that he’d ‘liked’ a photo of her from several years ago. The only hits she’d found on the internet—after her sisters had begged to see what he looked like—were random, dated snapshots that hadn’t done him justice, and the family portrait on the resort website. They would definitely get a good photo tonight because she was planning to record this date for posterity. That was the thing with a relationship that couldn’t go anywhere. It was like a long, lingering summer. You appreciated every moment in the sunshine because you knew winter was coming.
‘Going by the look in your eyes,’ she said, ‘I may need to be hooked up to oxygen by the end of the night.’ Her huskiness was unintentional, but she would have made it intentional had she known it would prompt such a super-sexy slight groan.
Well, look at you, Sophia Wicks. Living for the moment.
Amy
‘Aims, we agreed from the start,’ Josh said to the microwave. ‘This was never going to be a relationship.’
‘We are in a relationship,’ Amy said, keeping her voice as neutral as she could. ‘This is a relationship.’
‘No, it’s not.’ Josh went to shove his hands into his hair again and stopped, swearing quietly to himself. He swivelled and leaned back on the kitchen bench, his hands gripping the benchtop behind him. ‘That’s why it works. That’s why it’s fine how it is. But if you can’t do it anymore, then we don’t do it.’
The pushback was just as expected, even if the optimist in her had hoped he’d say, You know what? That’s exactly what I was thinking. Let’s make this real.
‘Josh,’ she said, ‘we are in a relationship in every way except that it’s not official and no one else knows. Whatever it is you’re scared of—’
‘Scared? I’m not scared of a relationship.’
‘Okay, scared might not have been the right word there.’ Even if that’s exactly what you are. ‘But—’
‘Aims, it’s just not what I want for my life. It doesn’t sit well with me, never has. And you know this is not about you, right?’ He crossed his arms. ‘If you want out, then I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it.’
‘That’s not what I want. That’s the opposite of what I want. I don’t want nothing. I want everything.’
‘So it’s black or white and nothing in between?’
‘Exactly.’ It was like her mother said all those months ago. There was a time to compromise and a time to put your foot down. Of course, Rosa had also said you should figure that stuff out at the beginning of a relationship. Amy had been bending over backward for so long, she was curled back on herself like a human scorpion.
‘But Aims, do you like this, do you like hanging out, do you like sleeping together?’
‘Of course I do. Otherwise I wouldn’t be asking for this.’
‘So why ruin it?’
You can say it. You can say what you’ve been avoiding saying for months. ‘Because I want more.’
‘Why? Like you just said, we are practically in a relationship. What more do you want?’
‘I didn’t say practically. I said we are in a relationship. And I want it to be real.’
‘It’s real enough, isn’t it?’
Amy released her hold on her knees and sat properly, so as not to look so defensive, though that left her troublesome, idle hands unsecured. She tucked them under her thighs. ‘Except that there’s no assumption of a future here. The opposite, in fact. We have an agreement that either of us can walk away anytime, go on dates with anyone else we want.’ Not that either of them did.
‘You know people do that stuff in any relationship, right?’ He threw his hands up. ‘People do that in a marriage, people with children. Doesn’t make any difference if it’s official or not, except that if it is official, it gets way more nasty and dramatic and drags in a whole lot more innocent people.’ He paused, and his jaw worked for a second. ‘You’re happy right now, yeah? I mean, obviously not right now, but these last few months, you’ve been really happy, right?’
‘So happy. Stupidly happy. But it’s a fake happiness.’
‘It’s not. It’s real. Just because it’s temporary … Everything’s temporary, Aims, whether it has a name or not. Life is temporary. I don�
��t get why would you choose unhappiness.’
‘Um, I could say the same thing about you.’
He shook his head slightly, like she was being illogical. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You know you’re choosing to be unhappy, right? You’d rather end this thing than commit to it.’
‘You’re the one making the ultimatum. You’re the one who would prefer unhappiness to this.’
‘Do you not see the irony here? I want to be happy. I want us to be happy. That’s why I want more.’
‘You just said you’re happy doing what we’re doing. I don’t get why you’d spoil it for the sake of legitimacy or whatever it is you’re after. The way it is now,’ he said, gesturing around the room as if their op-shop furnishings represented the status quo, ‘we get to have all the good stuff and, one day, we get to walk away without our hearts getting broken—or anyone else’s—and we get to stay friends.’
‘See, that’s the thing. I think it’s got too late for that.’ She had to force the words out to stop her voice cracking, which made her sound bitter. This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. In her head, he hadn’t fought this hard.
‘Too late to stay friends? Why? We get along so well, and it’s not as if—’
‘No, I didn’t mean that part. Well yeah, that too, but I meant it’s too late for me to walk away without …’ She felt the sting of tears and shut her eyes tight and pinched the soft skin at the top of her nose.
‘Oh shit, Aims,’ he said in a deeper tone. She heard his footfalls, felt the sofa sink as he sat next to her. ‘I swear I didn’t know you were feeling that way. Otherwise I never would have let it go on for so long. I thought we were just having a good time together. I thought we were on the same page here.’
‘You hold my hand,’ she said, daring to release her nose and open her eyes.
‘What?’ He was sitting so close, looking so concerned, that it hurt, right in her chest.
‘You hold my hand, you massage my neck, we cuddle,’ she said, letting her hands out on parole, but just as far as her lap, where she clutched them tightly together. ‘That’s not what friends with benefits do. Friends with benefits hang out and occasionally end up in bed. Everything in our relationship feels real to me. It feels like you’re my boyfriend. Does it not feel that way to you?’