My Best Friend's Girl

by Dorothy Koomson

  “No, I can’t. I can’t talk to you. Not about this. You aren’t who I thought you were. And that place isn’t my home. Not anymore.”

  He reached across the table to take my hand and I jerked away from him. I used to love him holding my hand, the way his strong fingers would engulf my hand while his thumb caressed the center of my palm. Nate could touch me in so many different ways and make me comfortable, calm. But not anymore.

  “We can’t be over just like that,” he implored. “We’ve been together six years, we’re getting married in two months. It can’t be over just like that. We have to talk about this.”

  “OK, let’s talk. Was she better than me? Sexier? More willing? Quicker to orgasm? Up for—”

  “Stop it,” he cut in, “it wasn’t like that.”

  “What else is there to talk about?”

  “How much I love you? How much I want you back? How I’ll do anything to make it right between us. Anything.”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything.”

  “Then go away and leave me alone.” I got to my feet, tiredness made my head swim, my hearing echoey. “I want nothing more to do with you.”

  Nate closed his eyes as though he couldn’t believe he’d walked into that one.

  “I’ll come back for my stuff soon. I don’t know when yet, but soon. I’ll leave the furniture and anything we bought together. I’ll just take my books and CDs and DVDs, the rest of my clothes. My stuff that I moved in with. And I’ll want half the flat money so I can get somewhere of my own. I’ll keep paying the mortgage until we divide it all up so that there’s no discrepancy with the payments. Our solicitors can sort that out, we can communicate through them so we don’t have to talk again. If we sort it out quickly we can get on with our lives. And please, if you ever felt anything for me, please don’t tell my parents why the wedding is off. I’m going to call them and tell them, but don’t say it’s because…Please. I’ll die if anyone else knows. Just say anything but that. And, and, I think that’s it. Bye, Nate.”

  He stood too. “That can’t be it. We’ve got a wedding planned. Why don’t we put it on hold for a few more months until we sort it all out? This doesn’t have to be the end.”

  “Yes, it does. You know it does. That’s why you never told me. You knew it’d be the end because we could never…” My face crumpled. I’d wanted to get away without crying. I shook my head and pulled myself together. As I wiped at my eyes I spotted the platinum and ruby engagement ring still on my finger. Nate had designed it. It had a solid band, with a hexagon cut stone at its heart. Despite everyone telling him an engagement ring should have a diamond, he’d chosen a ruby because red was my favorite color. I’d not even thought of taking it off, it was such a part of me I’d forgotten it was there. I yanked it off, placed it on the glass table beside Nate’s chair. “Bye, Nate.”

  He dropped heavily back onto his seat as I walked away. I saw him once more when I went to get my stuff three months later. He was there as I packed, but he didn’t say anything. And when the removal men came later and took away my boxes he still said nothing. It was only as I was leaving that he spoke. He said those two words, “Don’t go,” and I stopped, turned to look at him because I knew it was the last time I’d see him, and then I walked out.

  He’d done what I wanted and left me alone. It was what I wanted. I needed them both to leave me alone so I could rebuild a life without them. Adele had tried to get in touch, but I hadn’t realized why until I saw her. Now I was going to dinner with Nate. And I was terrified.

  chapter 30

  Like he did in that hotel lobby, Nate rose from his seat as I approached him at the restaurant table. My heart was thumping in my chest, its staccato beating in my ears, blocking up my throat.

  His navy blue eyes met mine as I reached him, his mouth turned up slightly in a nervous smile. “Hi,” he said, moving around the table to me, placing his hand on my waist and kissing my cheek.

  “Hi,” I replied as I received the kiss. We’d spent six years making all types of physical love, now the only form of touch we were allowed was the offering and receiving of perfunctory kisses. It seemed wrong somehow.

  Seconds of silence followed as we busied ourselves unfolding napkins, stealing unsubtle looks at each other. He looked good. His thirty-five-year-old face was strong and lacking in any excess fat. His brown-black hair now looked more black because he’d gelled it up into more pronounced spikes than the last time I saw him. His skin was that smooth, gold brown that always surprised me because he had navy blue eyes and his parents—and Tegan—were a very pale white.

  The waiter arrived with menus, poured water into our glasses. He told us about the specials and before he had a chance to leave, we ordered food. Nate and I were the fastest orderers on earth, we wouldn’t waste valuable time messing about, we’d make a decision and stick to it. The waiter wrote down what we wanted, then walked away, leaving us alone. Leaving us to our evening together.

  Nate sipped his water, I played with the base of my wineglass. Both of us were silent, waiting for the other to speak first.

  “This is like being on a first date,” Nate said with a slight laugh, lifting his eyes to meet mine.

  “Yeah, except we never really went on dates, did we?”

  “We had coffee!” Nate protested.

  “That ended back at your house.”

  “I thought all my Christmases had come at once,” Nate said. “Literally. When you invited yourself back to my place, it was better than I could have imagined.”

  “I couldn’t believe you actually thought I was inviting myself back for coffee.”

  “I didn’t, I was just so surprised that you’d come out with me at all, the idea that you’d let me touch you…”

  “Yeah,” I agreed.

  “Even then we both knew we were meant to be together, didn’t we?” He was serious. When it came to us, Nate always said things like that and meant it because, according to him, fate had thrown us together. The party we met at, he told me, he hadn’t wanted to go to at all. His friends had persuaded him and when he arrived and saw me he realized that he’d met his soul mate. The woman he was going to marry.

  “No, Nate, that’s what you thought,” I clarified. “I had altogether different motives—namely putting you off me.”

  “What?” He drew back, alarmed and distressed in equal measures.

  “I thought—hoped, I suppose—that you’d think I was easy cos I slept with you straightaway and you’d disappear.”

  “Oh.” Nate sat back, stared down at the white tablecloth, took another sip of water as he considered his reply. That was cruel and unnecessary, I realized. I’d purposely dismantled what was obviously a good memory for him. I opened my mouth to add that I’d only done it because how much I liked him had scared me, but his eyes darted up from the table, silencing me. “Nothing you did could have put me off you,” he said. “I’d already fallen for you in a big way.”

  It was my turn to focus on the white cotton tablecloth. That was typical Nate; if he wasn’t combatting one of my moods with stoicism, he’d be earnest about how he felt. And that would make me feel awful. We’d had three full-blown rows in our six years together and all of them were started by him because if he snapped at me, I didn’t let it go like he did—I’d snap back and things would get vicious. If I snapped at him first I’d be greeted with patience or honesty.

  “Why so embarrassed, lady?” he teased. “It’s true. You know it’s true.”

  Our starters arrived and we silently watched the waiter place big white plates in front of us. I’d ordered strips of smoked salmon on a bed of rocket and Nate had gone for the roast vegetable soup topped with roasted almonds. Neither of us moved toward our food even when the waiter had gone. He was waiting for me to say something after his honest, calm reaction to my cruelty. He was waiting to find out if I would revert to the über-bitch he met or the sporadically nasty woman he almost married.

  “That night
was pretty confusing for me too,” I confessed, concentrating on the way the rocket cradled the pink shreds of fish in its spiky hold. “In fact, it totally shook me up.” I finally met his gaze. “When I got home that night I knew I had to see you again, and soon, because no one had ever touched me in the way you did. I never slept with anyone else after that night.”

  “I thought…”

  “Yes, I gave you the impression that I had a couple of other men on the go but I didn’t. I couldn’t think about being with anyone else—after that coffee it was only you.”

  Nate’s face softened into a smile of surprise. He was still grinning as he picked up his spoon and started to eat. I picked up my fork, used its prongs to toy with the salmon strips but never once brought it to my mouth. Eating with my spin-cycle stomach was not an option. I watched the bowl of the spoon, filled with thick beige soup, disappear into Nate’s mouth.

  The memory of crying when we decided to get married came back to me. Crying because I’d finally realized what unconditional love felt like. Not only to receive it but to feel it. I’d known for a while I loved Nate but at the moment he accepted my proposal, I acknowledged what that meant. That I wasn’t broken, I was like other people, I could feel, I could connect. And my heart was privileged enough to experience love. My heart had been handpicked to find the one man I could love. And I had him to love for the rest of my life.

  Nate glanced up from his soup, caught me watching him and beamed at me, his eyes crinkling up like they did on the day we first met for coffee. I grinned back and the tension lifted and we fell back into the ease and comfort we’d had on our first date.

  chapter 31

  We talked and talked about nothing. I know it was nothing because when the waiter brought us the bill and our coats (we hadn’t asked for them, he simply wanted to go home, what with it being well after closing time) we knew virtually nothing new about each other: he didn’t know about Tegan, that I’d seen him at the funeral, nor that my boyfriend was called Luke. I didn’t know how he’d found out about the funeral, if he was seeing someone, or why he had slept with Adele.

  “May I walk you home?” Nate asked as the lights around the room were dimmed and the last few chairs were placed on tables.

  “You can’t walk me all the way to Horsforth, that’s miles. And how will you get back to Tadcaster?”

  “Details,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “It’s too late for a drink elsewhere apart from a club and you can’t talk in those places. But if we walk, we can also talk.”

  “All right, compromise, we walk until we get tired, then we can get a cab.”

  We stepped out onto the street, into a navy black night that was spotted with neon street lights. I inhaled deeply, the chilled air shooting through my nose and setting my insides alight with cold. We walked along the empty street in silence, paused at the end of the block to check for traffic, then crossed. It was past midnight and I hadn’t come even close to doing what I’d set out to do. As we continued down the road toward Hyde Park I stole a look up at Nate. His line of sight was fixed on the horizon, his hands deep in his pockets.

  “I can feel you watching me,” he said, and halted, turned to me. I stopped too. “I remember how often you used to do that, especially when you thought I was asleep.”

  “You knew?”

  A short nod of his head, a small smile playing on his lips.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I liked it. Why would I stop something that I liked?”

  Nate took a step closer, still staring at me, his hands reached out. “Look at you,” he murmured, his white breath curling up and away into the night as he spoke. I expected him to take my face in his hands, instead, he pulled my collar from inside my coat. He patted the wide triangles down in place, all the while staring into my eyes. I was transfixed, hypnotized by him. He gave a small laugh, his smile widened, turning him into the man I’d lived with. “Look at you,” he breathed again. His hands slid down, across my collarbone and then down, between my breasts to the top button of my coat. “You’re done up wrong.” I glanced down. In my haste to leave the restaurant, I’d done up my coat buttons incorrectly. I looked up into his eyes.

  “Oh,” I said with a small laugh that died halfway through its tiny existence.

  His eyes fixed on mine, Nate’s nimble fingers gently undid the first button. His fingers brushed down the wool and cashmere mix of my coat to the next button, he pulled that one open. His fingers continued down my body, until they reached the next button and then again, until the final button was open. Once my coat was open, Nate pulled it together again, then slowly buttoned it up.

  “Thanks,” I murmured, my breathing labored from, I told myself, the thinness of the cold air. Not from lust and longing. Not from wanting him to kiss me.

  “Not a problem,” he said. He moved closer. Near enough for me to smell the aftershave on his skin; feel the rise and fall of his chest. He raised his hands and adjusted my collars, smoothed them into place but didn’t take his hands away. He dipped his head. “Kam,” he whispered as his lips touched mine.

  “Ryn,” I said automatically, pulling away.

  Nate pulled his head away too, his eyes searching mine.

  “You’re not going to make me call you by your full name, are you?” he asked.

  “No, it’s just no one calls me Kam anymore, it’s Ryn.”

  “I’m not going to call you what he calls you.”

  “It wasn’t him who started it,” I replied.

  Nate’s lips grazed mine again and for a second, I wanted to fall into it. To let it happen. To kiss him.

  I pulled back again. “Nate,” I interrupted, “I need to tell you something.”

  “After,” he replied, moving in to continue the kiss.

  “No.” I moved my head and his lips hit my chin. “I need to tell you something,” I insisted.

  Nate scrunched up his eyes as he lowered his head. He took his hands off me and rubbed his face. He always did that when he was nervous or agitated. Eventually, he reopened himself to me. “I don’t want to hear that you’re going to marry him,” he said, clenching his fists. “I can’t hear that you’re going to marry him.”

  “This has nothing to do with Luke,” I said, seeing him flinch at the mention of my lover’s name.

  “Go on, then,” he said, steeling himself.

  “I don’t know how to say this…I think we need to sit down,” I said.

  “OK,” he agreed. “There’s a park down the road.”

  We walked the ten minutes to Hyde Park in silence, then sat on a bench not far from the entrance. The wind swirled around us, nipping at our already chilled skin. Nate sat facing forward but close to me, trying to leech some of my body heat. I sat with my body slightly turned toward him.

  “It’s about Tegan,” I began.

  Nate swivelled toward me, a frown on his face. “Adele’s daughter?”

  I nodded, paused, hoped it’d sink in right then and there. He was a clever guy, why would I be bringing Tegan up if he wasn’t her father?

  His eyes suddenly lit up with knowledge, dispersing the frown. “Oh, God,” he murmured. “I’m such an idiot.” He slapped his forehead. “That was her, wasn’t it? That little girl the other day, that was Tegan. I didn’t even recognize her. I was just so…” He waved his hand in the air near his head. “I was all over the place because you were there. Shit. That was her. She’s so grown up. How is she after…? You know, with everything?”

  I was surprised at his concern. Nate had never shown much interest in Tegan before. He’d babysit with me sometimes, he’d occasionally read her a bedtime story, but he and she never had that much in common. “She’s OK. We have our off days and our better days, I’m meant to be getting her counseling.”

  “You’re meant to be getting her counseling?”

  I nodded. “Tegan lives with me. I’m bringing her up. I’m her legal guardian.”

  “You are?” Nate was
incredulous.

  I bristled. “Yes, me. What of it?”

  He reached out, rested a calming hand on my forearm.

  “I didn’t mean anything, it’s just, we were both determined not to have children and now you’re her legal guardian. It’s more than I could do.”

  “There was no one else. And I’m her godmother, and I had to take on the responsibility no matter what I thought my life was going to be like. She was always precious to me and there was no one else.”

  “You’re a better person than I am. Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

  I shook my head. “It’s about Tegan’s father.”

  His eyebrows lurched up in surprise. “Her father? Is he around? Did you find out who he was?”

  I nodded.

  “And is he going to be involved in Tegan’s life?”

  “I don’t know, I haven’t told him yet. I can’t find the right words. I don’t know how he’ll take it.”

  “Not very well, I’d imagine,” Nate mused. “Do you want me to come with you? Is that what you’re trying to say? Because I will. It’s the least I could do. For you and for…for Adele.”

  “Oh my God, Nathaniel, when did you get so thick?” I snapped.

  “I don’t understand,” he said.

  “Nate, it’s you. You’re Tegan’s father.”

  chapter 32

  Tegan’s face moved in sleep. Her lips were slightly open, her hair hidden under the pink silk scarf. I liked watching her sleep. Sometimes I’d creep in here and watch her dark blond lashes flutter against the soft skin under her eyes, her pupils moving rapidly under her eyelids as she dreamed. That was one of the privileges I had now that she was in my care. I could keep a curious vigil of her sleep. Bask in how beautiful she was. How peaceful she looked. How well she was growing up.

  I turned away, a lump in my throat: she looked like Nate when she was asleep. Awake she was a mini Adele; slumbering she wore her father’s face.

  It was past 4 a.m. I’d let myself into the flat a couple of minutes ago and sneaked straight in to check that Tegan was all right. She was, of course. I sniffed back a drizzle of snot—all that hanging about outside was giving me a cold. It wasn’t only that, though. Conflicting, confusing emotions that coursed through me with the velocity of a recently undammed river were fighting to be released as a torrent of tears. I reached into my pocket for a tissue, and my fingers nudged up against my tights, which I’d hastily shoved in there before I got a cab home from Nate’s place. A new wave of tears swelled in my eyes as I thought of the brave smile on his face as he kissed me goodbye. How am I going to explain all this to Luke?