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I’m glad I called Juliette, but I feel uneasy. It’s rare for her not to answer her phone. I hope she’s okay. But there’s nothing I can do about it now. She’s not my responsibility. She’s Cam’s, and I have to get used to that.
I watch Tyson talking to Gaby, feeling more than a little envious as he smiles somewhat bashfully, then laughs at something she’s said.
Our food arrives, and I steal a couple of his fries. Serves him right for being so fucking happy.
*
Juliette
On Saturday morning, I’m sitting in the corner of the coffee shop in The Garden Hotel, sipping a latte, when Gaby walks in. She spots me and comes over, and I stand up to give her a big hug.
When she moves back, she gives me an appraising look, but she just says, “You want anything to eat?”
“No, thanks.”
“Okay. I’ll just get a coffee.” She goes up and places her order, then comes back and sits opposite me. “Thanks for agreeing to see me,” she says.
I study my coffee. She rang me last night and asked to meet up. Initially, I said no, but she told me that Tyson had called her, and he’d been speaking to Henry, and she said, “Girl, I know you’re in trouble. Please, talk to me.”
It wasn’t long after my call to Henry, and I’d been too upset at the time, so I suggested we meet up today. I’d half-dreaded having to see her and go through it all, but now I’m here, I find myself quite relieved to be talking to a friend who has nothing but my best interests at heart.
“I’m sorry to be so cloak and dagger,” I reply.
She looks around. “Why are we meeting here?”
“I’m staying here.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Why?”
“I knew Cam would come around if I went to the apartment, and I don’t want to see him. I need some time alone.”
“Aw,” she says, her forehead creasing. “Sweetie. I know you’re pregnant—Henry told Tyson. Come on, tell me. What’s going on?”
I explain everything. That Henry and I have been seeing each other. About Cam’s brother and mother being unwell. And that Cam wants us to stay together for the baby’s sake, and that he wants to move to Australia.
“There is a university in Melbourne that offers a Masters of Clinical Prosthetics and Orthotics,” I tell her. “He’d rather go to Sydney, but he said he’d compromise and move to Melbourne for me.”
She tips her head to the side. “Do you want to go?”
“The course sounds interesting.”
We study each other for a moment.
“Do you still love him?” she asks.
I bite my lip and look away, out of the window. It’s a blustery summer’s day, and the clouds are scudding across the bright blue sky. It’s just gone ten—Henry and Tyson will be starting their presentation soon. I hope it goes well for them.
I look back at her. “Not in the way I used to.”
“Do you love Henry?”
“Yes,” I say, without hesitation.
“Well, then. You deserve to be happy, sweetie.”
I swallow hard. “But he told me he wouldn’t want to bring up another man’s child.”
He rang me yesterday and left a message. It was wonderful to hear his voice. He apologized for hanging up on me and said he hoped we could catch up when he gets back.
