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I don’t want to break up with him over the phone, but it would be impossible to do it in person. I’m just not strong enough. So I’m going to have to do my best.
My stomach churns, because I know this isn’t going to be easy. I feel sick, and I’m already near tears. Not, I think, because I’m breaking up with him, but because I can’t bear to face the emotional recriminations and blackmail I know are coming. But there’s no way around it. I have to do it. For Henry.
I dial his number and wait, heart pounding.
He answers after a few rings. “Lettie!” It’s his pet name for me. I’ve never liked it.
“Hey,” I say softly.
“Are you back?” he asks.
“Yeah, got in about half an hour ago.”
“I’m so sorry I haven’t called you,” he says, “but I didn’t want to spoil the wedding for you.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“It’s been an awful few days here. Jesus, where to start? Alan left on Thursday, and Pete flew out on Friday morning, so Mum and Dad were already a bit low. I was going to go back to the apartment, but I decided to stay on a day or two and spend some time with them. Then yesterday we got a call from Alan’s wife—he had a heart attack on the fucking plane, just before it landed.”
My jaw drops. “A heart attack? He’s only thirty!” I’m not totally surprised—Alan is overweight, smokes, does no exercise, and drinks like a fish, but even so, it’s still quite shocking.
“I know, what are the fucking odds? They rushed him to hospital and he’s having surgery today.”
“Jesus, I’m so sorry. How’s your mum?”
“Well that’s the thing…” I hear footsteps and the sound of a sliding door opening—he’s going into the garden. The door slides shut before he speaks. “She totally lost the plot yesterday. So upset. We had to call the doctor to come and sedate her. She’s a bit better today, but it was awful—she was hysterical, crying non-stop.”
“Oh no.”
“Can you come over?” he asks. “You’re so good with her, there’s something calming about you. She’ll be better if you’re here.”
I cover my face with a hand. It’s a terribly selfish thing to think, but this couldn’t be more awful timing. What kind of person would it make me if I tell him I’m breaking up with him now?
“I’m sorry,” he says, “I forgot to ask, how was the wedding?”
I flush as I think about the nights I’ve spent with Henry, his hot mouth searing my skin. The way he had me up against the window, in full view of anyone who cared to look. Oh this is so hard. Why, when I’m with Henry, do I know he’s all I want, but as soon as I’m with Cam I feel as if I’ve cheated on him?
“It was fine,” I say. “Look, I’ll pack a few things and come over. I’ll be there in twenty.”
“Thank you,” he says with relief. “I’ve missed you so much, you know.”
I can’t return the sentiment. “I’ll be there soon, bye.”
I end the call, toss the phone onto the table, flop back onto the sofa, and cover my face with my hands. This is so fucking shit. I’m just the worst person in the universe. Henry is expecting me to end it today. What’s he going to think when I tell him I’m going over there? I’m not going to start our relationship off with a lie. I’m going to have to tell him.
On cue, my phone buzzes on the table, and when I look at the screen I see it’s a message from him.
Thanks for a great time. Miss you already. Happy New Year.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I pick up the phone and dial his number. Then I lie back with a cushion over my face.
“Hello?” he asks. “That was quick.”
I take the cushion off. “Hey. Where are you?”
“At home. Going over to my folks in a few hours. What are you up to?”
