does a loop-the-loop again.
‘Sometimes.’ I shrug, trying to sound casual.
OK, so that’s a fib, but I’m not going to admit the truth now, am I? That I can’t stop thinking about him.
‘Really?’ He looks pleased. ‘I thought you might have forgotten all about me.’
‘Trust me, I tried.’ I manage a half-smile and he blushes.
‘Yeah, I didn’t behave very well at the end, did I?’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ I take another gulp of wine, relishing the feeling of it weaving its way down into my stomach, soothing my jittery nerves. ‘We were so young, and long-distance relationships never work out, do they? It was just one of those things. Inevitable, really. And breaking up with someone is never easy.’
Er, hello. Since when did I develop this super-mature attitude?
‘I was a jerk, let’s face it.’ He flashes me a rueful smile.
‘OK, you were a jerk.’ I nod in agreement.
He laughs, his face crinkling up, and despite myself I can’t help but laugh too. It’s strange, but after all this time, all the years, all the wondering, the old hurt seems to melt away and it’s just me and Nate sitting at the bar, like two old friends having a drink. Maybe it’s true that time is a great healer.
Or maybe it’s just the red wine.
‘So . . .’ he says.
I watch him fingering the stem of his wine glass, as if he’s thinking hard about something. Then I notice. sspan>He’s not wearing a wedding ring. It shoots out at me, like an arrow. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind I vaguely remember Magda mentioning it, but I didn’t pay much attention – she was talking about a stranger. At least, I thought she was talking about a stranger.
I stare at his empty finger. Maybe he’s taken if off and forgotten to put it back on. Or he could have lost it. Or maybe he’s one of those guys who doesn’t wear one, like my dad, who told Mum when they got married that he’d never worn jewellery and he wasn’t going to start now. I think he even said the word ‘poof’, but the less said about that, the better.
Even as I’m thinking all these things, buried deep, down inside me a burst of hope is exploding in my chest like a firework.
‘Tell me . . .’
I snap back to see him looking at me.
‘ . . . how long have you been in New York?’
The conversation seems to have moved away from dangerous ground and back to pleasantries. I feel a beat of relief.
‘Not long, just a few weeks.’ I take a sip of wine.
Don’t let him see you looking at his wedding finger, pipes up a voice inside my head. Startled, I quickly avert my eyes.
‘Wow, so you’re new in town like me.’ He smiles. ‘What do you think so far?’
‘I love it.’ I smile, holding out my glass as he gives me a top-up.
It’s very important I don’t ask him about being married. I have to appear unconcerned. Like I’m not curious at all. Like I haven’t even thought about it in years.
‘Yeah, it’s an amazing city. I visit a lot for work, but I’ve never lived here before.’
‘Oh, really?’
Or tried to Google his wife to see what she looks like.
‘Yeah, so I’m kinda excited to explore, get a real feel for it, instead of just being a tourist.’
And found nothing. Not even one lousy photo. I mean, you think she’d at least be on Facebook.
‘So, how’s married life?’
It’s like an Exocet missile. Fired without warning from out of my mouth, it shoots straight at him and crash-lands on the bar. For a moment I have the weird sensation of being completely disconnected, an observer, an innocent bystander.
Then it hits me.
Oh my God, I did not just say that. I did not just say that.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
There’s a pause as Nathaniel takes a sip of his wine. It’s like the moment between the crash and the impact. That stunned split second as you brace yourself for the inevitable.
Putting down his glass, he meets my eyes.
Please don’t say it’s wonderful. I cross my fingers under the bar. I mean, you can say it’s good, and you’re happy and all that, and I’ll be pleased, really I will, but please don’t go on and on about how wonderful it is, how wonderful she is.
‘We’re getting divorced.’
Now it’s his turn to launch a missile. Boom. Just like that.
I look at him incredulously. I was prepared for a dozen different answers, but