Sleeping soundly with the locket that she gave you
Clutched in your fist
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Phoebe and Bo's pictures hit the internet that very same night.
And despite the time zone difference, Paul saw them almost immediately.
48 seconds after they went viral to be exact, as he had been compulsively Googling their names together, in an attempt to find happy news where he knew he couldn't find them anymore.
A single tear started to brew at the corner of his eye when he noticed Bo's hand against the small of Phoebe's back.
Suddenly, a text.
His heart skipped a beat as he cautiously checked his phone, in hopes it would be her, in hopes she'd still be his wife.
It was someone else, a familiar name that always felt like home.
"Just saw the news. I'm sorry."
Even in quiet desperation for a burning love she might never admit, not even to herself, Daisy was truly sorry, as if she was the one mistaken, the one to break his heart.
She would never understand Phoebe. All her complexities, her indecision, her hesitation before she finally said "Yes".
Paul was kind, and beautiful. Her best friend, and her one true love.
How could he not be enough? To Daisy, he was worth all the men that had roamed the Earth since the beginning of time. Unlike Phoebe, she'd marry him in this lifetime and for all eternity.
His Herculean profile glistened in her memory as she closed her eyes, remembering the very first kiss they shared during a chemistry read.
His lips were cool, soft, and powdery. Like Turkish delights on a cold winter night. His hands, strong and knowing, caressed her face and owned, almost immediately, her heart.
Daisy also got a text, the name "Tom Varey" shining on her screen.
She had never bothered to change the name to something familiar, or to any of the many terms of endearment she would so easily give away to the people that she loved.
Tom was a sweet soft-spoken actor she had met and started dating only a few months before she first auditioned for the unnamed project that later became Normal People.
He sadly reminded her of Paul, making it impossible to move on, creating instead a Silly Putty stand-in, a body double that could never be the main star.
She realised this when, on a hot summer day, her and Tom had a picnic together. After much heartache from Paul being away filming in Turkey, Daisy was beginning to feel something reminiscing of love. But then, Tom wore the sunglasses she had gifted him on his birthday.
Their likeness was uncanny.
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From time to time, Daisy secretly revisited the paparazzi pictures of that day, imagining it was them.
Seeing could read the headlines so easily, they almost felt real.
Sally Rooney's sweethearts Paul Mescal and Daisy Edgar-Jones seen at London Fields confirming their love to the world. Click for the exclusive pictures!
She wondered if Tom, consciously or blissfully unaware, tried to look like him that day.
How shameful and wrong this all felt, but she had to feel close to Paul.
Even if just in daydreams.
***
Paul's London flat overlooked the theatre where he was currently set to play Tennessee Williams' "A Streetcar Named Desire" stelar role, Stanley Kowalski. A broken man portrayed by another broken man, Marlon Brando, in the 1951 film adaptation of the same name.
The winter rain crashing against the window caused Paul's reflection to transform and multiply, producing several shapes that looked more than just himself. He felt as if all the thespians that had played this role before him, were standing right by his side.
In the most beautiful way, he was not alone. He'd never be alone again. The silver screen giants that had stepped on the same shoes would now walk beside him every step of the way.
It reminded him of how he used to wear his dad's play costumes as a kid, daydreaming of one day following his steps as a part-time actor. Yet here he was, here they were. He imagined holding his dad's hand with pride, realising his accomplishments and how far they've come.
The energy he felt was so electric, it almost shocked him out of his pain.
Phoebe didn't recharge her phone until the following morning, once the tabloids and social media had trialed and convicted her as a witch. She was afraid, but unsurprised.
She thought of Maxine, and how she'd now forever wonder why Paul never came back home to play and give her surprise treats before falling asleep together on the couch, her puppy drool all over his face.
In a swirl of emotion, and despite being sober for over seven years, Phoebe picked up the bottle and had the first sip of many.
