Oh my...This sofa is so soft. I don't think I've ever slept on such a comfortable sofa in my entire life. I stretch out happily, snuggling into the cushions like a child. I'm so glad I bought this...
And then I realise that it's not mine. But that it's Danny's. I just slept at Danny's. Well done, Emie. Just fuel the fire, why don't you?I groan and sit up. Where the hell is he? Oh. He's in the kitchen. I remember him telling me that. But before I get a chance to get up, he pops his head into the room.
“Alright, Sleeping Beauty?” he teases, laughing as I flip him the bird. “Such a graceful awakening. I'm honoured to be a part of it.”
“Fuck off.”
He hands me a mug, and I roll my eyes. Tea. Why would I think anything other than that? But then I catch a whiff of it, and realise that it's definitely not tea. I look down and see that it is, in fact, gravy. But how...
“Glen drinks it all the time after a heavy night. Told us that it was because he saw you drinking it one morning after getting trashed. So...you know...”
I'm not really sure how to take that. I mean, it's sweet that Danny just happens to know what I need. But the fact that he found out through Glen...I sigh and smile tiredly at him.
“Thanks.”
He takes a seat on the armchair to my right and just looks at me. Jeez. Talk about uncomfortable.
“So,” he eventually drawls out. “Can we talk about this?”
“I don't really know where to start.”
“Well, where you stand with Glen is probably a good place.”
I'm not really sure that he can ask me those kinds of questions. I don't even know him, but he thinks he has the right to talk to me like that.
“I...”
“I'm not asking because it's any of my business. I know it's not. But you don't seem to be in a good head-space right now, and quite frankly, I'm the only one you've got right now. So, you know. I'm trying to help you.”
Well. Okay then. I didn't really think about that. And he's right. I'm not in a good place. And I guess he would be the logical choice in who to talk to.
“You're right,” I reluctantly admit, taking a deep breath. “I just...I don't know where I stand with him. He's like a stranger to me nowadays. A stranger that cares far too much about what it is I do.”
“He will never be a stranger to you. You know far too much about him, and him about you.”
“I don't know anything about the man that he's become.”
“He isn't any different.”
“Yes he is. You didn't know him back when we were together. I can't explain it, but it seems like he's just so cold toward me now.” He goes to open his mouth but I shake my head. “I'm not saying that he's still in love with me. I'm certain that he isn't. Eight years is far too long to keep held onto something like that. But he hasn't forgiven me for what I did.”
“What did you do?”
“You know what happened.”
“I've heard his side of the story. I want to hear it from you.”
“Why?”
“How many people have you talked to about it? I mean, really talked about it.”
No one. No one apart from those involved know what happened all those years ago between us. I haven't ever felt the need to delve back into that moment. It's always been too painful.
