It's easier to tell a lie than it is to tell the truth,
It's easier to kill a fly than it is to turn it loose,
It's easier to criticise somebody else,
Than it is to see yourself.
'That'll be the day, when you say goodbye, yeah, that'll be the day, when you make me cry-'
Sick humour, impromptu choruses of Buddy Holly songs and joy. Unfiltered, unbridled, glad to be alive joy. We're okay. I'm okay. George, Minnie, we're all okay.
As soon as we're back on the ground the teasing starts, the jokes, playing it down. The plane landed, shakily, but intact, fire engines and police cars waiting for us. Minnie grabbed hold of me like I was a runaway toddler, Cat wanted to call her boyfriend, John demanded brandy - everyone could do with a drink - but there's no time for anything. We have to get to the venue for the shows.
There are Beatle fans at the airport. They're quieter than usual. I wonder if they knew what happened, if they saw the smoke from the plane. The boy's cars are waiting for them. We'd usually travel separately, somewhere behind them, but in the noise and chaos of landing, someone decides we can all go together. Probably just to get us out of the airport. We squeeze into a car. There's room for six in the back, and there's eight of us, but no ones complains about the lack of elbow room. I'm squeezed in near to one of the doors. Minnie on one side, George still on the other.
'You were crying!'
'I was not!'
'There were tears in your eyes!'
'Fuck off, you were screaming like a little girl!'
'You were too!'
'John tried to open the bloody door!'
'What were you gonna do, John? Float down to the ground?'
'I wasn't worried.'
'Like hell you weren't!'
'Minnie was worse. Did you see her?!'
Minnie just smiles, like she's above it all, like what they're saying doesn't touch her, but she's not left my side since we set foot back on the ground. Her arm is still wrapped around my neck, like it has been since we were allowed to unfasten the aeroplane seat belts. She looks at me and I grin at her. I feel like I haven't seen Minnie properly for ages. She's been around, but the only proper conversation we've had was when she asked me if I was pregnant. It's since I got married. I've not seen her as much, I've lost touch with her. I don't even know what's going on in her life. I resolve, silently, that after this tour I will make more time for Minnie. Sod Ricky and everything else.
'I feel sick.'
'How do you think we'll get to LA? Tonight?'
'We'll probably fly.'
'What? Really?'
'How do you think we'd get there? We can't exactly walk.'
I turn around, twisting out of Minnie's headlock. Cat is in the opposite corner from where I sit. I try to catch her eye but she's not looking. She's sitting with Bet, with her head down. She's quiet, not joining in with everyone. She still looks shell shocked, a bit tearful.
I feel awful because Cat and I hadn't spoken much after last night. If we had crashed - if that had been the end - and it could have been, couldn't it? Then those silly things we said, about George over the monopoly board, that would have been the last things we'd said to each other.
Bet turns her head and says something in Cat's ear. Cat glances at her and smiles faintly, before resting her head on her shoulder.
'Couldn't we drive? Get cars or a bus or something?'
'It'd take too long.'
'Besides, it's not likely that it would happen again, is it? Catch fire like that?'
'Not likely, but possible.'
'Shut up, you.'
'I'm just saying-'
'Yeah, well, no one wants to hear it.'
George sits on the other side of me. He still looks sick too. His face went a deathly white colour on the plane and it's not regained it's colour quite yet. I've never seen him like that. I think he was genuinely terrified. He's grinning now, everyone is, feeling silly, embarrassed about how frightened we were, but we're all still shaken. He notices me looking at him and gives me a small smile, slipping his hand into mine.
'Alright?' he asks, quietly, nearly whispering.
I nod, returning his smile.
'I'm sorry,' he says. 'For... On the plane, I...'
I'm not sure what he's trying to apologise for. I shake my head. 'It's okay. We were all scared.' I squeeze his hand.
'I bet you nearly pissed yourself,' Paul says to George from where he sits, opposite us. He idly taps George's foot with his own.
George looks at him and pulls his face. 'And you were totally fine? Not worried in the least,' he replies, his voice different when he speaks to Paul.
'Where did you go anyway? You were sitting next to me, but you weren't there when everything kicked off.'
'He was probably trying to find a parachute,' John says.
George laughs, but it sounds false. 'I was next to Hannah. I had to hold her hand.'
'Other way round, more like,' Paul says. He leans forward to me. 'George was scared of flying even before we nearly nose dived into the ground. We might have to sedate him tonight, when we have to fly to Los Angeles.'
'Do we have to fly there?' George replies. 'And I'm not scared of flying, thanks, Paul.'
Paul laughs. 'Yeah, we have to fly. What do you want to do? Take the horses?'
'But the plane's knackered now, isn't it? It won't go.'
'I suspect we'll get another one.'
George sighs, not happy. The others laugh at him.
'You're sitting next to me from now on,' Minnie tells me. 'I'm not letting you out of my sight.'
'Min, don't be daft. What difference does it make? What would you have done?'
'Kept you safe.'
'That's irrational, Minnie.'
'I'll hold your hand. Better me, anyway.' She looks at where George's hand is still on top of mine. He follows her eye line and takes his hand back, like he'd forgotten it was there.
*
'I can't do this,' Minnie says, under her breath, almost inaudibly.
I turn around to her. I don't know if she meant me to hear or not, but her eyes meet mine. There's that look there again. A look that I can't really describe, but I've grown used to seeing it. There's fear in there, but more too.
I look around at Cat and Bet in front of me. They didn't hear. They stand there, purple dresses, matching hairstyles, waiting. Two minutes, less, til we go on.
'Minnie,' I whisper back to her, a warning tone.
'I can't,' she says, desperate. 'I can't, I'm sorry.'
She takes a small step backwards. I grab her hand and grip it tightly, partly for support, partly to keep her here, to stop her running away.
'Hannah,' she whines, trying to pull away from me.
I refuse to let her go. 'He's not there,' I say, quietly. 'Min, there's no one out there, except for Beatle fans. You're alright.' A weak smile.
'It's not that...'
'What, then?' I glance sideways at her. 'The plane?'
No one feels like doing this today. It wasn't until we got to the Coliseum that it really dawned on me that we were still expected to perform today. Two shows. We thought we might be about to die only a few hours ago. Now we have to sing and smile and dance and it's all too much for anyone.
'No, I... Yes... I don't know,' Minnie replies. 'I just...'
'The fabulous RAINDROPS!' The compare from the stage, doing his best over the noise of the audience.
Bet and Cat step out onto the stage. I look around at Minnie. She gives me a slight nod, but her eyes are still wide, white, frightened. We follow them onto the stage. The music starts before we've reached the microphones. I've still got her hand. I can feel her tugging away from me, but I refuse to let go.
We take our places and Cat starts to sing. Minnie keeps glancing to the side of the stage. I look too, but I can't see what she's looking at, what she's searching for. Cat reaches the chorus. We sing the backing here, but only Bet and I sing. Minnie doesn't. I step back, breaking into her eye line. She moves her eyes to me and smiles weakly. On the next lyric, Minnie sings with us. I remain holding her hand throughout.
*
A new plane is hired to take us to Los Angeles. One bigger than the last one, but it doesn't really look any firmer, any safer. It's been dark for hours by the time we board it. I can't decide whether it's better to fly in the day or at night. At least in the dark, we'll see it right away, if the engine goes up in flames.
'...Han?'
I shake my head, as I realise George was speaking to me. He's sitting in front of me this time, on his own, but turned sideways to talk to me, his back against the window. He's obscured by the seat headrest in between us. He sits up and leans closer.
'Sorry,' I say. 'I was... miles away. What did you say?'
George smiles wryly. 'I wish we were miles away,' he says wistfully, then nods towards Minnie, sitting next to me. 'Is she okay?'
I have to draw back to see Minnie properly. She rests her head low on my shoulder, eyes closed, my arm around her. I can feel pins and needles growing, but I won't move. She needs to sleep. She'll be better after she's rested.
Our roles have reversed since the show this afternoon. Now I'm the one looking after her, holding her hand, trying to soothe and say the right things when she gets that wild look in her eye again. I nod to George and smooth Minnie's hair for her, like I used to when we were kids and she was upset or poorly, or just sad.
We made it though the two shows together. I was so busy keeping tabs on Minnie, I've no idea if we sounded alright or not. I don't even know if my voice held up. My throat is a little sore now. That could be down to the flu or just everything else that's happened.
'It's... strange seeing Minnie like this. It's disconcerting,' George says. 'She's normally so...'
'Yeah, I know.' I give him a small smile.
'Is she upset because of the plane, earlier?'
'Partly, I think,' I say, quietly. 'She just gets... anxious sometimes.' I don't know how much George knows about Minnie and what's happened with her. Up until today, she's been alright on this tour. The influence of John, I wonder. Maybe the medication she takes is working. I would perhaps tell George more about it if it was just us, on our own. I would trust him to keep it to himself, but I can't say anything here.
George sighs. He pulls his feet up on to the seat and wraps his arms around his knees. Most people are asleep tonight, but I don't think there's much chance of George nodding off. He's too alert, apprehensive. He checks his watch, the third time in as many minutes and gives me a half smile.
'Are you alright?' I ask him.
He nods, but his eyes say otherwise.
'I didn't know you were scared of flying.'
'I'm not,' he says a little quickly, a little defensively, then adds more gently, 'I can just think of about a thousand different things I'd rather do instead, that's all. Like having my teeth pulled out. Or rolling around in a bed of nettles.'
I laugh. 'You must fly all the time. Surely you're used to it by now?'
'Just because you do something a lot, doesn't mean you have to like it.'
'No,' I agree, looking out of the window into the darkness again. 'No, it doesn't.'
'Hannah, I'm sorry about... What John said, the other day. When we were playing cards.'
I look back at him, surprised. Irritatingly, I can feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment. 'It's okay,' I say, quietly. 'It's just John... being John, isn't it?'
'Yeah, but...' George swallows. Hard. I see his Adam's apple rise and fall with it. He looks away, around the plane. 'If I said something like that about him and Minnie, he'd probably lamp me one.' Eyes back to me. Those beautiful, soft, brown eyes. 'They all just think they know about us,' he says, his voice low. 'They don't. I haven't said anything. I haven't told anybody about what happened... I haven't told anybody about us.'
'I didn't think you would have, George.'
'I wouldn't,' he says, firmly. He gives a small sigh but smiles at me. He coughs to clear his throat. 'What time do you think we'll get there?' he asks, the tone of his voice changing. He checks his watch again.
'Can't be much longer now.'
'No. No, I suppose...' He puts his hands on his knees and drums his fingers, glancing around the plane. 'How long do you think it'll take to get out to the house?'
'Where is it?'
'Beverley Hills somewhere.'
I shake my head. 'I don't know. You'll have a car to take you though.'
'You might as well come with us again. Like before. No point in travelling separate.'
'We're not going to the house with you. We're staying at a hotel, downtown.'
George frowns. 'Are you? Why aren't you staying with us? There's room, I think.'
I shrug. 'I suppose it was all arranged before.'
'Oh,' George says, flatly. 'Well. I'll miss you then.'
I smile. 'No, you won't. You won't even notice.'
'Course I will. I... I've got used to you being around,' he smiles, and for a moment when our eyes meet neither of us speak. George glances away sharply. ' You and the other girls, y'know,' he adds, quickly. 'It'll be strange without you. I don't know why you aren't staying with us? You've stayed with us so far. You'll come out and visit though, won't you?'
'You can always come and visit us.'
George twists his mouth. 'Hmm, yeah, I'd love to, but I imagine this rented house will be a very nice, luxurious, tastefully decorated prison.'
'We'll have to come to you then.'
George opens his mouth to speak, then changes his mind. 'We've got five days off,' he says eventually.
'Yes, I know.' I can't help grinning at him. There's something he wants to say, I can see it in his face.
'Perhaps... I don't know.'
'What?'
'No, just being daft.'
'What?' I repeat.
'Maybe we could go somewhere. For a cuppa tea or something. Us two. Away from... It's just all...' He puts his hands together, slotting his fingers tightly. 'A bit close.'
I know what I should say. I should say no. I should say, Oh, we could try to but I might be a bit busy. I should say, They won't let you out on your own though, will they? Instead, I reply, 'That would be nice.'
*
We arrive in Los Angeles just before midnight. The flight was short and thankfully, uneventful. It's after one when we get to our hotel. The boys and their entourage have travelled outside of the city to the house they're renting. It's strange being back in our small group of five again. It seems so quiet.
It's been a long day. Every day on this tour has been a long day, but this one has been the longest yet. Just over twenty-four hours ago, I was playing board games with Cat and George, having silly squabbles with Cat over nothing, worrying about Ricky being pissed off because I haven't rung him. I still haven't called him. I haven't had the heart. It all feels so trivial.
The plane fire this morning, did we all just panic and over react? It didn't feel like it at the time. It felt like it could happen. It felt like we could have died. I held onto George like I was about to. It could only have lasted a few minutes. Everything has changed though. It's all different now. Nothing that discernible, but it has. Everything's changed.
It's frustrating how long it takes to check into the hotel. It's the early hours of the morning and there are no other guests in the hotel reception, but it still takes forever. We're all tired, getting irritable. Cat's still quiet. I haven't had the chance to speak to her yet, say sorry for yesterday. When we go up to the rooms, she flings her arms around my neck and squeezes me tightly. Giving me a tired smile when she releases me, she disappears into her room next door to ours.
I'm sharing a room with Minnie again. I've been deemed healthy enough. Minnie waits for me inside our room, sitting with her legs crossed, perched on the end of one of the beds, leaning back and resting her weight on her hands. There's a somber, serious look on her face, which is more than just weariness. She's not started to get ready for bed yet. She's only taken her jacket off. She's not even taken her shoes off.
I close the door behind me. She watches me as I start to unbutton my jacket.
'He's not your boyfriend, Hannah,' she says, flatly.
I sigh. I turn away as if I'm going to ignore her, removing my jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair.
'Hannah,' Minnie repeats.
'Yes, I know he isn't,' I say, irritated. 'That's a ridiculous thing to say, Minnie.'
She's clearly over the attack of nerves she had earlier. It doesn't typically take Minnie long to recover, once we're outside of a theatre or an arena.
'You know who I'm talking about though, don't you? It's not Paul. It's not Ringo.'
'Do we really need to do this? Now? I just want to brush my teeth and go to sleep.'
'You're spending a lot of time together. You're -'
'We're on tour. We're travelling together. How can we not spend time together?'
'You're always in a little huddle with him, whispering and laughing. Holding hands with him.'
'No, I'm not,' I say, quietly.
'It's not me who's noticed it. It's all of them. John and Cat and...'
'They haven't noticed anything because there's nothing to notice...'
'I defended you! I said you - you of all people - wouldn't do something like that.'
'Me of all people? What's that supposed to mean?'
'But tonight, on the plane, you thought I was asleep and you and George, you were... you were...talking, laughing, arranging to meet up. You've been doing it all day. Flirting.'
She says that like it's a dirty word. I sigh. 'We were not. I've been with you, haven't I?'
'And what's happened? He said he hasn't told anyone about "what happened". What the hell has happened?'
'Nothing. He was talking about... About before. Years ago. Minnie, we're just friends. Isn't that what you always tell me about you and John? "We're just good friends."'
That stops her. She bites the inside of her cheek. 'That's different-'
'How?' I demand, my voice rising involuntarily. 'How is it? You're a hypocrite, Min. John is married. You're "friends" with him, but I really am just friends with George. You sleep in the same bed as John. You must think we're all blind and dumb if you don't realise we know what's going on-'
Minnie stands up, her face flushing red. It takes a lot to rile her up. There's only a couple of things that push her buttons. John is clearly one of the buttons.
'Shut up, Hannah. It is different. I have no illusions about John. I don't expect him to leave his wife for me. Whatever's between us... It ends when this tour ends. And that's fine by me and it's fine for him too.'
I fold my arms over my chest and shake my head at her. Every time. Every time we talk about this, about John, she denies it. Does she think I'm that stupid? Who does she think she's fooling?
'That's such bollocks, Minnie.'
I expect more angry denials and rebuttals. Instead, she just smiles at me.
'Do you know what he was doing on the plane earlier? When it was on fire? He wrote a letter to his wife. A note, because he thought we were about to crash and die and all he wanted to do was tell her that he loved her. That's... That's all anyone needs to know about me and John.'
She turns away from me. I don't know what to say. What is there to say to that?
'I can't even resent him for it, can I? I can't be pissed off about it, because that's the way it's meant to be. If you think you might die... Tell my wife I love her.'
'John said that?'
She shakes her head. I don't know if that means no, or if she's just trying to shake the thoughts from her mind. 'But you...' she says, turning back to me. 'You and George... I know you. You'll lose your heart to him and then when-'
'Minnie, seriously,' I say, but gentler now. 'There isn't any "me and George."'
'But Han...'
'Since when were you so concerned about me anyway? About my marriage? Since when did you care?'
'Of course I care-'
'Really? About me and Ricky? I feel like I've only seen you a handful of times since I got married.'
'I don't give a fuck about Ricky. It's you I'm worried about.'
'Well, don't be. I'm an adult now. I'm a big girl. I can look after myself. You don't need to be my... my surrogate mother anymore.'
I smile but pain crosses her face, surprising me. I wouldn't have thought she'd be upset by that.
I soften. 'Please, Minnie, just believe me when I tell you there's nothing going on. Nothing like that.'
'I don't want to see you getting... hurt.'
'I won't get hurt.'
'If you're going to have a baby, then you can't afford to get mixed up with George like this.'
I stare at her in disbelief, the sympathy I felt for her moments earlier dissolving. 'You still think I'm pregnant? Why? I've told you...'
'Yes, I know what you said but...'
'I'm not pregnant. There's is no chance I even could be.' I turn towards my bed and pick up my suitcase. Unzipping the pocket inside it, I take out the circular foil of little white pills and hand them to Minnie. 'And that's why.'
She turns them over in her hand. 'What's this?'
'It's the pill. The contraceptive pill.'
She raises an eyebrow. 'These aren't a hundred percent effective.'
'Effective enough.'
She looks at them again, like she doesn't quite believe it. 'Isn't the pill still illegal in New York?'
'Yes, for contraceptive use. Not for medical use. Not for severe menstrual problems. Terrible, terrible pain. Then you can get a prescription.'
'You have...'
'No, Minnie, I lied,' I sigh, frustrated. 'I lied to get the doctor to prescribe it for me. And do you know whose idea it was? Ricky's. Ricky, who is, apparently, Catholic. Ricky, whose family have portraits of the pope in all their homes, in all of Sal's restaurants. Ricky doesn't want kids any more than I do.'
Lei è incinta ancora?
Is she pregnant yet?
C'è un problema, Ricky?
Is there a problem, Ricky?
These are the things I've heard them say to Ricky. They've said it so often, I've looked up what it means. I didn't really need to. I could have guessed. I don't think Ricky realises I know what they're asking him.
No, no certo che no. Succederà quando succede, he replies.
No, of course not. It will happen when it happens.
Minnie frowns at me. 'You don't want..?'
I shake my head.
'Then, why did you marry him? If you don't...'
I'm not sure of the answer to that.
'After what happened to us? To Mum? You know, Minnie, we've always said we would never...'
'But Ricky is not...' She lowers her voice. Still, after all this time, we have to speak in whispers. 'Ricky is not like Dad.'
'No, he's not.'
'All that. Everything we said, Hannah, that was years ago. Things change...'
'I haven't. Have you?'
'No, but that... That's irrelevant. You're still married to Ricky, so you can't afford to get involved with George. Not unless you're planning on breaking up your marriage and leaving Ricky because you're...'
I turn away, but not quickly enough. Minnie still catches it, the expression on my face.
She stops and moves around me, moving into my eye line.
'Are you?' she asks, touching my arm. 'Hannah, are you thinking of leaving Ricky?'
I don't reply and Minnie puts her hand over her mouth, genuinely shocked, because I don't do this sort of thing, do I? I don't lie to get a prescription for the pill. I don't sleep with someone else the night before my wedding. I don't leave my husband before the ink is dry on our wedding certificate.
You're the good one, Hannah. You're my good girl.
I've always been the good girl, haven't I? Trying to make everyone happy. Cooking dinner. Keeping the house nice. Don't make him angry, Hannah. Don't drink, don't smoke, don't speak to boys. Wear this pretty frock. Trying to make my marriage work. Don't say bad words. I know Ricky is not the easiest guy to live with. Sweep the floors, iron the clothes, fresh flowers on the table. Don't complain. Be quiet. Be good.
Minnie blinks. 'Hannah, it's not been a year yet. Are you... Are you sure you...'
'I don't know,' I snap. 'I don't... I haven't decided anything yet.'
I haven't even thought about it in these terms yet. I haven't said it out loud. I haven't allowed the words to cross my mind, because that would be admitting it, wouldn't it? It would be admitting defeat, admitting this is not working, this is not what I want. Admitting that I made the wrong choice.
'Hannah...'
'We're just not what we should be, we're not... What, Minnie? Would you have me stay with him regardless?'
'Of course not. Is it... really that bad?'
I sigh and shake my head. I sit down on my own bed, rest my elbows on my knees and put my head in my hands. 'I don't know... Maybe I'm just being stupid and it's nothing. A bad patch.'
Minnie draws herself up, taking a deep breath. 'Well, okay... But having some kind of affair with George is still not the answer to your prayers.'
'There's no affair,' I tell her, tired. 'Minnie, I haven't done anything.'
'It's not just you. I know it's not. It's him too.'
I look up at her. 'Him..?'
'He likes you. He's always liked you, hasn't he? And there's nothing wrong with George. I don't think he'd do anything malicious and he wouldn't mean to... but... but... You're better than that.'
'Better than what?'
'Than putting up with that sort of shit from a guy. You don't want to be like me and John. We have a twisted facsimile of a... a relationship, and you don't want that with George. You deserve better than that. You deserve a guy who's going to...' She stops and folds her arms over her stomach, looking down. 'Ricky can be a wanker, but at least he loves you, Han,' she continues, quietly. 'And I think that he really does. What's going to happen with George? When he goes home? You're going to wreck your life for him and then he's going to-'
I stand and stepping towards her, take both of her hands in mine. 'Minnie,' I interrupt, softly. 'I'm not going to do that.'
She stares at me, sorry. 'He has a girlfriend, at home in England,' she says, plainly.
'I know.'
'He's told you about her?' she asks, slightly disbelievingly.
'Yes,' I lie. He hasn't. He hasn't said a word about her. To me, anyway. What I know about her, I know from Cat and from those magazine articles.
'Because John says he's pretty serious about her, Hannah. From the sounds of it, they're practically married. They've been living together since last year. They go on holidays together and... and I just don't want you thinking something is going to happen when it's not. You can't let him string you along.'
Her words are unexpectedly hard. She doesn't intend it like that, but it still makes my stomach twist, it still hurts. But then, why wouldn't it? I loved George for a long time. You can't turn that off like a tap. It's normal for me to feel like that about his current girlfriend. It doesn't matter if I'm married to Ricky or not.
I drop Minnie's hands. 'He's not stringing me along,' I tell her, softly. 'He's not... George isn't like that. He hasn't tried to kiss me or... or do anything. He wouldn't. So I've held his hand, or we lark around together. So what? It's innocent, Minnie. It's just... innocent.'
Minnie twists her mouth dubiously.
'He's in love with this Pattie girl. He doesn't want me.'
She smiles weakly. 'Well, that's just it, Hannah. He is in love with her. So be careful, will you? Don't get too attached to him, because the tour ends soon and then... then they'll just go home to their other women and that's that.'
I nod and force a smile back. Suddenly, she moves into me, her arms around my neck tightly. I put my arms around her back and hug her to me. I realise that this is only partly about me. This is equally about her and John too. Whatever she says, however often she denies it, she's got feelings for John. I've seen them together, when they think no one is watching, how tender he is with her. It must kill her when he goes back to his wife every time.
Minnie lets go of me as abruptly as she grabbed me. 'I'll use the bathroom first,' she mumbles, as she goes for the door. 'I won't be long. Then you can brush your teeth and we'll go to sleep.'
I nod to her, turning away. When I hear the door shut behind her, I cover my face with my hands and allow myself a single shuddering sob. When I said that - when I said, He's in love with this Pattie girl - that's when it became real.
I take a couple of deep breaths and blink hard, gathering myself. I can't allow myself to feel like this. I can't. It's unbearable.
It's only been four days since this started, since we made some kind of truce on the plane to Chicago. Before then, I'd been okay. I'd been ready to deal with George on this tour.
I expected him to be distant. To still angry with me because of what happened before I married Ricky. I expected it to be awkward and hostile between us. I expected silences or barbed comments and glares.
I didn't expect him to be so... so nice to me. I didn't expect him to be friendly. I didn't expect him to make me laugh, make me feel happy.
I didn't expect to still be in love with him.
But I have to face the truth of it, however much I don't want to.
The reason George isn't angry anymore, the reason he's alright with me, is plainly because he has no need to be. He doesn't feel strongly enough anymore. He doesn't feel strongly enough to waste his time being angry or hurt.
He loves someone else now.