My Best Friend's Girl (29 page)

chapter 37

W
hen it was over, I sat on my sofa staring into the mid-distance. I couldn’t move.

Adele was there with me. I could feel her. As though she was sitting beside me, and now, having relayed her story, was waiting for my reaction. Waiting to hear what I had to say, feel what I had to express.

I turned my head and she wasn’t there. She wasn’t sitting beside me on the floor, her hair wild around her face, her tank top stretched tight over her toned body. She wasn’t looking at me with fear and anticipation in her steel-blue eyes. Slowly the feel of her faded, evaporated into the ether, and I was sitting alone in my living room.

Why? Why had Nate done it?
I now knew it was an impulse for her. That was what she was like, impulsive, spontaneous. Act first, think later. But Nate thought everything through. Even if it seemed to be an instant thought, it would have been one of the many things he spent time brooding on. He said the other day he was feeling low at the time it happened, was that one of the ways he made himself feel better? Imagining making love to Adele? Had he been waiting for the chance, which eventually presented itself?

I had to know. I picked up the phone, which was sitting in a cradle by the sofa, and stared at the buttons. I couldn’t call him, not with Tegan and Luke in the house. I launched myself off the sofa, moving like a madwoman, I went to the coat rack and grabbed my coat, I crushed the letter into one of the pockets, then shoved my bare feet into Luke’s trainers, not caring that they were too big for me. I opened the door, slipping my keys into my pocket. Shutting the door quietly, I crept down the stairs and outside into the bleak midwinter night.

Standing outside in the navy black night, I dialed his number, and after the fifth ring his sleep-musty voice croaked, “Hello?”

“Why did you do it?” I asked, louder than I intended.

“What?” he replied. There were muffled sounds as he moved in bed.

“Why did you do it?” I repeated. “Why?”

“Kam?” He coughed to clear his throat. “It’s four a.m., what are you doing?”

“I have to know. She told me. She told me what happened; I know why she did it. But I don’t know why you did. Why?”

“Jesus, Kam, what are you doing? Where are you?”

“In the street.”

“What?” I could hear him wake up, sit up suddenly.

“The street where?”

I sniffed back cold-induced snot. “I had to come outside because they’re asleep…Why? Was I that terrible? I was, wasn’t I?” Suddenly it felt as though my internal organs were being crushed, compressed by a vice. I gripped the phone tighter, as the pain intensified. “I’m sorry,” I gasped. “I was such a bitch. I knew you’d leave me one day because I was such a bitch.”

“Kam, I’m coming over. Stay where you are. I’ll be there soon, OK?”

I nodded.

“Kam?”

I sniffed. “Yes,” I said in a small voice.

“OK.” His voice was clearer, stronger, he was obviously standing up. “I’ll be there soon.”

Nearly thirty-five minutes later the silver Audi driven by my ex drew up outside my building, and I straightened up from my position huddled against the brick archway entrance. I’d had my arms wrapped around myself the whole time, trying to keep warm.

He’d obviously dressed in a hurry: black jogging bottoms, a heavily creased black T-shirt and a navy blue fleece. There were no socks with his trainers, he hadn’t even had time to spike up his hair into its usual style so it was partially sleep-crushed. He crossed the pavement toward my flat as I came down the path to meet him. We met at my gate, his face a mix of confusion and worry and sleep. Unbidden, wild uncontrollable anger spiked through me. Before I knew what I was doing, my arm was raised and I’d slapped him across the face.

There was a lack of surprise on his face as his head moved slightly at the blow, he just cast his eyes down to the ground. Nothing was said for a few seconds, then Nate raised his hand to his slapped left cheek. “That’s been a long time coming,” he said.

I shoved him, he stumbled backward. “So has that.”

I pushed him again and he stumbled backward again, this time against his car. I wanted to hit him, but was scared of actually hurting him. Because it was in me. The rage in me was enough to cause him permanent damage. “Why?” I asked. “Why did you pull her back? I know what she’s like. I know she’s impulsive. I know she would have kissed you and not meant it. But why did you pull her back? How could you do that? Why did you do that?”

Nate stayed huddled in his silence.

“Why, Nate? What did I do? Was I that awful? I didn’t mean to be. I just…I was a bitch.”

Nate looked up then, took me in his arms. “Shhhh,” he hushed against my ear. “Shhhh.” He continued hushing me until I stopped speaking.

“I always thought you didn’t care that much,” Nate said, still holding me. “You never reacted like this at the time and I thought you’d gone because of the betrayal. I never thought it had hurt you that much. It’s hard to fathom you sometimes.”

“Of course I cared. I just couldn’t speak about it. For more than two years I couldn’t speak about it because it’d make me fall apart. And I knew it was me. I’d done it. I’d pushed you two together.”

“We were never like that, Kam. Adele and I were just friends.”

“So why did you pull her back? Kiss her? Make love to her? She told me, you know? She told me that she kissed you and was going to run away but you pulled her back. Why?”

“Because…”

I tensed in his arms, knowing he was going to say it was because I was rubbish. In bed and out of bed. That I was so rotten to him that he had to pay me back somehow. This had always been my terror, my fear, why I couldn’t talk about it: what happened confirmed that I was different. Broken. Adele and Nate had come together because I was so awful.

“Because right after she kissed me and I pulled away from her, she looked so terrified. She bit her lower lip, her eyes all wide, and that simple action reminded me of you. That time when we first had sex. Afterward you got dressed and were about to go home and I asked if I’d see you again, remember? You turned around, kissed your palm, blew me a kiss, said, ‘We’ll see,’ and left. Just before you blew me the kiss you had that same expression on your face. You looked so scared, so surprised and I don’t know whose mannerism it was first, but you bit your lower lip. It was only a fleeting thing, but it was so honest that I fell for you. And, that night with Adele, I was so confused about us, I knew we were almost over, and I saw that look again. It reminded me of that moment I fell for you. I wanted it back. I wanted to make love to the you I fell for, not the one I’d been existing with for the past six months.

“I know it was wrong, but I did it. That’s why I told you the other day I took responsibility for it. What I did was selfish, it was all about me and trying to get back what I couldn’t. I hate myself, but the whole time I was thinking about you. I’m not just saying that, I was. She had a different body to yours so it almost felt like that first time with you. I did that to Adele. I used her to make myself feel better. And then I was a complete bastard to her when she told you what we’d done. She didn’t realize that I was blaming her for something that was my fault. Do you have any idea how much I hate myself for not making things right with her before she died?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Because I hate myself more.”

Nate pulled away from me slightly. “You didn’t sort things out with her? But you took Tegan…How did you know what happened that night?”

I pulled the balled-up letter from my pocket. “I just found it,” I explained. “I thought you knew that I didn’t know. Why do you think I called you now? I just found out.”

“You never talked to her?”

I shook my head.

“Oh God, Kam…” He pulled me close. “Why not?”

“I couldn’t think about it, let alone talk about it. And then there was Tegan. You made her together. You two had something that I could never be a part of. I hated you both for that. You had a baby. I never wanted a baby, but if I did want one, it would have been yours. You’re the only person on earth I’d want to have a child with, and you did it with someone else. Someone I loved. That’s why I had to leave. I couldn’t stay when you’d made a baby, a new life, with someone else.” I was incoherent. Every thought in my head was rushing to come out at once. “I thought I had more time. I thought I had a few months to get used to the idea of having her back in my life, and then one day we’d have that conversation. But she died. She died so suddenly. I knew it was going to happen but when it did…” I pressed the palms of my hands onto my eyes. “I wasn’t ready…I didn’t get to say goodbye. I didn’t tell her that I was sorry. That I didn’t hate her. I didn’t tell her I loved her. I walked away not knowing that was the last time I’d ever see her.” Nate held me up as what little strength that had been holding me together, holding back my grief, disintegrated. “I’m such a horrible person. She was dying and I didn’t let her talk. I was too scared to hear it. But I wanted to say goodbye. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

Nate didn’t say anything as he held me together. He’d never had to do this with me before. I was the strong one with Nate and me. He looked after me, sorted my life out, made the most amazing love to me—and I wasn’t just talking sex. He gave me the kind of confidence I never thought I’d have. But when a crisis hit, it was me who sorted it out. Me who found a practical solution. Nate and I balanced each other out, and although he got to parts of me no one else had, he’d never had to deal with Kamryn in tears. Kamryn in breakdown.

“Babe,” he whispered in my ear as I cried, as everything I’d been feeling for weeks came gushing out in a tidal wave of emotion. I couldn’t hold it back any longer and all of it came out. “It’s OK,” Nate reassured. “It’s OK.”

Eventually the tears stopped and I was dry crying, my body the only thing quivering. Then, my body stopped shaking and I stood empty, drained, in Nate’s strong arms.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, so tired I could hardly form words. “I didn’t mean to do that.” I mustered enough strength to push him away and rubbed at my red eyes, embarrassed at myself. I did know why I’d broken down like that. It’d been a long time coming but I didn’t know why it’d been with him. If it’d been with anyone it should have been with Luke.

“It’s all right,” Nate said, concern on his face and in his voice. “You can talk to me any time.” He came toward me, as though to hold me again, but I stepped out of reach, put my hands up to stop him. To halt this.

“Nate, this is so fucked up. I can’t be breaking down in front of you. I’ve got a boyfriend, who I love. He’s the one I should be crying with, not you. I just wanted to know why, that’s all. I didn’t mean to do this. I don’t know why I did. You were there, I suppose.”

“Don’t push me away,” he pleaded.

“You are away, Nate. The sooner we both get used to that, the better.” Even I lurched inside at the coldness in my voice.

He nodded slightly, abject misery on his face as he turned away.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted at him. I couldn’t let him go like that. What if it was the last time I saw him? What if it was like Adele all over again? “I didn’t mean to say that. I’m sorry, OK? I’m sorry for saying that. I’m sorry for hitting you. And for shoving you. I’m sorry for all of it. I’m sorry.”

He stopped opening his car door, rotated on the spot toward me. “I’m sorry too. I never said that but I am. I’m sorry for what I did. For breaking up our relationship. For wrecking your friendship with Adele. For hurting you so badly. I’m truly sorry.”

I nodded. Nate had aged since the last time I saw him. Time had become ingrained in his face. He was weary. His eyes were bloodshot, his mouth, the beautiful mouth with which he’d asked me to repeat my marriage proposal, was pressed into a grim line.

“I’ll talk to you soon,” I said.

“Yeah,” he replied. His car started as I opened the main front door.

Upstairs, I quietly opened the front door to my flat. I didn’t even notice that the lounge light was off. I hung my coat up on the rack and kicked off Luke’s shoes. Barefoot, I crept into the bedroom.

I jumped when I found Luke, fully dressed in jeans and his thick-knit blue sweater, sitting on the bed. The room was dark but he looked as though he’d been waiting for me to return so he could leave. I noticed his feet were covered in his socks but no shoes; he’d been unable to go because I’d been wearing his trainers.

“I saw Nate outside,” Luke stated quietly. “What’s going on?” His face was angry but also afraid, if he’d been watching from the window, then he’d probably seen Nate holding me, stroking my hair as he comforted me. Luke probably thought Nate and I were about to get back together. Nothing could be further from the truth. I moved slowly toward my bed and climbed onto it, lay down, curled up in the fetal position.

“Give us a cuddle,” I asked.

Luke hesitated, then did as I asked, curled up around me. I relaxed against him, he was warm and comforting after the cold and brutalness of the outside. I covered his hands with mine and my fingers began to thaw.

“What’s going on?” he murmured, anxiety in his voice.

In short bursts, I told him.

“i’m not precious, i’m tegan”