Page 127 of If We Were Young

“Yeah. I remember where I knew him from.”

“Sweetheart, you haven’t met him before. I hadn’t seen him for fifteen years.” Or ever would do again, because I was a moron.

“He came here after Dad died. He was looking for you.” Her face coloured.

“What do you mean?” A loud clanging bashed at the forefront of my head.

“I know I shouldn’t listen to grown up conversations. But you were in bed. Ma and Ange were rowing in the kitchen. Ma was telling Ange it was all her fault.”

“Ange doesn’t create snow.” I pointed it out for the record.

“Anyway, the doorbell rang, and it was that man. He said he’d heard the news and he wanted to check if you were okay. Ange laughed at him and told him you were busy mourning the love of your life.”

I gasped like I’d been sucker-punched. “Wh-what h-happened th-hen?”

“The man said for Ange to tell you he was sorry, for everything, that he missed you still. Then she said you didn’t need his apology because he’d never been anything to you.”

I didn’t pause to say anything to Hannah. There weren’t words that would be suitable. I barged into the front room. Ange still clutched her glass, staring morosely into the past.

“Angela. Did Matthew come here after Paul died?”

She blew out a gustful of air. “I was doing you a favour. He would only make things worse for you.”

“Or would he stop me needing you, Ange?”

“It was ridiculous. He asked for a divorce as soon as he heard you were widowed. He needed to be told that he couldn’t just come back and everything would be as it was. We’d all moved on.”

“Angela!” I fell at her knees, banging my kneecaps on the carpet. “I hadn’t moved on. For God’s sake, couldn’t you see that? I’ve never moved on; I’ve always been in love with him.”

“Ronnie, you haven’t. You never even told him. If you really loved him, you would have told him.”

She had me there.

I’d just let him walk away again. Who was the chicken shit now?

Oh, holy crap.

He’d asked for a divorce once he knew Paul had died? He’d always planned to get in contact as soon as he could and now I’d let him stand on my doorstep and give me a final goodbye.

I closed my eyes as the last piece locked into place. It hadn’t been a coincidence that Carling Supersavers had chosen the Childs Agency for the rebrand. He’d been guiding it from the start. They asked us to pitch. That was him. He could have chosen a company in Scotland, but instead he rented an apartment along the road from mine for two weeks as soon as his divorce came through.

He’d always known where I was and what I was doing. Even from finding me during my first date with Paul, to knowing that my husband had died.

He’d never not been with me.

“Fuck, shit.” I clutched her hand. “I’m so fucking cross with you right now. Honestly, Ange, I feel like I don’t even know you.”

The Ange who had always been in control, with her bright-red lipstick and devil-may-care attitude shuddered like a child. “I just didn’t want to be alone. It’s hard now, Ronnie. So hard.”

“You stupid cow. You are always my friend. Matthew and I were never meant to be friends. It’s been the stupidest mistake of both of our lives.” I paused and watched her carefully, the lines I always thought she’d been blessed not to own weaved a pattern under her foundation. Her eyes were shadowed with dark. “Ange. Life is hard. You should have told me if you were unhappy.”

“And be a puke fest like you?”

Her words punched like a ten-tonne weight.

I clambered up from my knees.

“Where are you going?”