I had completely screwed things up by telling him about James, but even though our goodbye was hurried, we’d mostly made things right, and he had sent that text asking me not to make any big decisions until he’d thought things through. So, did I really think we’d broken up for good? Maybe I’d been telling myself we had because it made it easier for me to see James, guilt-free.

I pondered while chewing on a cracker laden with both dip and cheese. Then the truth hit, and I felt ill, that stupid knot making itself at home in my stomach again. “Yes. I did,” I said quietly. “I went to Hawaii hoping that Josh had figured things out and wanted to be with me, but …”

“But he hadn’t,” she said, finishing my thought.

“Exactly,” I said sadly. “And today, at the start of the call, when he was telling me all about this great new job, I was genuinely happy for him—as a friend, you know? I was even thinking, ‘hey, I can do this. I can be Josh’s friend,’ but then when he said he was coming to Sydney—”

“Maybe. Maybe coming to Sydney.”

“Maybe, yes, thank you—anyway, when he said he might be coming and that we could see each other and that I could stay over at his place … well, that was boyfriend Josh.”

“Or vacationship Josh.”

I piled up more cheese and dip onto another cracker and put the whole thing in my mouth. With my mouth full, I said, “Emphatly,” which meant, “exactly”.

“So, the real question is, are you willing to see how it goes with Josh if he comes here and if he wants to be more than friends?”

“I think he does.”

“Think he does, what?”

“Want to be more than friends. I mean, he specifically mentioned me staying over.”

“Maybe he just wants a shag.” I threw her a look. She put her hands up—part-surrender, part-apology. “Look, from what you’ve said, he does seem to have genuine feelings for you—”

“That he can’t seem to figure out,” I interrupted.

She raised her eyebrows at me. “Is it fair to judge him for that when you’re in the same boat?” Ouch.

She was right, though. Josh wasn’t in the middle of a love triangle, but how could I fault him for being unsure of his feelings when I still hadn’t decided which man—if either—to give my heart to? What a selfish cow I was.

Lins got up, leaving me with my thoughts, but taking our empty wine glasses with her. I heard her refilling them, then the sound of the bottle landing in the bottom of the recycling bin. No short pours in her house. She handed me a nearly full glass and I took a sip.

“So, what about James? How is it?”

I looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t want graphic details or anything, but when you’re with him, does it feel right?”