Was it? I can’t remember!

Why did I drink so much?

BECAUSE YOU’RE

GETTING MARRIED!!!

Ah yes! Ha-ha. Love U!

Text when you get home.

Will do. Love you too xx

On Sunday I say my goodbyes to Naomi and catch the train from King’s Cross back to Yorkshire. As the train pulls away from the station, I feel a wave of relief. Pretending everything is fine is exhausting. Grateful to finally be able to drop my brave face and be alone with my thoughts, I stick in my AirPods and stare distractedly out of the window, replaying the night before.

I hadn’t told Naomi about seeing David. I didn’t want to spoil her party. We were supposed to be celebrating her birthday and surprise engagement, not talking about my ex-husband and his new fiancée. New fiancée. It had sent me reeling, but somehow I’d kept it together. Being introduced, saying hello.

‘Liv, this is Hannah.’

‘Hello. Nice to meet you.’

‘Hi, how’s it going?’

It was like all the air had been sucked out of my lungs. I nodded politely. Said something I can’t quite remember, about the music being loud. Tried not to appear as awkward as I felt. She was so much prettier in real life. And younger than me. I hated myself for caring.

‘I see congratulations are in order.’ Well, I couldn’t ignore it.

‘Oh yes.’

I’ve never seen David look so uncomfortable. In different circumstances I might have enjoyed watching him squirm.

‘Thank you.’

She glanced at her finger as if checking the engagement ring was still there. It was so unlike the one he’d bought me. Bigger. More flashy. I wanted to say something bitchy, but pride stopped me. I noticed she was wearing the gold bracelet I’d found in his drawer.

‘You look well.’

I snapped back. I used to hear him say that to casual acquaintances at Rotary Club dinners. He was always so formal – I used to tease him about it. Now all that intimacy between us was gone, like it never existed. It felt surreal.

‘Thanks. You too.’

She had amazing yoga arms. I suddenly regretted my outfit. Showing all this cleavage. I no longer felt like a babe. Or a knockout. I felt old and ridiculous.

‘Well, nice to see you. I must go, there’s probably a queue.’ I gestured lamely towards the ladies’ loos.

She smiled then and said something that I didn’t quite catch because of the music, but I noticed her accent and that she seemed nervous. And it struck me then that she must think I hated her, which unexpectedly made me feel quite sorry for her. I didn’t hate her at all; on the contrary, I didn’t feel anything towards her.

Well, apart from wishing my arms looked like hers.

But then it was never about her. I raised my eyes to meet David’s and, for the briefest of moments, the busy bar receded and all the background noise – all that grief and loss and hurt and anger – disappeared with it.