BooksBarbecue
Back When We Were Friends
Chapters (52)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Dedication
  4. About the Author
  5. 31
  6. 14
  7. 31
  8. 14
  9. 31
  10. 14
  11. 31
  12. 14
  13. 31
  14. 15
  15. 31
  16. 16
  17. 32
  18. 16
  19. 32
  20. 17
  21. 32
  22. 17
  23. 32
  24. 17
  25. 32
  26. 17
  27. 32
  28. 18
  29. 32
  30. 18
  31. 32
  32. 18
  33. 32
  34. 18
  35. 32
  36. 18
  37. 32
  38. 18
  39. 32
  40. 18
  41. 32
  42. 18
  43. 32
  44. 18
  45. 32
  46. 32
  47. 33
  48. 33
  49. 33
  50. Acknowledgments
  51. Discussion Questions
  52. Booklist

Voicenote: So, hey, OK. I’ll stop after this, I promise. I just...well...messages always sound so shit, don’t they? It doesn’t feel right saying how sorry I am over a message. But I really am sorry, Jessica. For so much that I don’t even know where to start. I just read the email you sent me all those years ago and God... I can’t believe I didn’t see it. If only I’d seen it... I really am so sorry. I’m not trying to make excuses, but, I’ve been thinking so much about us growing up and what we went through, and I think we were all messed up by it more than I thought. Anyway, again, I’m sorry. I am fucked-up. I see it. I should’ve said sorry. I should’ve been a better friend. Back then, and now. You were right...you weren’t to blame, and I’m sorry. It’s so weird walking around Victoria Park. It’s been months now, and I keep wondering if I’m going to bump into you and wish we were just friends again. But better friends. Free from all the shit we’ve been carrying. But yeah, I can’t make you forgive me, and I don’t want to pester you. But... I’m sorry. What I said, was terrible. I hope you and Bridget are OK. I wish you every single happiness. I’ll stop now... Thanks for listening to this.

33

now.

A month later, I came home from work and found the flat filled with candles. Ben stood among them, weeping before he’d even got down on one knee, still wanting to marry me. I cried with him, hugging on the floor, in an ocean of light. The happiest moment of my life. If only I could’ve told her about it, even though she knew it was coming.

When he put the ring on my finger, she was the first person I wanted to tell.

Just as she was the first person I wanted to tell, when I really fell in love for the first time in my third year of university.

And how she was the first person I wanted to tell when he broke my heart two years later because we couldn’t make the long distance work.

She was the first person I wanted to tell when I got my first proper job.

She was the first person I wanted to tell when my blog post took off. When I finally got my first good job, it was her I wanted to call.