Samantha reached out and squeezed each of their hands. ‘Guys, we’re together for the first time in God knows how long. Can’t we enjoy the night?’
Jasmine fixed Samantha with her feline eyes. ‘You wanted an intervention,’ she said. ‘This is an intervention.’
‘It’s been two weeks. I promise, I’m fine!’
‘Two whole weeks?’ Jasmine said. ‘And you’re only just telling us now?’
Samantha looked from one to the other once again and gave up the fight. They were not going to let her squirm away. It seemed that she’d packed quite a bit of emotional baggage for this trip. It was time to offload it.
‘You keep saying we were perfect and solid and talk of goals and whatever, but that’s not true. We were far from perfect.’
Samantha blamed herself for projecting the perfect couple image to the world. She had never complained about Timothy’s annoying habits or called to vent after a fight. So as far as they knew, it had been smooth sailing all the way. How to go about dismantling the myth?
‘We had our issues,’ she said. ‘Logistics played a big part.’
Timothy lived in Sheffield and they only ever saw each other on weekends. Their quasi long-distance relationship made it easy to overlook things. It was exciting at first, of course. During the week, they kept things going via text. On Thursday evenings Samantha rushed home from work, put on a record and tidied up her flat. She made sure to stock up on his favourite beer and crisps. That level of giddy enthusiasm would have been difficult for anyone to sustain. Eventually the anticipation waned. She’d forget to stock up on beer or change her sheets or make a reservation at their favourite Italian restaurant. All too soon they settled into a routine of Netflix on Fridays, Saturdays with friends at some pub or another, and Sunday brunch before he headed back to Sheffield. Thanks to this packed schedule, they managed to avoid meaningful conversation all weekend long.
Samantha stared at her hands as she laid all this out and more. When she dared to look up, Hugo’s expression had softened and Jasmine was nodding, encouraging her to go on.
‘I’m sad to lose him.’ She relived the moment he’d kissed her goodbye. Her cheeks were wet. ‘And I hate myself for feeling this way, but with Naomi finding the love of her life and all, it hasn’t been easy.’
‘This wedding has messed with everyone’s head,’ Jasmine said. ‘Jason keeps hinting that we should be next. I don’t even know if I believe in marriage.’
‘I got married for the political statement,’ Hugo said.
‘Yeah?’ Jasmine said. ‘I thought you got married for the health insurance.’
‘That, too,’ Hugo said. ‘Good thing it’s working out.’
They laughed and clinked glasses. Samantha felt unburdened for the first time in weeks. The waiter returned and placed a bowl of edamame at the centre of the table. They all reached in.
‘I just wish he hadn’t done this so close to the wedding, you know?’ Samantha said. ‘I might’ve found another date if I’d had the time to rope one in. I hate that I’m going it alone.’
‘You’re not alone,’ Hugo said firmly. ‘You have us!’
‘Oh, really?’ Samantha said. ‘Will you slow dance with me when they play Sinatra at the reception?’
‘Absolutely,’ Jasmine said. ‘I’ll be your Funny Valentine.’
‘Anyway, look at the bright side,’ Hugo said.
‘Yes?’ Samantha asked. An unflappable optimist, Hugo could find the bright side in a total eclipse.
‘Your hard work won’t go to waste. Go ahead and forward those Pinterest boards to Jasmine. She’s obviously next in line.’
‘God, no!’ Jasmine cried.
Samantha laughed even as her heart was sinking. She’d just been bumped from the happily-ever-after self-service buffet queue, and there was no way she could feel good about that.