“And how was it then, with him?” Laura probed.
“Well, we broke up,” Josie said with a sigh. And she supposed it was only natural that people would ask about it. And it wasn’t that she was still too raw or anything to talk about it—she’d had time, over the last few months, to realize that it was definitely for the best—but it still wasn’t fun, admitting that your only serious adult relationship had crashed and burned, despite the fact that you’d moved to a different city together.
“I know that.” Josie could almost hear the “you idiot” at the end of the sentence. “But why?”
“We just…” Josie lifted a hand in the air, let it fall again. “It just wasn’t working, I suppose. We tried, but…” Laura nodded, and didn’t push. The thing was, it really had been great at first. Josie had decided to give Oliver another chance after Max had left her—it had made her realize that if you wanted something to work, you had to really work at it. And at first, they’d both tried hard—she’d made the effort to go with him to all his work parties, he’d introduced her to everyone, he’d made sure he kept weekends free to do what she wanted to do, and she’d tried to be supportive of his career, no matter her feelings about Janice or the company. She’d managed to get over the Cara thing—pretty much—and had accepted that it was a one-off, a mistake that he deeply regretted, and that it didn’t mean he didn’t care for her. But after the first two months, things had become more difficult, and it had felt more like they were both trying too hard, that surely it shouldn’t be that difficult. And then, she’d seen Max.
She still didn’t know why it had been such a dramatic turning point, given nothing had actually happened. It had reminded her, she supposed, of how she’d been feeling when she first met Max, how she’d felt when he left her the way he had. She’d thought about it, and had tried to imagine how she’d feel if Oliver did the same thing to her. She’d be furious, of course, no question about that. And she’d cry and scream and rage, and ask herself if it was her fault. All the normal things. But, when she’d looked at Oliver in that Brooklyn gallery, she’d had an uncomfortable feeling that maybe the emptiness she’d been left with after Max…maybe it wouldn’t be quite the same with Oliver. She’d thought that maybe it would be almost a relief.
She and Oliver had ended up fighting that night, after they’d gotten home. Oliver had claimed that she’d been off the whole night, that she still wasn’t over a guy she barely even knew, and that she didn’t have an interest in him anymore. It hadn’t helped that their sex life wasn’t exactly great by that point. They hadn’t officially broken up until a month after that, both of them admitting that all their efforts to spend more time together and make it work had actually had the opposite effect. She’d realized, in the space since the fight, that they just couldn’t go back. They’d been distracted by a new city at first, and that had hidden the truth of the matter—they couldn’t return to how they’d been before he’d slept with Cara, and she couldn’t pretend that Max had never happened.
It had been surprisingly easy to leave Oliver, to say goodbye, and that, Josie thought, said it all. He’d driven her to the airport; they’d laughed as they had a last drink together. She was glad they’d left it that way, without any leftover resentment. Glad it had been a mutual decision, and not because one of them had hurt the other this time. But still, it wasn’t exactly easy, admitting to herself that she’d thrown away her life in London and completely upped stakes for a relationship that was doomed to fail. Right after she’d almost given her heart away to a man who had treated her like a child treats their toys at Christmas—exciting to play with at first, then discarded as soon as they become boring.
“I’m sorry, Jose,” Laura said, putting a hand on Josie’s shoulder and squeezing. Josie shrugged as if to say it is what it is. “I still think it was brave, though. Giving it a go, going to New York. No one can say you didn’t try.”
“Yeah,” Josie said, working up a wry smile. “That’s true.” And, on the days where she felt a bit more clearheaded about it, she allowed herself to think that too. She couldn’t have necessarily known for certain that it was the wrong choice until she’d gone and tried—so at least this way, she wouldn’t be wondering, wouldn’t be chasing the what if.