He breathed in and out into the receiver. I didn’t need him to say anything then, to explain what he was feeling. I stopped at a small damp bench beside a bronze bust and sat down.
And you haven’t told Bobbi about the diagnosis, he said.
I haven’t told anyone. Just you. I feel like talking about it will make people see me as a sick person.
A man walking a Yorkshire terrier went past, and the terrier noticed me and strained at its lead to get at my feet. It was wearing a quilted jacket. The man flashed me a quick smile, apologetic, and they moved on. Nick said nothing.
Well, what do you think? I said.
About Bobbi? I think you should tell her. You can’t control what she thinks of you anyway. You know, sick or healthy, you’re never going to be able to do that. What you’re doing now is deceiving her just for the illusion of control, which probably isn’t worth it. I don’t rate my own advice very highly, though.
It’s good advice.
The cold of the bench had travelled through the wool of my coat and into my skin and bones. I didn’t get up, I stayed sitting. Nick said how sorry he was to hear that I was ill, and I accepted that and thanked him. He asked a couple of questions about how to treat the symptoms and whether they might just get better with time. He knew another woman who had it, his cousin’s wife, and he said they had children, just for whatever it was worth. I said IVF sounded scary to me and he said, yeah, they didn’t use IVF I don’t think. But are those treatments getting less invasive now? They’re definitely improving. I said I didn’t know.
He coughed. You know the last time we saw one another, he said, I wanted to stop because I was afraid I was hurting you. That’s all.
Okay, I said. Thanks for telling me that. You weren’t hurting me.
We paused.
I can’t tell you how strict I’ve been with myself about not calling you, he said eventually.
I thought you’d forgotten all about me.
The idea of forgetting anything about you is kind of horrifying to me.
I smiled. I said: is it really? My feet were getting cold in their boots then.
Where are you now? he said. You’re not walking any more, you’re somewhere quiet.
I’m in Stephen’s Green.
Oh, really? I’m in town too, I’m like ten minutes away from you. I won’t come see you or anything, don’t worry. It’s just curious to think of you being so close by.
I imagined him sitting in his car somewhere, smiling to himself on the phone, how aggravatingly handsome he would look. I tucked my free hand up inside my coat to keep it warm.
When we were in France together, I said, do you remember we were in the sea one day and I asked you to tell me that you wanted me, and you splashed water on my face and told me to fuck off?
When Nick spoke, I could hear he was still smiling. You’re making me sound like such a prick, he said. I was just kidding with you, I wasn’t seriously telling you to fuck off.
But you couldn’t just say that you wanted me, I said.
Well, everyone else was always talking about it. I thought you were being a little gratuitous.
I should have known it wouldn’t work out between us.
Didn’t we always know that? he said.
I paused for a second. Then I just said: I didn’t.
Well, but what does it mean for a relationship to ‘work out’？ he said. It was never going to be something conventional.
I got up from the bench. It was too cold to sit outside. I wanted to be warm again. Lit from below, empty branches scratched at the sky.
I didn’t think it had to be, I said.
You know, you’re saying that, but you obviously weren’t happy that I loved someone else. It’s okay, it doesn’t make you a bad person.
But I loved someone else.
Yeah, I know, he said. But you didn’t want me to.
I wouldn’t have minded, if …
I tried to think of a way to finish this sentence without saying: if I were different, if I were the person I wanted to be. Instead I just let it fall off into silence. I was so cold.
I can’t believe you’re on the phone saying you waited for me to call you, he said quietly. You really don’t know how devastating it is to hear that.
How do you think I feel? You didn’t even want to speak to me, you just thought I was Melissa.
Of course I wanted to speak to you. How long have we been on the phone now?
I got to the gate I had come through, but it was locked. My eyes were starting to sting with cold. Outside the railing a line of people queued for the 145. I walked toward the main gate, where I could see the lights of the shopping centre. I thought of Nick and Melissa singing ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ in their warm kitchen with all their friends around them.