Page 20 of Isn’t It Nice We Both Hate the Same Things

After a moment, Josie continues. ‘Certainly not something you would’ve faced with Dave. Why can’t my husband run marathons?’ She offers up another laugh, then quietens, face turning serious. ‘Although, I did always wonder if that bothered you? Dave out every Sunday, training.’

‘To be honest, I preferred not having him around.’ Now it’s my turn to laugh. ‘Probably a sign that something wasn’t working.’

‘Interesting.’ She is quiet but seems satisfied with the information.

And it triggers something. A light bulb moment. There it is .

‘Oh.’

She tips her head. ‘What?’

‘You’re waiting for me to complain about Dave. That’s how we used to do it. Tit for tat – you complain about Shaun, I complain about Dave. We go back and forth.’

It’s ridiculous how simple it is, now that I’ve figured it out. In the past, I’d listen to Josie’s woes, she’d listen to mine, and then we’d laugh it all off and go back home to our husbands. Except I went and did something about it, and here she is, still complaining about Shaun.

‘Oh,’ Josie says. ‘Probably.’ She looks like she’s been struck. Like she genuinely had no idea how much she complained about Shaun until I wasn’t there to offer up Dave. We are no longer equal in our unhappiness, and she no longer has my own woes to make her feel better.

‘So you don’t really have any updates, I guess.’

Her face changes after that. Blank expression, eyes unfocused, jaw slackened. Like she possesses a huge level of regret.

Silence ensues for far too long. It’s remarkable how long I can pretend to be sipping from a coffee mug that’s already empty. How have things changed so much in such a short amount of time? This stillness, it’s killing me.

‘Actually, I do have something about Dave.’ I straighten in my chair. ‘He’s been hassling me for the engagement ring.’

‘ Really ?’ She perks up, like balance has been restored, now that I’ve got something to offer.

‘He hasn’t mentioned anything to you?’

She shakes her head. ‘Nothing.’

Surprised, I pull out my phone and show her the text.

I still don’t have the engagement ring, Charlotte.

Her brow furrows, the corners of her mouth turning down. ‘Is that how he speaks to you now? Like a business transaction.’

I nod, and her face darkens. ‘That’s awful.’ I wonder if it bothers her, to see one of her closest friends speak to me like this. I wonder if she’s seeing a side to Dave she never knew.

‘Might be time to tell him you lost it.’

‘I’ve been ignoring him. Hoping he’ll forget about the ring entirely.’

‘That’s not Dave at all.’

I stare down at the message.

‘Could you buy a new one? Something that looks similar?’

Bless Josie for offering a solution. Ever the mediator, trying to find a compromise.

‘It’d cost thousands. And it probably won’t work. Not unless I find an exact replica.’ I tuck my phone away. ‘I’ll figure something out.’

The conversation lulls now that I’ve taken my turn discussing Dave, and she’s got what she came for. Perhaps not as much as she was hoping for, and certainly not as much as she used to receive, but enough to placate her.

She’s agitated though. Won’t stop picking at her nails. ‘Shaun’s not that bad. I’m far too harsh on him,’ she says. ‘He took me out for our anniversary the other month, which was lovely. Italian, by the beach. Beautiful.’

‘That sounds nice.’

‘And he’s great at getting the kids out of the house – down to the park, that sort of thing.’ She leans forward, enthusiastic to divulge more. ‘He cooks most nights, too, and even organised a trip for next year. Just us two. A wine tour, which will be fantastic. His sister is going to babysit.’

‘That’s really nice, Josie.’

‘Right?’ She sighs. ‘I’m very lucky to have him.’ And then she’s flustered again, eyes darting around the café. Fidgeting endlessly with her outfit. Cannot stop touching the ends of her hair. She grabs at her bag and rises. ‘I actually need to head. I’m sorry.’

‘Oh. Okay.’

‘Yes, sorry. We’ve got a few things on today.’ She offers a small smile. When she reaches out and grasps my wrist, she squeezes it firmly. ‘I’ll call you. I promise.’

Shortly after, I’m sliding back into my car on the street, watching Josie’s figure retreat as she walks briskly back home. She’s glancing down, phone in hand, punching out a text message.

I feel hopeful after seeing her. Reassured.

It was different, sure, and perhaps I’m annoyed at myself for forgiving her quite so easily, but she’s still one of my oldest friends in the city.

I want Genevieve and Graham to be wrong about them – we can still be friends – and I feel moved that she reached out and organised this.

I love that she apologised, and I feel heartened that she’s holding the rest of the group accountable.

She’s probably messaging them right now, telling them to get over whatever issues they’re having and to reach out to me. Things are looking up.

On my way back to Genevieve’s apartment, my phone pings in my bag. One, two, three messages, then more. Too many to count. An absolute flurry of texts that have me worried there’s an emergency. I pull over kerbside a few minutes from the apartment, dig around in my bag and find my phone.

There’s an onslaught of messages in an old group chat, one that hasn’t been active for months.

Emmanuel : well??? how was it?

Josie : Awkward. The whole thing is just so awful. What are we meant to do? Divide our time between the two of them?

Cinar : Did she say anything about Dave?? Tell you why she ended it?

Josie : Didn’t get that far. I tried but she barely spoke about him

Diego : Did you tell her I was sick last weekend

Josie : Yeah. Don’t think she bought it though, sorry

Diego : Damn

Josie : She’s upset we’ve been avoiding her. She started crying …

Cinar : Oh god

Shaun : We should all feel terrible

They’ve got the wrong group chat, I realise, and the irony isn’t lost on me. They finally start messaging, but it’s the wrong forum and they’ve not yet realised.

It’s gutting, seeing all this, realising what they truly think. That this was all an act, that they pity me. Acting like I’m contagious, like they’ve forgotten I was once a close friend.

Is that why Josie wanted to go to coffee? So she could find out, on behalf of the group, what happened between me and Dave? Was she elected, or did she take one for the team? My mind is reeling, my thoughts completely overtaken.

Emmanuel : i’d love to know what happened. you don’t think she’s found someone else, do you?

Josie : Starting over at thirty-two? Who could be bothered?

Cinar : Um, scusie me? I’m starting over at thirty-eight

Emmanuel : and you’ll be starting over at thirty-nine. and forty. and forty-one …

Cinar : Bitch

Josie : Maybe Dave found someone else

Emmanuel : doubt it, the guy is barely functioning

Josie : She’s really trying though, I feel for her. What do we do about couples night? Do we invite her? Dave’s coming

Shaun : Of course we invite

Emmanuel : definitely do not invite

Josie : What if she asks?

Cinar : Lie to her. It’s the only way.

Diego : Do not invite. I ran away from her!!! It’s awkward

Diego’s comment earns a splattering of laughing emojis, and with each one I feel like someone is piercing my skin.

And the couples’ night! I’d completely forgotten that was coming up – was so preoccupied with everything else it slipped through.

I should’ve known I wouldn’t receive an invite.

I should’ve known this is what they actually think.

Completely unlike Dave to cheat, but not me?

If they found out what Dave did, they’d be inviting me .

They’d be apologising to me . It’d be Dave left in the lurch. It’d be Dave who ceased to exist.

Cinar : What are we going to do?

Josie : No idea

Emmanuel : so nothing about dave at all?

Josie : Just that he’s chasing the engagement ring

Diego : Have they finalised the settlement yet?

Josie : Not sure

Emmanuel : do they speak at all?

Josie : Don’t know

Cinar : Any update on what’s happening with their apartment?

Josie : She didn’t mention

Emmanuel : josie! ridiculous. i’m taking over

Not thirty seconds later, my phone alights with a text message from Emmanuel.

hiya, been thinking about you. miss you! sorry i’ve been MIA, i’m a terrible friend. let’s get dinner next week? love you!

And I’m done. Feeling utterly defeated. Like someone has scooped out my insides and left my shell behind.

It’s remarkable how much this has floored me – I fear I’m more surprised by how my friends have reacted than by the actual end of my marriage.

I’m cursing them all. Thinking of ways I can destroy Emmanuel’s collection of Egyptian artefacts without him finding out it was me.

Let me tell you, if any of them go through something lifechanging, I suspect I’ll think twice before offering my support. Like if Emmanuel’s marriage ever breaks down, or Cinar’s artwork stops selling, or Josie discovers material other than French flax linen.

Charlie : Wrong group chat guys!!

I watch as they all view the message. One by one, until the tally marks five. And then I wait ten minutes, to see if anyone is going to say anything.

Josie starts typing, then stops. Shaun starts, then stops. Diego, even, attempts to say something but ceases his attempt.

And then, nothing.

I imagine the real group chat is going off . Makes me smile, thinking of them panicking. Re-reading their conversation to see just how bad it was. To see whether it’s fixable.

After twenty minutes, there’s still nothing and I’ve realised that my message has well and truly murdered our friendship. They must’ve decided, together, that this is not salvageable. That we’re done for. That it’s best to make a clean break and say nothing.

Genevieve and Graham were right . My friendships are over.