In the immediate aftermath of Shep moving out my flat feels empty, my life feels empty and my heart feels like it’s been pulverised in a blender. Tanya does her best to console and distract me at work, which I very much appreciate, but it’s as if a montage of mine and Shep’s best moments together is running on a loop in my brain – and someone’s hidden the stop button.
I’m aware that, to any outsider, the depth of my heartache might seem ridiculous and overly dramatic. On the face of things, I’ve only known Shep for a couple of weeks, so I can’t possibly have fallen in love with him in that time. And, of course, I haven’t. Not fully and completely in the sense that I know and understand every part of him. But my feelings are real and the idea of never seeing him again hurts. A lot.
I shut myself off from everyone I don’t have to see or speak to. I do this to give myself time to recover from the shock of losing Shep so suddenly and to avoid well-intended but unhelpful comments about how I’m too good for him. I also just don’t have enough emotional resilience to meet up with Becca, Tess and Sal in the Old Town Inn, knowing he could literally be next door. Because I’d be very surprised if he really has packed up and gone home at this late stage – he’s made enough friends now to find someone to put him up for the remainder of the festival, and I can’t see him not wanting to at least see things through.
To buy myself some time, I tell the girls through our WhatsApp group that I’m having a week of it (which is not actually a lie), and that I’ll see them on Saturday – which is, of course, Shep’s night off. My hope is that, if he is still in the city, he won’t be at The Canongate Tavern that night.
Avoiding my parents isn’t as easy, especially as my mum appears to have some kind of sixth sense. She’s already left me a couple of voice messages, so in a bid to put her off, I let her know – via text message – that I’m really busy and that I’ll call her at the weekend. This is despite the fact that all I really want to do is run home to her for a cuddle. Although I don’t like to admit it, it’s quite obvious that I’m also keeping them at a distance out of a (somewhat misguided) sense of loyalty to Shep, because I don’t want them to hate him – though, based on his behaviour the other night, he really doesn’t deserve that protection.
On Friday evening, I’m torturing myself by watching back-to-back episodes of Love is Blind and yelling, ‘You’re right, no one can understand unless they’ve been through it themselves!’ at the screen, when I decide I need to nip this behaviour in the bud before it becomes an unhealthy pattern. As a scientist, I know that to do that, I need to change one of the variables. Just as I’m working up to texting the girls and asking what time they’ll be at the pub the next day, a WhatsApp message pops up on my phone screen from Becca.
This is quickly followed by one from Tess.
Then another.
So Shep is still here. I suspected as much but the confirmation is like a punch in the guts, because it means he could easily reach out to me, but he’s chosen not to. I wait for a further message to come through from Sal, and I can see her typing, but then she stops. After a couple of minutes, it becomes obvious that she’s not going to comment, so I take a shaky breath and send my response.
Becca’s swift with her reply.
Smiling through fresh tears at Becca’s kindness and compassion, I let her know that this would be very much appreciated, and we make plans to meet at George Square Gardens. I then cross my fingers and send a message into the ether, asking for Sal to go easy on me, as it won’t take much to break me in my fragile state. As I say good night to Becca and Tess – Sal having never made a virtual appearance throughout the whole conversation – I try not to think about our meet-up spot, which feels somewhat bittersweet to me. It’s where I revealed to Shep that I was ‘Lea no-mates’, and where he made me feel safe and cared for and normal. But sadly, that happy memory is now just a reminder of what I’ve lost and how Shep behaved in completely the opposite way when he walked out on me.
Approaching the busy entrance to George Square Gardens early on Saturday evening, I’m a jumble of emotions. On the plus side, I’m looking forward to seeing the girls – though, I’ll admit, the lack of interaction from Sal the evening before has me unsettled. It’s also a beautiful calm sunny evening, which is already helping to lift my spirits after the last few days.
However, I’m finding it difficult to keep Shep out of my mind here. And as much as I want and need their company, I’m dreading telling the girls what happened, because I know I’m going to cry – a lot – in a public space.
‘Hi there… aww, look at you,’ Becca croons as I approach them, my chin already quivering uncontrollably. ‘Come here, honey. You need a hug.’
I allow her to envelop me, while I try and fail to keep my composure. Tess then dives in, making it a mini-group hug, and I cling to them hard while I attempt to get myself under control.
‘Let’s find a patch of grass and get some drinks in,’ says Tess, when we finally untangle ourselves. ‘You need wine for this.’
‘Yes, I do.’ I nod vigorously, while dabbing at my eyes with a tissue and trying to tune out the curious-slash-sympathetic looks from the people nearby.
‘Hi, Sal,’ I greet her timidly.
‘Hi.’ She gives me a tight smile in return, which I try not to read too much into.
We find ourselves a spot to sit, then Tess recruits Sal to help her with the drinks and they head to one of the pop-up bars, leaving me alone with Becca.
‘So, how are you doing?’ Becca tests that the ground is dry, then sits on the grass and spreads out her linen ankle-length skirt, no doubt to minimise the number of wrinkles it will acquire. It sort of makes her look like an angel, despite the fact that the skirt is a melange of yellow and orange.
‘I’m… um…’ I stop and think about this for a moment, rather than diving straight into an ill-considered response.
‘It’s OK. You can tell me anything, no matter how bad you think it sounds in your own head.’ Becca appears to mistake my hesitation for concern that she’ll think I’m being daft.
‘Right, I will, then.’ I push my hair behind my shoulders as if I’m preparing for a challenge of a more physical nature. ‘I’m… hurt… really hurt… I’d never have thought Shep and I could fall out like that, though I guess that was naïve of me. It’s not like I’ve known him long.’
‘All couples fight.’ Becca shrugs. ‘It’s normal.’
‘I know. But we’re no longer together because of that fight, which shows that there really was no substance to our relationship. We were basically just friends with benefits – if even that.’
‘It didn’t feel like that to you, though, did it?’
‘No. Not at all. Not at first, anyway. We were amazing together – until we weren’t.’ I let out a hefty sigh. ‘I’m sad for what we’ve lost… what we could have had together. I just don’t understand how he couldn’t see it.’
Becca gives me a sympathetic look and reaches for my hand.
‘Then there’s the part of me that’s… pissed off.’ I crease my brow in frustration and look at her apologetically.
‘You go for it.’ She breezily waves me on.
‘Thanks. You know, I appreciate this so much. One day, we’ll do this for you and your situation.’
‘I’d like that. But let’s stay focused on you for now. Tell me about being pissed off.’
I pick a low-lying daisy that’s escaped the lawnmower and twiddle it between my fingers, inspecting its tiny petals, before returning my attention to Becca.
‘I’m angry at Shep for walking out like that. For how casual and throwaway he was over us. I’m not saying he owed me anything. When I gave him a place to stay, I honestly didn’t expect anything in return, but—’
‘You expected him to treat you with respect.’
‘Yes, exactly.’ I throw my hands up in exasperation. ‘He knew how I felt about him, and instead of treating that situation delicately, he gave me shit for overstepping an agreement we never made in the first place. I can’t control how I feel, Becca. I didn’t ask for this.’
‘Of course you can’t – and of course you didn’t.’ Becca squeezes my hand, which she’s still holding, and leans in towards me. ‘Between you and me, I’m glad you’re angry at him. I could tell from the way he was behaving when we saw him that he hadn’t showered himself in glory. He’s obviously not a bad guy, you know that, but he doesn’t deserve you pining after him as if he’s the one that got away.’
‘You’re right. I’ll get over him. I just think it’s such a shame. We could’ve been amazing together.’
‘He’ll probably realise that – when it’s way too late… Oh, they’re on their way back with the drinks. Quick piece of advice: maybe don’t say too much about how you’re feeling in front of Sal, especially about being angry at Shep. She’s—’
‘Got her own views on this situation, I know.’ I give Becca a half-smile, which she returns, almost sheepishly, then she lets go of my hand. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t poke the lady bear.’
We turn our attention to Tess and Sal, who are tottering across the grass towards us, with our drinks. While we watch them approach, I can’t help wondering if that opportunity to share was engineered by Becca and Tess to protect me from a potentially unpleasant interaction with Sal. And if so, do I still need to be seriously on my guard?