Sean
And so, they had a pattern, after that first time Tilly left. Sean let it be, and Evie let it be, and Sean would make sure he checked in on Evie the entire time Tilly was gone.
The length of time varied.
Tilly would disappear for a weekend, a few weeks, or a few months. Once, and once alone, after uni, she was gone for almost a year.
She would always leave a note before going, though. A few times, as they sat in a pub, she’d tell them she was “taking off” the next day, acting as if she were letting them know she was going away for a weekend and not this mysterious human being they could never figure out.
Someone who was so solidly in your life up until then suddenly being gone, with where and why a secret, left a mark. Even if it didn’t happen for ages, or was just for a weekend.
Each time she was gone, it was a reminder that there was a part of Tilly they didn’t know. Something she was holding back.
Sean and Evie would live their lives like normal. And when Tilly was back, it was as if she’d never been gone. She was a dutiful friend. Always there. She organised birthdays and parties. When you’d had a bad day, she showed up with your favourite snack and some kind of distraction plan. She barely used her phone, ever, that never changed. But if Tilly got even an idea that you weren’t okay? She’d be at your doorstep. She planned weekends away for them all down south or up north: camping trips, wine tours. For Evie’s birthday one year, she planned a whole trip to Bali for them all. She was there, one hundred and ten per cent.
But Sean saw it.
Sean saw the look on her face, so subtle, so hidden in the depth of her eye, when she came back and Evie was dating someone. Oh, she never made it obvious. Sean highly doubted Evie had any idea. Tilly would even make friends with whoever the person was. Made a huge effort to get to know them, to be mates.
But Sean knew her too well. Sean spent so much time that first year watching them, used to watching people from before his less accommodating stage when he used to watch to see how he should and could fit in. Not the reason he watched those two, though. He watched because he really had been so sure he’d been seeing something incredible develop.
So, he knew Tilly. He saw that Evie dating people pulled her apart, a little. But she did a damn good job of hiding it. Smothering it down.
They both did such a great job of hiding it all, convincing themselves they weren’t in love with the other, that Sean, stupidly, had thought they’d finally found their status quo in the last two years. Which were, weirdly, the two years in which Tilly had been most present.
But now, those threads with which they’d sewn their feelings closed were tugging open. Tilly was finally changing. And damn, even with how mad he could be at Tilly sometimes, it hurt to see her finally opening up and have the timing so terribly, badly, out of step. There was Tilly, ready to try, ready to admit her feelings—and here was Evie, pulling back from it. She had a baby on the way. Her whole life taking huge leaps forwards in another direction and Tilly was going to be left behind.
He should want to tell her I told you so.
But he couldn’t bring himself to, because he loved them both. And he’d watched as for a decade they loved each other in a way that could have been doomed, best put on the back burner.
He found himself watching Tilly, and wondering if it were possible. Could this happen?
Or was it all just too late?