‘That whole thing washeridea. Her plan. I found out afterwards that she knew you were working at the venue. It was … cruel. It made me think about what sort of person she is. She’s very driven – very impressive in a lot of ways, I suppose … but she isn’t kind.’
‘I can’t disagree with you there,’ Rosie said. ‘But do you seriously expect me to believe you were duped into an engagement, then dumped your fiancée because she was nasty to your ex – who you yourself had tried to dumpby letterjust weeks before?’
‘I’ve been an absolute shit,’ James said, wincing. ‘I know I have. But I love you. I see that now. I’d become so obsessed with peripheral, superficial stuff that I lost sight of the truth. And the truth is, you’re my rock. My cheerleader. My safe place.’
Rosie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. And yet … hadn’t Niamh predicted this? She’d said something along these lines months ago – suggested that James would eventually realise Rosie was the person he relied on, rather than the person holding him back.
The word ‘cheerleader’ made her feel bilious. She didn’t want to spend any more of her life egging someone else on, propping up their ambitions and – inevitably, in this case – washing their pants into the bargain. Rosie wanted to be her own champion. To be with someone who believed she was extraordinary and exciting, who wanted to be part ofheradventure. To paraphrase a rough pub karaoke classic: she was not, and didn’t want to be, the wind beneath anyone else’s wings.
‘So if I’m your safe place, what was Dylan?’ she couldn’t help asking.
‘She washarsh,’ James said. ‘And I thought I wanted that. I thought I needed that kind of motivation to better myself. But nothing I said or did was ever good enough for her. She was constantly critical in small, backhanded ways. In the end, it was demotivating. Hurtful. Horrid.’
Rosie raised her eyes to the ceiling and pressed her lips together. There was a part of her that wanted to laugh. ‘That sounds … familiar, James.’
‘I get that,’ he said, justifiably abashed. ‘It made me see how badly I’d behaved. How I took you for granted. And it made me remember howgoodyou are. I was a fool to leave you. If you give me another chance, I’ll never let you down again.Please. I can’t go on without you.’
This was getting out of hand. Moreover, James was right about her goodness: Rosie wasn’t ruthless enough to take pleasure in seeing him brought so low that he’d publicly beg for her forgiveness. She was conscious of people milling around in the stairwell beyond the corridor window, of the lift going up and down. A few had already noticed something was happening. This scene was set to become embarrassing for both of them, and she needed to end it.
‘James,’ Rosie said gently, ‘I can see you’re sorry. I hear you. But—’
‘Let me finish,’ he interjected, holding a hand up to stop her talking. Then, to her amazement, he went down on one knee.
‘Rosie, I love you. I want to be with you. We belong together, and I was an idiot to doubt it. I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side – with youonmy side. Please, make me the happiest man in the world and say you’ll marry me.’
She stared down at him in speechless disbelief. Three or four months ago, she’d have given almost anything to hear him say these words. Now, they felt hollow. Meaningless.
He was holding a diamond ring out to her, waiting for her to pluck it from its plush velvet cushion and squeal with delight. It looked suspiciously similar to the ring Dylan had sported on the night of their party – the night Rosie had finally given in to how she felt about Aled.
‘Get up,’ she hissed. ‘Please. This ismental.’
‘Er. Is that a no?’ James asked, scrambling to his feet and rubbing his temple.
‘Let me askyousomething,’ Rosie said, pointing. ‘Is that a second-hand ring?’ James went scarlet. ‘Either way, it’s a very strong, unequivocal,finalno,’ Rosie told him, in the gentlest voice she could muster. ‘You were wrong to finish with me in the way you did,’ she went on. ‘You weren’t honest. But things weren’t working between us – they hadn’t been for a while. Splitting up was the right decision, executed in the worst imaginable way.’
‘Rosie, come on – we were great together. We can get that back.’
‘Things were great for you, because I made everything easy. I put you first in a way you never reciprocated. I don’t want to go back to that. Relationships aren’t like your office computers, James – you can’t switch them off for a bit, then turn them back on and expect that everything will miraculously have started working again.’
‘Well, then – I can change.’
‘Maybe you can. Maybe you’ll cheer on the next person you love – encourage them, empower them, instead of expecting them to be base camp foryourexploits. But I’ve already changed,’ she told him. ‘And I’m sorry, but I just don’t love you anymore. Everything’s different for me now. I want to move forward, not go back.’
James nodded. To Rosie’s horror, a tear rolled down his nose as he dipped his head. It was absolutely typical that she felt sorry for him mere moments after he’d tried to scam her with a recycled engagement ring.
‘Is it … is it because ofhim?’ James asked, spikily. ‘The bike fascist? The guy from upstairs? Are you with him? Do youlovehim?’
Rosie’s heart squeezed painfully.Noandyes, she thought.
‘It’s because of me,’ Rosie said, eventually. ‘And I’m sorry if that hurts. I wish you the best, James – I hope that you’re happy.’
‘Thank you,’ he said, through stifled sobs. ‘That’s probably more than I deserve.’
‘I mean it,’ she said, pulling him in for a quick hug.
‘Only you could be this nice to me after everything. You really are wonderful, you know.’
‘Thanks, James,’ she said – and she meant it. ‘Thank you for finally noticing.’