by Helly Acton
She nods towards the water. ‘Those ducklings are cute, aren’t they? What a scene. How romantic! Anyway, I’m waddling, I’ll leave you guys to it. I mean, waffling. Looks like you’ve got a few things to catch up on. Ben, hope you’re well. Are you growing a beard? Did you know that beards are dirtier than toilet seats? Something to think about. Anyway, maybe I’ll see you later, Mils.’
June spins round and walks back down the path.
‘I should go,’ Millie says, panicking.
‘Why do I feel like June has a problem with me?’ Ben asks.
‘She doesn’t have a problem with you, she’s just worried,’ Millie explains, stepping away from him.
‘Well, she is your soulmate. It’s her job.’
Millie detects a hint of bitterness.
‘What time’s your flight?’ she asks.
‘Ten o’clock tonight.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’ve already said that,’ Ben replies. ‘All that’s left to say is goodbye, I suppose.’
‘Have a good trip, Ben,’ Millie says, turning away from him and hurrying after June.
‘Wait, Millie!’
She pauses and turns around again.
‘What was it you wanted to tell me?’ he shouts.
Millie stares at him from across the pond.
‘It doesn’t matter anymore,’ she shouts back.
And it doesn’t. She can finally put Ben to bed. Not like that, of course.
Thirty-Four
June is waiting alone on a chair by the entrance gates when Millie catches up with her.
‘I was beginning to think you wouldn’t follow me,’ June says, looking up.
‘As if I’d do that,’ Millie responds, out of breath.
‘I really didn’t mean to interrupt you two,’ she says, handing Millie her breakfast. ‘By the time I reached the pond it was too late, and you would have seen me anyway. I thought I’d look like a perv if I watched you in silence. And a creep if I just tiptoed away. Sorry,’ June says, straight-faced.
‘There seem to be a lot of sorrys being said in the park this morning,’ Millie comments. ‘And you didn’t interrupt anything.’
‘It sure looked like something from where I was standing,’ June says, stealing a corner of Millie’s toastie.
‘OK, fine, it was something. But you happened to arrive in the three-second window of a random, spur-of-the-moment goodbye kiss. Before that, we were just talking. Clearing the air, getting some closure,’ Millie replies.
‘I know I don’t have any experience in romantic relationships, but isn’t kissing usually a catalyst, not closure?’ June asks, raising her eyebrows.
‘I suppose,’ Millie replies.
‘What does it mean?’ June asks.
‘What does what mean?’ Millie says.
‘The kiss. What does it mean?’ June repeats.
‘He told me he loves me,’ Millie replies.
‘Jesus,’ June says. ‘What did I tell you? He’s the relationship type. God, I’m good.’
‘Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, anyway,’ Millie replies, feeling a rising irritation at June turning the conversation back to herself and treating the situation so flippantly. ‘He’s on a flight to Sydney tonight, and doesn’t know when, or if, he’s coming back.’
‘Thank fuck,’ June says, ripping off another piece of toastie. ‘Just imagine, you could have been on that flight. Sipping champagne, holding hands, whispering sweet nothings to each other under the blanket, ha! Eurgh, no thanks, dude. Save that for some other sad loser!’
Millie yanks the toastie away from her.
‘Hey!’ June says.
Millie and June have only ever had two proper arguments in their entire lives. The first was when June kept on wearing Millie’s tops without asking. The second was when June started sneaking out in sixth form to go clubbing, and Millie refused to join her and threatened to tell Vivian. Millie senses a third is on its way. Millie leans back on the chair and starts picking at the rest of her cheese toastie.
‘You’re being a dick,’ Millie says, surprised at her outburst. ‘If you met him properly and gave him a chance, for once, you might realise he’s actually lovely. Really lovely. The loveliest. And you might be a little more understanding about why I’m so confused about it all.’
‘Well, I’m sorry that we aren’t all as charmed by him as you, Millie,’ June says. ‘But if we’re going to be honest, something which you haven’t really been up until now, you’ve been a dick recently, too. Ignoring my messages. Standing me up at the cinema. Lying to me about your work trip. Skipping Sunday lunch. Kissing him at the office party and not telling me about it. Who is that? That’s not the Millie I know. You change when you’re with him. And what’s most annoying is that whenever Ben is in the same room, no one else exists. He’s like a weird Millie magnet that pulls you in and no one else has a chance of even having a conversation with you. He might well be the loveliest, but as far as I can see, he isn’t good for you.’
‘First, am I not allowed to have other friends? Must it always be just you, Mum, Ruth and Al? I’m allowed to see other people, June! Second, did I not just come chasing after you? You, June. You don’t see me still standing there with him, so he can’t be that much of a magnet. And I resent the suggestion that I’m weak. I just cut short an important – possibly life-changing – conversation with someone I’m totally in love with, to come and check that my best friend is OK. Magnet, my arse. You’re being really bloody unfair.’
June frowns at her. ‘In love with?’
Millie stares at her in shock.
‘I didn’t say that,’ she eventually replies.
‘Um, yeah, you did.’
‘It was a slip of the tongue,’ Millie replies defensively.
‘Like the one by the pond a few minutes ago?’ June asks.
‘Very funny,’ Millie says sulkily.
‘I thought you took the Oxytoxin?’
‘I did,’ Millie replies.
‘So why would you even have love on the brain? Shouldn’t it be out of your brain by now?’ June prods.
‘I don’t know!’ Millie cries. ‘I need to take the second dose tonight.’
‘Do you think that’s wise?’
‘Of course it is, why wouldn’t it be? I obviously need to.’
‘I thought you were going to take it to prevent falling in love with him. I didn’t realise you already were in love with him. I mean, as reluctant as I am to suggest this, because the idea of you being in love with him makes me freak out, but maybe you should think about that a bit more? There’s no going back after the final pill, right?’
Millie takes a long sip of her coffee, still in shock from her own confession and wondering if she’s made a huge mistake by letting Ben go.
‘What’s the point? He’s leaving in a few hours. It’ll be over soon,’ she says.
‘It’s only Australia. It’s not like he’s disappearing off the face of the planet,’ June replies. ‘You could chase after him, stop him at the airport. You know, if it came to that. Find out what it’s like to be in a, you know, couple. Ugh, that sounds really weird.’
‘Can you picture me doing that?’
‘No, but then I could never have pictured you saying you’re totally in love with someone either, and here we are.’
‘I know myself, June. I’m not the couple type. Besides, I’ve looked at the stats, and relationships don’t last forever. Do you honestly think I should turn my entire life around for this one person, just for it to end eventually? Do we know anyone whose relationship has lasted longer than a few months, apart from Ruth?’
They pause.
‘Ours?’ June says.
‘True. God, why can’t it be as easy as us?’
‘I think it’s obvious what we need to do,’ June says, standing up. ‘We’re calling Al and Ruth for backup. We’re going back to yours. And we’re going to write a good old-fashioned pros and cons list, like we used to.�
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Millie and Ruth are in the kitchen making tea, just like the good old days.
‘Can I ask you something, Mils?’ Ruth says, stirring. ‘How do you know it won’t make you happy if you haven’t tried it?’
‘It’s just feels like way too much change,’ Millie replies. ‘My life is already divided into neat quarters: my career, my friends, my family, myself. That’s all I have time and emotional space for.’
‘But I split my time with Sam. She supports my career. She’s one of my best friends. She’s now part of my family. Of course, myself is just for me. That’s not for sharing. People who aren’t in relationships think that couples are surgically attached, but even couples need their space.’
‘How did you know you loved Sam?’ Millie asks.
‘I think it’s different for everyone,’ Ruth replies. ‘For me, it went something a little like this. At first, it felt like a massive crush. I couldn’t stop thinking of her, and just seeing her name light up on my screen made my insides flip. I knew it was more than a crush when I started to see her everywhere and in everything. I’d notice little things on my way to work that I’d want to tell her about. And when we spoke at night, I wanted to hear about every detail of her day, however mundane. I knew it was love when I realised I was prepared to make certain single-life sacrifices for this woman. Not that she expected me to, of course.’
‘See, that’s what I’m not sure of. I don’t know if I want to sacrifice what I have for him.’
The list is long. It’s also inconclusive. There are the same number of pros and cons when it comes to being in a relationship with Ben. Whether or not Millie should be in a relationship with Ben cannot be strategically deduced. The four of them lean back on June’s sofa to contemplate their work.
‘We could assign each point a different weight of importance?’ Millie suggests. ‘Surely losing your freedom is, on the grand scale of things, more important than sharing your food?’
‘I’d like to repeat that I still object to that point. I haven’t lost my freedom with Sam,’ Ruth says, huffing.
‘But this is me, Ruth,’ Millie says. ‘I feel like I would.’
‘On the sharing food point, what if it’s cheesecake?’ June replies. ‘I mean, it was hard enough for the two of us to share a cheesecake the other day.’
‘Hey, where was my invite?’ Al whines.
‘Ben and I did actually share a cheesecake once,’ Millie says, remembering the night in the hotel room. ‘It was lovely.’
‘What’s with the cheesecake obsession? And why am I suddenly craving one?’ Al says.
‘OK, what about this point?’ Millie says. ‘Splitting my time between Ben and my friends would be level ten. Sharing my wardrobe space would be—’
‘Level eleven. The idea of sharing wardrobe space with someone actually makes me break out in a cold sweat.’ June shudders. ‘Please tell me you don’t do that, Ruth.’
‘No! We have very separate wardrobes. Although, I do occasionally go in and nick her good pyjamas when she’s away on a work trip. And her boots. Sometimes a shirt, too. It’s pretty handy that we’re the same size.’
‘I’m a bit jealous now,’ Al says. ‘Maybe I should be in a couple.’
‘Hold on, who says he’d ever leave things at mine? He has his own place,’ Millie says.
‘Yeah, for now he does!’ June says, loudly. ‘But being in a couple means moving in together. Isn’t that what most couples do, if they don’t break up? Um, case in point right here,’ June says, pointing at Ruth.
‘She’s right,’ Ruth nods. ‘Ben might slowly start creeping his belongings into your flat. First it’ll be a toothbrush. Then it’ll be a pair of pants in your side table. Next, you’re accidentally putting on a shirt of his. That was me, a few months ago.’
‘Accidentally?’ Al lifts an eyebrow.
‘Having someone to cook for you is a plus,’ Ruth says, pointing at the pros list.
‘Ah, but you’d also have to cook for him, or worse, what if he cooks you something you hate?’ June comments, standing up, walking over to the flip chart and pointing at Having to agree on what to eat under the cons list. ‘And then you have to force it down your throat and tell him you really love it.’
‘Are we still talking about food?’ Al asks.
They giggle.
‘What if he cooks it for me every week, and for the rest of my life I have to eat something that makes me gag and then smile afterwards, like he’s done me a favour?’ Millie asks.
‘Seriously though, are we still talking about food?’ Al asks, smirking.
‘Well, that’s a whole other issue,’ June says, pointing at Only ever sliding one person under the cons list.
‘But on the other hand,’ Millie says, pointing at the Having a slide on tap under the pros list.
‘Face it, Millie,’ June says, ‘you’re eating stew and sliding in missionary every Tuesday.’
‘Then comparing notes with Ruth in the morning,’ Al mutters.
‘Hey!’ Ruth cries. ‘We aren’t like that. We’re at least twice a week.’
‘God, I hate stew,’ Millie says.
‘I know you do,’ June replies.
‘You’d never cook me stew.’
‘Never.’
‘But you can get over that,’ Al says. ‘You can be honest and say, “I don’t like stew”. And you can take charge in the bedroom. I mean, isn’t the point of a couple, rather than a slide, that you can be completely honest? Ruth?’
‘I faked it at the beginning with Sam.’
‘In the bedroom?’ Al interjects.
‘No! Well, sometimes. What I meant was that I put out the best version of myself. I pretended I had a CrossFit membership, then had to scramble to get one when she suggested a date there. Cost me an absolute fortune. Went once. But the more time we spent together, the more honest I could be. And, shocker, she accepted me, warts and all. That’s what’s great about a relationship. You can be authentic.’
‘But Sam isn’t asking as much of you as Ben is asking of me. He isn’t just asking me to be in a couple. He’s asking me to quit my job, go travelling, leave this – and all of you – behind. Sam never asked you to do all of that. Him cooking me stew isn’t a big deal to me,’ Millie says.
‘Do you know what is a big deal?’ June says, highlighting a statistic on the board.
89% of couples are unhappy.
‘Where did you get that stat from?’ Ruth says. ‘I bet you I could find one that says the opposite.’
‘And what about that?’ Millie takes the pen and highlights another headline.
Couples live longer than single people, says new study.
‘So, you live longer, but you’re miserable at the same time? I can see the appeal,’ Al says sarcastically.
‘Again, objection!’ Ruth cries.
Millie sighs and strolls back to the sofa, where she plonks herself down on a cushion and stares at the list. As she sits there, it dawns on her that the answer is right there. And that the answer has been there all along, even before they made this stupid list. It has nothing to do with the length of each column, the weight of what’s more important or what the latest research says that completely contradicts the research that came before it. It has to do with the fact that Millie had to make a list in the first place. If she truly loved Ben, would this list even exist? A romantic relationship shouldn’t be built on facts and statistics. A romantic relationship should be built on emotions and feelings. It isn’t something you control or deduce, it’s something you fall into with open arms, unafraid of the pain you might endure when you land.
Millie can’t deny the part of her that wants to jump. The part of her that craves to see him every day. The part of her that would gladly accept most of the cons on this list, because to love someone is to sacrifice putting yourself first. But nor can Millie deny the part of her that wants to step back. To stick to the single life she knows and loves. When life was simple, when her future was clea
r, when her vision board was coming to fruition. To include Ben would mean giving up so much. Time spent with the people most important to her. What would happen to the beach house that she and June have dreamed of? Being with Ben wouldn’t just change the life that Millie has so carefully curated, it would erase the future she’s so carefully planned. June’s future, too. After all, isn’t June the true love of her life? How can she have both?
She hurries to her room and opens her dressing table drawer, pulling out the packet.
‘What are you doing?’ Ruth asks, looking shocked as Millie returns.
‘Making this decision once and for all,’ Millie says, removing the pill from the foil and rolling it around in her fingers.
‘Millie, are you sure you want to do that? There’s no going back,’ June says, stepping forward.
‘Millie, don’t!’ Ruth cries, jumping up.
But it’s too late. Millie puts the final dose in her mouth and takes a hard swallow. There’s a painful lump in her throat. It isn’t the pill.
Thirty-Five
Millie prises open her heavy eyelids and stares up at the ceiling of her safe space. She wasn’t in the mood for a Saturday night out with the others after the list exercise. She’d made the list. She’d taken the pill. But her mind was still buckling under the weight of the what ifs and why nots. What if taking Oxytoxin was a huge mistake? Why not give Ben a chance? As soon as the others left, she dragged herself over to Vivian’s, where she slunk into her childhood bed to lay her racing mind to rest.
She taps her phone on the side table. It’s 3 a.m. She’s already been asleep for eight hours. Sinking further under the duvet, she pulls it over her face, feeling sorry for herself. Millie has read the small print on the packet at least twenty times. Nothing in the side effects suggests she’d feel like this. Like she hasn’t slept in months. Like she hasn’t eaten in days, but also like she never wants to eat again. Like she’s empty.
She wonders where Ben’s plane is right now, and then silently tuts at herself. Aside from her fatigue, it’s as if nothing has changed. All she can think of is him. Their last conversation. That one night. That kiss. Is Oxytoxin a total sham? She pats her face under the covers. It feels puffy. An allergic reaction, perhaps.
