In Summary
  • Immediately she opened her door and saw the look on my face, she stepped aside so I could go on, walked off into the kitchen while I made my way to the living room, and came back with a large glass of red wine.
  • “You look like you need this,” she’d said. I said nothing, but I am sure she sensed the gratitude when I took the glass from her and gulped down a huge sip.

“I don’t know what to say to him!” I wail. I am wringing my hands on Jo’s couch, having ran to her house seeking solace after my lunch with Chris. Earlier on I called Ciku and told her I was unwell and going to see a doctor, and asked her to cancel her appointments, and then I ran straight over to Jo’s without even calling ahead to warn her that I was on the way.

Immediately she opened her door and saw the look on my face, she stepped aside so I could go on, walked off into the kitchen while I made my way to the living room, and came back with a large glass of red wine. “You look like you need this,” she’d said. I said nothing, but I am sure she sensed the gratitude when I took the glass from her and gulped down a huge sip. Then she sat down opposite me, silent, waiting for me to speak. And here we are.

“Don’t know what to say to whom?” Jo asks me. She watches me for a few seconds as my facial expression changes from anguish to resolve to confusion to… generally just looking like a woman with constipation trying to take a dump. And then finally, her eyes open wide as it dawns on her. “Oh my God, Chris?” I give her a sheepish nod. “Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God!” she yelps as her hands fly up to her cheeks. “This is so exciting!”

I stare pointedly into my wine glass. “Is it not…?” she prods. “I mean, I know you’ve been loving him forever-,”

“I have not!” I interrupt her.

“Oh girl, please,” Jo waves my resistance away. “We have all seen the googly eyes you two make at each other. It’s kinda interesting to watch. I take another large gulp of wine and contemplate my words. “I mean, I like him a lot…”

“Like him a lot? Hehe.” Jo waves her fingers in quote marks and snickers. I take a last gulp of the wine, which clears the glass, and hold it forward to Jo for her to re-fill. She stands up, walks into the kitchen and returns with the bottle. “Might as well just give you all of it, it looks like you need it. Now tell me everything and start from the top.”

And I do. I tell her about dinner at Chris’ house the other night, and the circumstances that led up to our conversation, up until he told me: “There. I’ve put my cards on the table. Now it’s up to you to decide.”

“So what did you tell him?!” Jo leans forward in anticipation.

“Well… I said I just needed some time to process it all, and… and…” I take a deep breath, “…I just feel like… I mean, I am sooo… I don’t know what this is… confused?”

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