It took an hour of tossing and turning before Justin accepted that he was not getting to sleep.

He’d always been prone to insomnia, but had expected after such a long and heavy going day to be out for the count. He’d said goodnight to Reese, dashed upstairs, washed up and then dived straight into bed within the space of ten minutes, all in anticipation of it. It didn’t happen. Instead the red numbers of his alarm clock glared aggressively out into the darkness. The soft whirring of the air conditioner seemed obnoxious. Although he shut his eyes and nestled into his usual position sleep remained elusive. He’d tried throwing off the covers, he’d tried turning over. He’d tried every mental trick he could think of to clear his brain.

At two minutes past one in the morning he gave it up and put the light back on. With a grumpy scowl he sat back up, surveying his room as if it was to blame. Briefly he considered putting the TV on, but he’d heard somewhere that the light made you more awake. That wrote off any internet surfing too, and he wasn’t much of a reader. The same article also claimed that you should leave your bedroom so you didn’t associate it with lack of sleep; he was starting to see the wisdom in that. For some reason as he was looking at the soft grey furnishings and the blue accents Justin wasn’t calmed as he usually was. He was irritated. He disliked the plush carpet, he disliked the cream walls. He hated the silver picture frames and most especially that stupid clock.

Wondering if a hot drink would help, he decided the kitchen was the next port of call. His steps to the door were quiet and deliberate. Gingerly he turned the handle and started pulling the door open, trying to avoid any tell tale squeaks. As it turned out he needn’t have bothered, because as soon as it was open he could see that the door to the spare room was ajar and the light off. You couldn’t wake up somebody who wasn’t there. He knew she wasn’t because Reese never slept with a door open – not even the closet door or the one to their en suite bathroom. He’d always teased her about it.

“Reese?” he called out.

On getting no reply, he jogged downstairs. It was still in darkness. Had she maybe fallen asleep down here? No, he reasoned – if she’d nodded off a light would still be on.

“Reese?”

It was of course possible that she was ignoring him, but the other place he could try was the back yard. It wasn’t a good idea to go yelling for her out there however in case the neighbours heard. Instead he grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen drawer and headed outside.

As it turned out he didn’t need the flashlight, because he could see a light on in the summer house. It was a little hexagonal hut of bleached white wood, lined inside with benches. During the warmer months they often put a fold out table in there to use it for barbecues, but most of the time it was covered in cushions and throws for Reese to use it as a reading nook. Sometimes on nice nights they had lit some candles in there and used it for drinks, whether on their alone time or when they had friends over. It was nice to stretch out on the cushion covered floor and talk through the night. Since she’d been gone he hadn’t opened it much.

Justin half expected her to have fallen asleep in there, but as he approached he could see her sitting up with her back against the bench.

“Hey,” he said as he poked his head around the door.

If she was startled by his arrival she didn’t show it. “Oh, hi. Guess you couldn’t sleep either?”

“No. Saw you’d left your room open and wanted to check you were okay. Are you okay?”

“Just been a rough day, my brain won’t quit.”

“What’s up?”

Reese’s head turned sideways, her eyes downcast away from him.

“You know, by my reckoning we still got a good nine and a half hours left on that ‘pretend we’re still friends’ deal. If you wanna tell me about it I’ll listen.”

When she didn’t say anything he stepped inside and crossed over to her. He eased his body down, half expecting her to tell him to stop, but she didn’t object as he sat beside her. He still made sure to keep a respectable few inches between them. She was like a skittish animal when it came to him, he didn’t want to push his luck.

Reese tipped her head back against the wood, crossing her feet at the ankles. They were stretched out in front of her as she sat on her favourite cushion, plush navy velvet. She’d forgotten about this cushion. She’d nearly forgotten about this hut, even though it was one of her favourite places to chill out. On the frequent occasions that Justin was on tour and her job didn’t allow her to follow him full time, she’d often spent a night out here with a book and a glass of wine. It rivalled a good long soak in the tub for its healing properties.

This evening however she was remembering other moments in the hut, ones which weren’t helped by the appearance of the other participant. Some were chilled, some were romantic, and some were less wholesome. Trying to reconcile that guy and the one who betrayed her was a real mind twister. Today was forcing her to rethink it, however, because for the first time in a long while she’d seen him live and in person. That guy was still in there. The man who’d listen to her troubles and help pay for a friend’s funeral didn’t much resemble the one who had been antagonising her… but he did still exist.

“Honestly, I’m fine. Just need to be quiet, that’s all.”

Justin’s finger traced over the floral pattern on one of the pillows. “You’re obviously not fine. You can still talk to me, you know.”

“Really? Does the deal really extend to spilling our guts when in nine and a half hours it’s going to be back to waiting for the next shot? Not sure I want to give you the ammo.”

It wasn’t even snippy. That was probably why it shamed him so much more than any other occasion when she’d got irritated with his behaviour. It was sad and matter of fact.

“You know, Reese…” He bowed his head and scratched at the nape of his neck. “I meant it when I said I want us to get along better. I was hurt and angry and lashing out, and I’m sorry that I was such a dick to you. But do we really have to go back to being at each other’s throats like that? Can’t we move on?”

“See, this is what I hate.” She let out a hiss of exasperated air. “You make it sound like this is my fault, like I’m the one who chose to make it this way.”

His eyes widened in horror. Damn it – he probably should have realised she’d take it badly. These days she interpreted his every move badly. If rose tinted glasses made you look at somebody too kindly, she was wearing blacked out goggles.

“God no, that’s not what I meant.”

“I mean, what is that?” Now she’d started the words kept coming unbidden, even though she’d wanted to avoid a dialogue not start one. “You cheat on me, you break my heart, and yet you’re the one who gets to be hurt and angry and lash out? In what kind of world are you entitled to be the one in that position or to get mad?”

“Well…” Oh this was dangerous territory. He hadn’t come out here to get into this with her, especially since it wasn’t going to be conducive to finding restful sleep. “I don’t think it’s anything to do with who has the right. You had it but you never took the opportunity though, did you?”

“What?” When her face turned to him her eyes were blazing icily.

“Look, Reese, I really don’t want to upset you, but the fact is you had every opportunity to get mad and to yell and to hit me and call me whatever name it is you think I deserved. But you didn’t. You didn’t want to see me, hear me, talk to me - not even to tear me a new one. Honestly, I kind of wish you had because I feel like maybe we could have got past it all a lot earlier.”

“What, like you think it would have all been okay and gone back to normal if I’d called you some names? Thrown some crockery?”

“I doubt it.” Justin snorted. “But… I don’t know. Maybe you could have got that out of your system and we could have talked. I don’t know what would have happened, but maybe we could have fixed it or closed the door on it or whatever. Instead, you tried first to act like I didn’t exist and then to make me into some frickin’ fairy tale villain. And I got mad, and angry, and eventually I started running my mouth because at least THAT got some kind of reaction out of you.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault you chose to be a douche?”

“NO!” He growled out, his fingers flexing in the air as he gesticulated. It was as if they were squeezing the neck of some imaginary foe. “That is not what I’m saying; I am not blaming you for anything I did. I’m a grown ass man and I made my choices. I’m just trying to explain to you what was going through my head - it wasn’t just coming from me being some evil bastard who enjoyed seeing you hurt. But I know I screwed up, and you had every right to be mad.”

Reese remained silent at this point. She stared crossly out at the door and refused to make eye contact. Her arms were folded across her chest, defensive and defiant, but he took the silence as a sign that at least something was getting through.

“But yeah, I was hurt and angry that you never heard me out or gave me a chance to explain. I was pissed that you could cut me out of your world like I never existed. You and Trace… you’ve been there all my life. It’s like he’s my left arm and you’re my right, but you just up and turned your back like it was nothing. And no offence to T,” he tried to brighten up his voice, nudging her softly with an elbow, “but I ain’t never been left handed.”

He was trying to lighten up the tone, though if he was honest with himself that last part was anything but a joke. Trace was his boy, but where he was the partner in crime she was the anchoring rock. She was the point he went back to when he wasn’t sure of himself. If ever he was on the outs with Trace it was like being on a limb without someone to yank him back if he fell. In contrast, being on the outs with Reese made him feel adrift without a compass.

“Why shouldn’t I?” She asked, bitter. “Why shouldn’t I leave? Why should I give you a chance to weasel out of it? You were my best friend all my life too, but that didn’t seem to mean so much to you when you were screwing somebody else.”

Justin sighed, hating the way her lips had thinned and her hands were folded so tightly away. “I didn’t actually, but again you never gave me a chance to explain that.”

“I caught you red handed.”

“Yep, but it hadn’t gone that far. Wasn’t going to, either, but I’m not going to sit here and force the story down your throat if you still don’t want to hear it. My point is, Reese…” He inhaled deeply, his shoulders hunching over. “I’ve been acting out, but in my own way… moronic, ass backwards way… it’s because I miss you and I’m mad at the situation.”

For the first time the hazel eyes that flicked sideways at him didn’t bear the same hard glint. At least that was encouraging.

“I’m aware of how utterly stupid that is, but I’ve found it hard to exercise any kind of emotional control around you in the last year. I miss you, I’m mad at myself for screwing things up, and in this fucked up way I was so desperate to get some kind of connection to you back that I would do whatever it was to provoke a reaction, because at least it meant you were sayin’ something to me. And what I’m saying to you now is that I’d like to quit that, and get back to a place where you’re not afraid I’m going to be mean to you every time I open my mouth.”

Unfolding her arms, Reese clasped her hands together in her lap instead. Intently watching them, as if the shifting of her thumbs would give her any assistance, she sat there mute for a few moments. This was not the first intense conversation she’d had with Justin in this hut. It was by far her least favourite. Her eyes travelled forward, and dimly in the back of her head she noted that they were both wearing identical grey sweatpants. His foot was twitching.

“You know what I was out here thinking about?”

“No. Guess we kind of got distracted from that conversation.” The sarcasm slipped out before he could stop it. His lungs felt oddly winded, as if he’d been running and not sitting around talking.

“I was thinking about today, and being back here, and all these memories I have of this life that I’m now completely removed from. There was you, acting like the human being I used to know and not the asshole who’s been taunting me for the last few months. And suddenly I’m wondering where the hell I am and how I got here, and whether I’m doing the right thing, and all I can think is that if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have this problem. I was happy. I loved my life. Then you messed it up, and now you’re telling me how hurt and mad you are about it like I should sympathise.”

There was some horrid little part of Justin hoping that meant she was reconsidering her wedding. Wisely he didn’t give it voice.

“I don’t mean that you should sympathise…” The words came out slow. He was trying to be careful and deliberate in his next comments. “One of the reasons you’ve always been good for me Reese is that you’ve always understood me and where I was coming from even when you thought I was going wrong. Or doing wrong. I guess I just had this hope that if you’d ever let me talk it through with you then at least you wouldn’t hate me. Because whatever else, you know me better than anybody. Which is why the whole thing where you started acting like I was devil spawn really got to me. Because if you could think that after knowing me that close for so long…”

“What else am I supposed to think about a guy I loved that long who could do that to me so easy?”

“Maybe… you could think that I’m the same guy. Guy who just messed up,” he suggested.

Reese pushed a hand back through her hair and shifted, crossing her legs under herself. He was doing it again. He was making far too much sense and he was wheedling his way into making her doubt her feelings.

“I can’t think of you as the same person, Justin.” A defeated sigh left her lips. “Because the one I loved could be an ass, and he could be a screw up, but not like that. Not against me like that.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He abruptly changed the subject. This conversation might have been excruciating but it was long overdue and he had no idea how much more he’d get out of her before she inevitably flounced off in outrage. He might as well just go for it. There was far too much he’d wanted to say to her for a very long time. Who knew when she would feel inclined to listen to it again?

Reese bristled - as if this tête-à-tête hadn’t already disturbed her thinking space enough on an already trying day. What was the game now? Even so, thus far there hadn’t been any yelling. He hadn’t been rude or mean, despite it being a difficult conversation. If they could do that like adults then who was to say that his next comment would be bad?

Scrunching up her face, she shrugged. “Why the hell not. Can’t make this any worse.”

“We were engaged all that time, and you never wanted to make any moves towards organising the wedding. You meet this guy, and suddenly you’re sprinting down the aisle like there’s somebody chasing you. Why? I’m not criticising, or anything,” he hastened to add, “I just don’t get it. Why’d you want to marry a guy you just met when you didn’t want to marry the guy you’d been with for years?”

“W-what?” She was so flabbergasted she forgot to be mad. Not only had the mention of Drake caught her off guard, she couldn’t believe he was looking at it like that. Had that been fuelling his behaviour too? Had he been jealous? “I didn’t want to marry you? How can you say that?”

“You tell me you loved your life and you hate me for wrecking it… but in two seconds flat you completely rewrote your entire life. Not just the parts that involved me. Your goals, your job, the way you dress, the way you act, everything! That’s how I can say that. Because you talk about me not being the same, but you really act like a totally different person.” Justin became animated. His palms were held out in the air while his entire body shifted back and forth, as if between the two.

“How could you walk away just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “if you loved it all so much? And you can’t tell me that’s all my fault, because breaking up with me doesn’t mean any of those things have to follow. It’s just hard for me to reconcile what you’re saying with what’s happened.”

He was hitting all kinds of nerves, especially after the last two days, but she couldn’t formulate a good response. Instead all that came out was a squeak. “But that’s absurd. Why do you think I said yes if I didn’t want to marry you?”

“I don’t know.” He stared up at the ceiling and bitterness crept into his voice. “All I know is that I was already worried you were getting cold feet before that whole thing, and everything you’ve done since you left me just seems to back that up. Which also contributed to the hurt and angry thing.”

“Oh – my – GOD.” She spat out. “That whole wedding date thing? You’ve had a stick up your ass this whole time because we didn’t get around to setting a date before you cheated on me?”

“Were we ever going to set one? Honestly? Because I can’t help looking at your behaviour then versus your behaviour now, when a wedding can be done in no time flat, and wondering if the problem was that you just didn’t want to marry me. And I’m here to tell you peanut that there is nothing in my life that has ever burned me like that thought does.”

With that one short speech she’d gone from hopping mad to her eyes brimming with tears. Even the peanut slip passed her by. “I loved you more than anything, how dare you.”

Something about the comment set him off. It was the spark that lit the fuse, and now he no longer cared about treading softly or forcing things down her throat. He no longer cared what she did or didn’t want to hear. This thing had been chewing away at his insides for too long and it was coming out whether that was smart or not. His body needed to purge it.

“How dare I? You want to know the truth, Reese? The God awful truth? The reason you found me like that was because I’d had a shitty day, I was hammered, and then I got yet another text message from you saying to forget about August because you’d have some dumb fucking project due, like you couldn’t have handed it off. That was the moment I realised that you were never going to set the damn date, and when some girl came hitting on me I was thinking with my drunk, bruised ego.”

Yet again he continued on in her silence, not caring how far he pushed her.

“And you know the dumb thing? The really ridiculous thing?” His fist pounded itself into the nearest pillow of its own accord. “It didn’t even help! It didn’t make me feel any better, because what I wanted was you. I didn’t want some faceless girl to want me; I wanted you to want to marry me. I took her upstairs and within about 60 seconds of her kissing me I knew it was pointless and I had to kick her out. That was when you walked through the door. I lost you, I screwed up everything, because of five fucking minutes of drunk self-pity.”

Tears were streaming down Reese’s face at this point, but she was incapable of wiping them away or even registering them as they slid onto her neck and shirt. Her eyes were pointed unseeingly at a spot on the window, her face pale. It was odd to think of Katy Marron, superstar, as being ‘some faceless girl’ to him. That was somewhat ironic when she’d spent so much time tormenting herself with comparisons and assuming that was what had tempted Justin away. She’d thought it must be because Katy was prettier, she was famous in her own right, she had more money.

She even remembered the text message. She’d been at the airport, waiting for her bag, and she’d been checking her work e-mails. To think – if she’d waited to mention it in person instead of texting him while she was thinking about it, the entire story might have been different.

This appeared to be the point at which he’d broken her, because he would have expected her to reply by now. The eruption of fury should have been volcanic, but she didn’t seem to have any fight left for the conversation. As he came down from the adrenalin of finally venting everything he’d been holding in for the past twelve months, he started to feel once more ashamed. Reese was oddly pretty when she cried like that. She looked like a fine china doll with her hands clasped neatly in her lap. Maybe it was the lack of expression on her face. This wasn’t like the church when she’d been hunched over and her features twisted with grief. Now she was inhumanly still.

“I…” Justin was much quieter now, head ducked away from her in embarrassment. “I guess that’s just what I need you to know. I made my screw ups and I got nobody to blame but me, but I want you to understand I didn’t do it because I didn’t care about you. I… I care, but I’ve kept making the wrong choices about how to handle it. Maybe if I’d been better at explaining it earlier you wouldn’t have felt the need to leave town or hate me. And I’m sorry. There’s nothing I want more than to undo it, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

There was still nothing.

Justin had probably completely alienated her and ensured that his attempt at brokering a more permanent civility failed. There now seemed little else to say and few other ways he could possibly make this worse for himself. Without saying anything else he got up and left the hut. The only positive outcome was that he was now bone tired. At least sleep would come of it if nothing else.