in time // h.s.

xxvi. janet

Twenty-three years old...

It was Harry and Alex's turn to head out our way that Sunday and, rather than stick to the High Road, we decided to go down to the Old Ship, a pub that sat on the river with great scenic views of the city. We'd found it the previous summer and loved spending our warm nights under the twinkling fairy lights which hung over their wooden benches. It was just as heaving in the winter months, but luckily we'd booked a table. The place was rammed with people who'd gone for walks along the river only to find themselves in need of warming up after being frozen by the bitterly cold December air, families fooled into not wearing enough layers of clothing by the bright blue skies.

Matty and I were sitting in our window seats, people-watching the walking ice-pops, when Harry and Alex arrived, both looking rather pleased with themselves as they fought their way through the other diners. Hugs, squeezes (not that sort) and kisses were shared before they whipped off their jackets and sat in their seats. The drinks hadn't even been ordered by the time Alex leaned across, unable to contain her excitement any longer, and shrieked out their news.

"We're getting married! Harry asked me last night. You're the first people we're telling," she giggled, before looking at Harry with admiration. "We've not even told our parents yet."

There was an indisputable momentary hiatus, which probably shouldn't have occurred, as Matty and I looked to Harry for confirmation. I knew the cause of my own surprise, but not Matty's.

"It's true," Harry laughed, grabbing hold of her hand and beaming back at us.

They looked ridiculously happy and in love.

"Wow! Congratulations," I smiled.

"Brilliant, just brilliant," added Matty, with a slight edge to his voice.

It didn't take me long to notice the absence of a diamond ring, letting me assume the proposal had been a hasty decision on Harry's part. I wondered why. I'd thought Alex might have been pregnant, that Harry was keen to do the right thing by her and their unborn baby, but as Prosecco was ordered to toast their engagement and swiftly drunk by Alex, the idea was quickly erased. There was no baby. In fact, as the afternoon wore on, Harry revealed that he hadn't intended on asking the question, it popped out and surprised him just as much as it had Alex. Not that either of them seemed to mind its spontaneity. The fact that it was an off-the-cuff decision seemed, to them, to make the whole thing more romantic.

I liked Alex a lot. I even liked her and Harry together. Having her there, as a part of our group, had, in the end, made life easier for the pair of us. Everything was less awkward with her around. She made it easier to pretend certain feelings had never been an issue, that boundaries had never been crossed. I hadn't, however, expected Harry to ask her to marry him. Ever. The thought hadn't even crossed my mind.

I'd taken Charlotte's advice all those years before, and reminded myself of her words regularly. That day was one of those times, as I realized I wasn't the only one who'd chosen their path and stuck to it. It occurred to me that, if Harry was willing to make such a grand gesture, prompted by the love he felt for Alex, I was far from his mind. I can't deny it, the truth stung probably more than it should have.

Alex radiated joy that afternoon, she had a real sparkle of happiness in her eyes, and talked non-stop. Clearly buzzing with elation as she reeled off endless possible ideas for their wedding, all the while smiling at Harry as though we weren't even there. The omission was probably a good thing, as neither of them seemed to notice the lull coming from our side of the table. Yes, I wasn't the only one dubious about the sudden announcement, Matty seemed off about it too. He acted strangely all afternoon, was quieter than usual and appeared agitated, not that he admitted to it.

"You okay?" I asked as we walked the short journey back to our house, holding hands through our matching black gloves. Even though we both had on our thick winter coats, mine hunter green, his black, the wind managed to work its way in and chill our bones wherever it could, causing my jaw to chatter uncomfortably as we talked.

"Yeah. Course," he frowned.

"Weird to think that one of us will be getting married," I laughed, trying to prompt him into a conversation.

"Yeah."

"I never thought it would be Harry going first, though."

"You're telling me," he answered glumly.

"They both seem really happy about it."

"Yeah."

"Wondered if she was pregnant at first."

"Me too."

"She's not, though."

"No."

"You sure you're okay, Matt?" I asked, getting irritated with his monosyllabic responses.

"What? Yeah. Just got a lot on," he sighed. "School stuff."

"Right."

I knew he was lying, but didn't want to push any conversation involving Harry. My guess was that he was just disgruntled because Harry, his bestest buddy, hadn't shared the news with him first, or given any warning that it might have been a possibility.

It was also possible that he could have been a bit sad to realize that they were about to become even more divided than ever. Before I'd come along they'd been an indivisible duo, by each other's side night and day, but since we were eighteen they'd become more and more separated. First by university, then by living apart. I wondered whether he was worried marriage would separate them even further. Matty might put on a tough exterior, but his friendship with Harry was something he always treasured and valued highly.

Sometimes men were more complex than women gave them credit for. I left him to his own thoughts, knowing that, if he wanted to share them, he'd do so in his own time.

He never did.