Shout Out to My Ex by Sandy Barker

Author:Sandy Barker [Barker, Sandy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books

‘Elle, Leo, we’re just going to get some lunch,’ says Cassie. ‘Did you want to come?’

Somehow, several hours have passed since Leo arrived. We’ve been bouncing ideas off each other with a dozen or so rounds of ‘What about this?’ and ‘Yes, and how about this?’ The workbench is now littered with sheets of paper, and each of those are covered with sketches and notes.

‘Oh, er…’ I look to Leo. ‘Are you hungry?’

He flicks his wrist and checks the time. ‘Starving,’ he says, ‘but I kinda wanna…’

‘Me too.’ I turn to Cassie. ‘We’re staying. We’ll order in.’

‘Suit yourselves,’ she says, then shepherds the team out the door.

‘I really am starving,’ says Leo.

‘I know,’ I reply, picking up my phone. ‘I really am ordering lunch.’ I open the delivery app and start scrolling. ‘So, Thai, Indian, Persian, Ethiopian… We’re in the best part of London. Spoilt for choice.’

When I look up, he’s watching me. ‘What? None of those take your fancy?’

‘It’s not that.’ His eyes bore into mine and the mood between us shifts.

‘Oh. Then what?’ I ask in a hushed tone.

‘It’s just… Never mind.’

I inch forward, as if I’m being lured by a giant magnet. ‘Tell me.’

‘Just…’ He breaks eye contact, his gaze dropping to my mouth, and I swallow – hard. ‘It used to be like this, remember?’ he says, meeting my eye with slight smile. ‘We’d be working on our assignments, in the design studio till all hours, sparking off each and⁠—’

Something inside me clicks and I emerge from the nostalgic fugue.

‘Until you left.’

‘What?’

The rage bubbles up so quickly and completely, it consumes me. I glare at him, my hands in fists.

‘Not so much sparking after you gave me a day’s notice, then left the country, never to be heard from again.’

‘Wow, okay, so… I guess deserve that.’

‘You guess?’ I spit, my nails digging into my palms. ‘You completely ignored every attempt I made to contact you. How could you do that?’

His eyes fall away and his jaw clenches.

‘How did we ever think this would work, collaborating on a collection?’ I start to pace. ‘I mean, what were we thinking? What were you thinking? Were you ever going to explain why you broke off all contact after you left London? Were you ever going to apologise? Or did you think we’d just work side by side, merrily going along and ignoring the GIANT FUCKING ELEPHANT in the room?’

I stop pacing and glare at him. ‘Well?’

He takes a deep breath then looks up to meet my eye. ‘You’re right – about all of it. I do owe you an explanation – and an apology – but I’ve been too…’

He pauses, as if searching for the right word.

‘…cowardly,’ he says eventually. ‘I was worried that if I said anything, it would dredge up all these awful feelings and you wouldn’t want to work with me – or even see me. I completely fucked that up – I get that now.’

His contrition activates an emotional pressure valve. Even without an apology, without an explanation, the tight coil of fury inside me starts to unwind.

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