RomCom Cliché

Chapter Eleven

Two weeks before Freen's birthday, Rebecca wound up in her apartment, sitting on the sofa with a glass of rosé as she subjected Freen to the timeless classic of Notting Hill.

Containers of Thai food cluttered the coffee table, amidst the bottle of wine and their abandoned work, Freen giving up on the book about attachment styles long before Rebecca gave up on the settlement deed she'd been drafting.

It was getting late, the sound of sirens filling the night as a cool breeze swept in through the open window, the two of them dwelling mostly in silence as they watched the movie. Rebecca's eyes were burning from staring at a screen for too long, and the wine made her lethargic as she stretched out across from Freen, a blanket spread across their laps.

"So, what're you doing for your birthday?" Rebecca asked, raising her eyebrows suggestively as she reached out to pick her glass up.

Hesitating, Freen blinked and opened and closed her mouth. "Oh, um, not a lot. Why?"

"I thought you might be doing something with your friends? Family?"

Forehead creasing with a pensive look, Freen took a sip of wine and cradled the glass in her lap. "Oh, not really. Just drinks, I think. But what do you want to do?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. I figured we'd probably do something together, right? Go out for dinner or something."

Mouth opening and closing, Rebecca frowned and tilted her head to the side. "I mean... yeah, I've got something planned, but... I thought--"

Turning her head from the TV, Freen raised her eyebrows in an innocent look, waiting for Rebecca to reply. Faltering, Rebecca waved a hand dismissively and let her eyes stray back to the TV as her stomach tied itself into knots.

"Doesn't matter."

She could feel Freen still watching her at the other end of the sofa and raised her glass, draining half of it in one go, the sweetness of the rosé tasting awfully sour as her mood dipped. Freen nudged her with her foot, raising her eyebrows as the blanket shifted over the laps.

"What's wrong?"

Shaking her head, Rebecca was silent for a moment before her disbelief got the better of her and she faced Freen. There was a slack look of bewildered surprise on her face as she cocked her head to the side.

"Are you seriously not going to invite me?" Rebecca quietly exclaimed with a choked laugh.

Shifting uneasily, Freen wiped her palms on her thighs as she cleared her throat, looking sheepish and uncomfortable. "I- it's... complicated."

"What's complicated about taking your girlfriend out for drinks? Is it the fact that you'll have to tell them that I exist?"

Rebecca snorted as she looked at Freen with a wounded look in her eyes, her crooked smile wavering as her stomach sank. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Freen squeezed her eyes shut and grit her teeth.

"Yes. Yes, that's complicated. Can we just leave it at that? Please."

Freen's frustration petered off into a soft plea and Rebecca scowled as she stiffly climbed to her feet, draining the rest of her glass and moving into the kitchen. 

She snatched up the wine opener and removed the foil from a new bottle, winding the corkscrew into the cork as her frustration simmered and the sound of Hugh Grant's voice filled the tense apartment.

Refilling her glass, Rebecca took a sip and leaned against the counters, a flat look on her face as she rolled the taste of wine around her mouth, trying to stifle the disappointment, the confusion, the aching in her chest.