The mid-morning sunlight cut through the kitchen blinds, casting bright stripes on the bench-top where Olivia had stationed her laptop and mug of coffee. It was Valentine's Day and Matt hadn't reserved anywhere yet for dinner.
She typed 'best restaurants in Sydney' into Google and waited for the results to pop up. If he couldn't be bothered booking a table on the most important night of the year, she would do it herself and hit him where it hurt the most; in his pocket.
Olivia was distracted by an email alert flashing across the top corner of her screen. She just about caught the name before it faded away. Ethan Hollander. A surge of excitement shot through her as she closed the restaurants tab and opened her emails. It had been at least a decade since she'd seen that name, or the man it belonged to. Her heartbeat quickened as she double-clicked on the message.
Hi Olivia,
I hope you and Matt are keeping well. I bumped into your sister over Christmas and she mentioned that you're in Sydney now. I asked her for your email address, hope you don't mind...
My ship is in Sydney overnight for repairs and I'm coming ashore, just wondering if you and Matt fancied meeting for a beer.
I know it's Valentine's Day and you probably already have plans, but it would be great to catch up.
Ethan
Her stomach somersaulted as she read his email again just to check it was real. She wondered what he looked like now. He didn't have any social media accounts and previous attempts at finding photos of him online had always resulted in nothing. She was 18 the last time she'd seen him, just a teenager. He was breathtakingly handsome, even at that age, muscular and chiselled with film star looks and a mop of tousled brown hair.
They'd been at high school together, her Ethan and Matt. The boys had played rugby for the same team. Olivia had always felt a strange connection to Ethan, but something or someone had always prevented them from hooking up. Even now though, at almost 30, just the mention of his name was enough to make her tingle with excitement. She couldn't pass up on an opportunity to see him again.
She could hear Matt padding down the stairs. She tightened the belt of her silk dressing gown and instinctively ran a hand through her hair. Olivia knew that she needed to get Matt on side if this meeting was to go ahead.
"Morning, baby," she said, hopping down from her stool and wrapping her arms around his neck. He felt warm and clammy, a victim of the sticky February weather.
Olivia hoped that Ethan had aged better than Matt. Good-looking in his teens and early 20s, Matt was now distinctly average. His once thick hair had started to recede and his six-pack had been replaced by a beer belly. He didn't play sport any more, complaining that his high-flying job in banking took up too much of his time. Since moving to Sydney two years ago they'd been leading separate lives. Olivia occupied herself with yoga, beach visits and the odd freelance graphic design job, whilst Matt spent 14 hours a day working and commuting.
"Morning," he said, sliding his phone out of his dressing gown pocket and clicking straight into his email app.
"Guess what?" she said cheerily, pulling away to refill the kettle and make a pot of coffee.
He mumbled an inaudible response as he scrolled through the dozens of unopened messages.
"Do you remember Ethan Hollander?"