I can feel the tears on my cheeks, and I turn my hand in his and squeeze back.
“Afterwards … I couldn’t bear to think about her. So, I shut her up in a box and tried to get on with life. But I was broken, and what I got on with wasn’t life; it was existence, and it wasn’t fair to you. I can see that now. And I will regret it until my dying breath. As I’ll regret the loss of her.”
“Do you regret meeting her? Having me?” I can see in his face and hear in his voice the pain it’s causing him to remember. But he doesn’t hesitate.
“No. Not even for a second. I wouldn’t trade those years with Vibeke for anything in the world. Because I wasliving,hen. That was when I was most alive. No amount of pain or regret will ever eclipse it. Never shy away from love, Lulu. Nothing else in this world matters.” The passion and pain in his voice crack something open inside of me. It’s small, but it’s there.
I lie awake in bed most of the night, thinking over Dad’s advice. I’ve spent my whole life avoiding letting anyone get too close because I lived through what it did to my father to lose my mother. And now I’ve gone from not wanting to be in a relationship at all to the most committed one of all. Motherhood. Maybe I’ve been looking at this all wrong. Maybe letting someone in isn’t dangerous. Maybe keeping them out is. Because you’re cheating yourself of those little bubbles of sunshine that make life worthwhile. And despite all my efforts to avoid hurt, I’ve hurt myself the most by refusing to let Nick in.
Rosanna is right. I love Nick and I used the photo as a convenient excuse to run. I should have at least given him a chance to explain, because, right up till the end, he never once gave me a reason to suspect he was anything but honest. Now I have to at least hear him out. For all of us.
Nick would be well within his rights to be furious with me. And there’s always the possibility he won’t want a baby. We never talked about children because we deluded ourselves into believing it was all no-strings. I think about the way I’d catch Nick looking at me sometimes, with such warmth it turned his eyes to molten silver. The way he took care of me when I was stressed, sending me food and making me tea. The flowers he sent before the exhibit. If he was not interested in a relationship, what was all that about?
I was angry because I thought he lied. About Eleanor and his plans for the future. But I did too. About my feelings. And that’s not fair. To Nick, or me, or our baby.
I sit up and fish my old phone out of the bedside drawer, crossing my fingers as I turn it on. The battery is completely dead, so I swap it on the charger with my new phone and wait for a flicker of life.
As the screen lights up, a melody of notifications bounces into the room. My heart is thundering. As recently as two days ago, Nick was still messaging and emailing. I scroll through them without opening any, checking dates. Not a day has gone past that he hasn’t sent something. My heart stops. Until two days ago. There’s been nothing for two days. Has he finally given up? Decided I’m not worth the trouble? Gone back to Eleanor? No. No, no, nope. That can’t be. I love him. And I think he loves me. No. Iknowhe loves me. And I’m having his baby. A baby he knows nothing about. Crap. Crap, crap, crappity crap. Time to sort this mess out.
Chapter Thirty-One
Nick
Themorningaftermychat with Will, I have Mandy booking a one-way flight to Glasgow, and then I bury myself in getting this merger over the line. I can work twenty-six hours a day if it gets me to Scotland faster. And that’s what I do.
The final paperwork for the merger is eventually signed, and the client insists on a celebratory dinner. Tomorrow, all the rumours swirling in the media concerning this deal will be confirmed, but I’ll be on a plane to Scotland. Dinner is a raucous and boozy affair, but I stick to water. I have work to do when I land and can’t afford to waste time on hangovers.
My flight leaves in the early evening, and I head home at lunchtime to pack after wrapping up a few loose ends. I have no idea how long this will take. I’ve told Harry I don’t know when I’ll be back, and the couple of small matters I had scheduled for when we return from our summer break have been fobbed off on one of my associates. And despite the fact I’m leaving him short a partner, he’s completely on board with me chasing what I want. What I need. As long as I promise to keep him in the loop, because the drama of the last couple of months has been, according to him, better than Netflix.
I take Lulu’s painting home with me. I haven’t been able to open it, but I don’t want to leave it in the office. It might be all I ever have left of her, and I need to keep it safe. As I prop it against the wall in my bedroom, I give in to the need to see it again and rip the brown paper off. The emotion—the joy, the passion, the intensity—jumps off the canvas, galvanising my decision to go to Scotland.
I’m putting the last of my clothes into my suitcase when the doorbell rings.
Claire is shouting, “Let me in,” before I can even speak.
“Claire. What are you doing here?” It’s a measure of how distressed I am that I have forgotten to tell Claire I’m going to Scotland. I’m ashamed to say I’ve been avoiding her too.
“I called the office and Mandy told me you’re flying out to Scotland this evening. I’ve been trying to call you for weeks. What’s going on? Mum is beside herself.” I buzz her in and hug her as she bustles through the door in a flurry of overwrought energy.
“I’m sorry I didn’t let you know. I’m afraid I’m a bit of a mess.” Claire knows me well, and I’m sure she can tell at a glance I’m not myself.
“What happened? Mum isn’t saying anything, except that you’re a selfish, ungrateful, foolish man. But I saw the photo of you and The Ice Princess in the paper. And then Will told me what happened at the partners’ dinner. I can’t believe it. What did Lulu say?” Her words tumble over each other as she follows me into the bedroom.
I check my watch and realise we have time for a quick chat before I have to head to the airport. She sits on the bed as I zip up my suitcase and check my passport while I fill her in on what happened at the Partners’ Dinner and everything since. She’s unimpressed.
“Christ, our mother is a menace. And so now you’re going to Scotland to find Lulu? Are you sure she’s there? And what are you going to do about Mum?”
“No, I’m not sure of anything. As for Mum, I was hoping by now she might have got the message I want nothing to do with her. That stunt she pulled might well have ruined things with Lulu, maybe irreparably. So, I’m done.”
“About time. I take it you didn’t tell her who it was you were seeing?”
“No, actually. I kept it to myself so Mum wouldn’t have the opportunity to chase her off the way she did whenever I made a friend at school or university she didn’t like. Which happened anyway. Now, thanks to her interference, I don’t know if I’ll be able to salvage things.” The very idea makes me sick to my stomach.
“You love Lulu though, yes?”
“Yes, I’m in love with her, and I think perhaps she’s in love with me. But then she was hit in the face with a photo of me in the paper that looked like I was holding hands with another woman and an engagement announcement. No prizes for guessing who the ‘source close to the couple’ is. What on earth was she to think?”
“I can’t say I blame her for breaking it off with you. But once you explain everything, I’m sure she’ll understand.” Claire gives me a reassuring hug. That’s when she spots the painting leaning against the wall, still surrounded by the brown paper I ripped off earlier. She gets up and goes over for a better look.
