“I admit, I’m only seeing this from the outside, but you’ve done everything for them, Rachel. Meghan only works three nights a week, but you’ve let her. You’ve never demanded she has a full-time job, or that Lily helps more with the housework. You’ve been doing it all, all the time, and I don’t think you need to.”
She felt a blush sweep over her body, hot and prickly. How had he seen all that? He’d barely stepped inside her house once. He didn’t know her or her family at all. “I want Lily to study, not do dishes,” she said stiffly. “She has so much opportunity. She could go to Durham—”
“So could you. Or if not Durham, then somewhere else. University of Lancaster has loads of decent courses. It doesn’t have to be settling, and frankly, settling for something is better than having nothing at all.”
“Why do you care so much?” she blurted. “Am I your pity project or something?”
He held his hands up. “No pity. If anything, I admire you, chipped shoulder and all. But I’ve stood by and watched Claire waste her life.”
“Because she’s working in a shop?” Rachel interjected sharply.
“No, because she’s been unhappy, letting other people make her choices for her. Don’t do the same thing.”
Shock made her jaw drop before she snapped it shut. “I can’t believe you’re comparing me to Claire.”
“You have some surprising similarities.”
Another rush of pedestrian commuters was starting down the bridge, and Andrew took hold of her elbow to move her to the side. “Come on. We have time to get a drink before your train.”
Rachel let him lead her off the bridge and to a quiet wine bar near Piccadilly Station. They sat in a deep booth with huge glasses of wine and, thankfully, Andrew didn’t continue with his pep talk. She’d had enough. She felt both raw and invigorated, and she was painfully aware that in less than an hour she’d be back on the train; in three hours she’d be in Hartley-by-the-Sea, cleaning up the kitchen, nagging Lily, and probably puttingNathan to bed. She leaned her head back against the plush booth and sighed.
“Tired?”
“More than you could possibly know.”
Andrew placed his hand over hers, a deliberate act, his palm warm and dry. “Think about what I said.”
Rachel glanced down at their hands, his covering hers. She wanted to ask him what was going on between them, if anything. Had this been a date? Would they see each other again? But she couldn’t face the non-answers she suspected he’d give, and she didn’t know what her own answers would be. She didn’t know what she wanted anymore, or what she was capable of.
An hour later Andrew walked her to the train and kissed her cheek before she got on board, a gentlemanly peck that still managed to make her skin buzz.
She sank into a seat, leaned her head against the window, and thankfully, after only a few minutes, fell asleep.
The house was quiet when she let herself in three hours later. Rachel tiptoed upstairs, not wanting to wake Nathan, and peeked in Lily’s room. She was curled up on her bed, drawing.
“Adventures of a Mad Scientist?” Rachel guessed as Lily covered the paper with her hand.
“Yes . . .”
Rachel nodded. Words rose to the tip of her tongue about studying and having only two weeks until her first exam, but she felt too tired to say any of it. “Where’s Meghan?” she asked instead.
“Asleep.”
“Really? It’s only nine.”
“She’d had a few late nights.”
“True.” Rachel leaned against the door. She’d dozed most of the way back to Hartley-by-the-Sea, but she still felt tired. Tomorrow she was meeting with Mr. Greaves to discuss hermother’s “next phase of rehabilitation,” whatever that would be. She also had to clean three houses.
“You okay, Rach?” Lily asked, and she managed a smile.
“Yeah, just tired.”
“Did you have a nice day out with Andrew?”
Rachel thought of the museum, the bridge. “Mostly.”
“He seems nice, to me.”
