I laugh in disbelief. ‘What? You’re the one in a new relationship, not me.’
‘What about that guy?’
‘What guy? Do you mean Drew? Oh, my God, Charlie. Drew is … was a client. He’s a nice guy, but he’s just a friend, if that.’
He shrugs. ‘Well, I don’t know.’ In the half-light his eyes look dark and sad. ‘You were the one who ended our marriage.’
I stare at him in shock. ‘Not because I’d met someone else but because I felt I was dealing with everything on my own. That you’d checked out emotionally. The whole thing with Rufus being bullied –’
‘He was never being bullied.’
‘See?’ I cry. ‘You’ve always got your head in the sand and –’
He takes my hand again. ‘Rufus was never being bullied,’ he repeats, softer this time, his eyes not leaving mine. ‘I’m going to be blunt. Rufus was struggling with his sexuality and his feelings for Jackson.’
‘What? But … No. That’s not what was going on. How do you know this?’
He exhales deeply. ‘Because Rufus told me.’
It’s like a blade to the heart. ‘What? Why didn’t he tell me?’
‘He was going to tell you, but then you got it into your head he was being bullied and he went along with it rather than admit the truth. Then you went marching over to this boy’s mother, accusing her son of all sorts, and, well, he was mortified.’
Shame inches its way up my body and I throw off the blanket, suddenly hot. ‘I didn’t listen …’
‘You went all mama bear, which is what you do, and I don’t mean that as a criticism.’ He squeezes my hand. ‘But then Rufus was too embarrassed to tell you the truth.’
I groan. ‘He did try to tell me a few times. But I was so obsessed with the Morgans that I didn’t listen.’
‘Well, you were right to be obsessed with them, as it happens.’
‘But my instincts weren’t right about Rufus.’
‘You can’t be right about everything.’ His eyes twinkle. ‘And I’m no longer with Rosie. That was a stupid rebound thing. It was never serious. I … well, I …’ His cheeks colour. ‘I ended things with her because I still love you.’
I stare at him in surprise. Then I take my hand from his and touch his cheek. ‘I still love you too, Charlie. I always will. But … I’m not sure we’re right together any more. I don’t think we bring out the best in one another.’
He sighs. ‘I know. I’m just having trouble letting go, that’s all.’
‘Charlie …’ I hesitate, removing my hand from his face. ‘This was never about another man. You do believe that, don’t you?’
‘I do. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’
‘For not being what you wanted me to be, in the end.’
‘You’re a good man,’ I say, my voice catching. ‘This is just one of those things.’
He throws me a self-conscious grin. ‘I know that, deep down. I’ll probably write a song about it.’ He winks at me and I can’t help but laugh.
He pulls me into his arms, and we stay like that, clinging to each other as though we never want to let go, even though we know we have to.
63
The living room is dimly lit and my head rests on Charlie’s shoulder as we sit on the sofa waiting for the police to arrive. It’s finally started to rain and the blissful scent of petrichor drifts in through the open window. We listen in silence to the drumming on the bonnets of cars and splashing over roof tiles.
Eventually I lift my head from Charlie’s shoulder. ‘Do you think Kit’s okay? It’s been over an hour.’
