Now the idea to say what he’d been holding back ever since he’d seen her bee necklace in the garden had planted itself in his brain, his heart began to hammer. There was no going back if he did this.
She let out a long, slow breath, but he could tell she was still aching inside, felt the quiver of her ribcage at the point between breath leaving her lungs and new air being sucked in again.
That was all it took.
‘When I first met you outside the café, I thought you were someone I’d met before.’
Alice went very still. ‘You did? I don’t … I don’t remember much about that. Pieces of that morning are all a bit blurry.The first thing I remember really clearly after leaving the café is sitting in an armchair by the fire at the B&B.’
He heaved in a breath and carried on. There was no point going only halfway. ‘But then I thought I must be wrong because you didn’t recognise me, and other things didn’t add up either. Your face was similar, but your hair is very different. Even your voice isn’t the same as the woman I remembered.’
‘This was someone you knew? A friend?’
He shook his head and smelled the lemon of her shampoo as his jaw rubbed against her hair. ‘Not quite.’
‘If itwasme, would I have known you too? Would I have remembered you?’
He let out a heavy sigh. ‘I think so.’ He hoped so, even if it would have meant she’d taken one look at him, walked away and never given him the time of day.
She was quiet for a few moments, and then she said, ‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘Because …’Oh, Lord. Here goes.‘Because I’m starting to think I was right. I’m starting to think we met before.’
Up until that moment, it was as if they’d been curled up in a little cocoon of darkness and warmth, but Alice shattered it completely by sitting bolt upright, tearing herself out of his arms and turning the light on. He blinked in pain as an imprint from the harsh little reading light above the bed seared itself into his retina.
‘What? How …?’ She looked as if she was about to cry again. This wasnotthe way he’d thought this would go. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?!’
Chapter Thirty-Three
Six months before the wedding.
I ARRIVED FAR too early at my parents’ house and fudged an excuse about Justin not feeling well to explain his absence. Mum and Dad bought it, I think. The only person who might have looked a little deeper was Lo, but when she got home from work, she barely glanced at me, let alone spoke to me. It cut like a knife, but at least she wouldn’t notice something was off.
I should have been enjoying one of our favourite family nights of the year, but I couldn’t wait for the evening to be over so I could hide in my bedroom and have a chance to process what had happened. Had Justin really admitted to not using the recorded track for his performance on purpose? I played our conversation back in my head in crystal-clear detail.
He had. He’d definitely said it.
The knowledge cut me to the core, but I found it hard to verbalise exactly why that was. It was … It was as if I’d had a picture of Justin in my head, one that I had believed was a faithful and true representation of who he was, the man I loved, and somehow that picture didn’t fit the person I’d had that conversation with. That scared me.
While we were at the Chinese restaurant, I could feel my phone vibrating every couple of minutes. Eventually, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I excused myself and went to the ladies’, where I fished my phone out of my bag. There were six missed calls from Justin and fourteen unread messages. The latest read:Angel, please come back home. We need to talk about this.
I agreed with him. We did need to talk. But not yet. Justin was much better at coming up with logical reasons why he was right than I was. I needed more time. Not only to work out how I felt, but how to express it clearly. There was also a second reason that was fairly obvious.It’s Dad’s birthday dinner,I messaged back.I can’t talk right now.
A voicemail arrived as I was washing my hands. He wanted me to come home. He loved me. He wanted to talk about this and work it out. It went on and on and on.
I’ve asked Mum if I can stay over tonight,I replied. We could both do with cooling off a little.
He texted back instantly, saying that he understood completely but also asking if he could come round the following morning.
I don’t know. I will talk to you soon, I promise, but could you stop messaging and calling for now?As I read the words back, I realised it might sound a bit sharp, so I added, Sorry. Not trying to be funny. I just need time to get things straight in my own head.
Okay,the reply came, and then my phone was blissfully silent. I closed my eyes, let out a breath, and went to re-join my family.
By the time we got home just after ten, I was ready for bed.I changed into a nightshirt I found in my chest of drawers. It had been one of my favourites, old and soft, with a stupid slogan on the front. It had hardly screamed ‘sophisticated new life’, so I’d left it behind when I’d moved to Justin’s. It was just what I needed at that moment, a bit of comfort in the form of a misshapen bit of cotton jersey.
I was just about to shuffle down in my single bed and tuck the duvet under my chin when I heard a soft knock at the door. ‘Lil?’
‘Yeah?’ I whispered back.
