‘This isn’t the same.’
His eyebrows lift.
‘It’s not.’
He blinks.
I let out a frustrated sigh, because he’s right. When it comes to fight or flight, I’m Usain Bolt not Tyson Fury. ‘Okay, maybe a bit. But this isn’t some little tiff with Mum. It’s ongoing … draining.’
‘But she’s family.’ The playfulness leaches from his expression. ‘You might not like what I’m about to say, but I’m going to say it anyway. I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t.’
I shift to turn square on to him, which has the added benefit of creating more space between us. I want to fold my arms, but I know it’ll be a dead giveaway, so I plant my palms on my thighs and mentally glue them there. ‘Go on.’
‘You say you wish you had a family like mine, one you could be closer with, but the truth is, even if your parents created the situation you’re all in now by their choices when you were younger, you join them in keeping the gulf in place.’
I look down at my hands. ‘I know. Because … ’ How much do I tell him? How can I say this without opening the floodgates and letting my whole soul pour out in a big mushy mess, never to be put back together again? ‘Because it doesn’t feel safe to let them closer.’
Luke leans forward and brushes my cheek with his fingers. When I meet his gaze, my eyes are stinging. ‘I know your mum is – how shall we put it? – difficult to love, but your dad isn’t who he was twenty years ago. I think you could be closer with him, and the rest of his new family, if you wanted to be.’
He’s speaking the truth, but there’s only one problem: I don’t know how. ‘But if I get closer with Dad, Mum will freak out and she’ll be even worse,’ I mumble.
‘Yeah … I suppose you’re right. I hadn’t thought of that.’
That’s because he didn’t have to grow up second-guessingeverything he did, every word he said, in case he accidentally lit the touch paper that would make her explode.
Luke pulls me into a hug. We stay like that for a couple of minutes and then he pulls back enough to look at my face. ‘You’re right. I don’t get it. I try to, but I don’t fully. Not yet.’ Warmth fills me at his words, and then he carries on, ‘If you want to go no-contact with your mum, if you feel that’s what you need to do, I’ll support you. But I want you to be sure it’sreallywhat you want; you’re not just reacting to the anger and emotion after the fight you had this evening. Take some time to think about it.’
‘Okay.’
His eyes are such a lovely warm brown, with chestnut flecks. Despite the fact that, once again, he’s trying to fix something I’m not sure can be fixed, and it’s driving me crazy, I can see the love pouring out of them towards me, and I feel a stabbing sensation in my chest. He doesn’t understand, but he’s trusting me. Maybe it’s time I did the same to him. I’ll have to if I’m going to make this marriage work. I don’thaveto push back against every suggestion, do I?
‘You’re right. I know I run when I get scared, and maybe this is what I’m doing right now. I’ll do it. I’ll give her another chance, but if she calls and yells at me like that in the future, I’m going to put the phone down on her again.’
Luke’s mouth curves into a smile. ‘I think you should. Just because you’re not cutting her off, it doesn’t mean you have to put up with everything she does.’
Okay, then. That’s settled. I feel we’ve reached an uneasy kind of compromise, but it’s something I can work with. Running away from difficult situations didn’t serve me well in the yearsfollowing this one, did it? If I hadn’t run out of our tenth anniversary party, maybe Luke and I would have had a more productive conversation and then he wouldn’t have done the same to me.
And then I realize something: maybe, just maybe, if I don’t cut my mother off completely, I can avoid that whole nightmare entirely. If she’s still part of our lives, Luke can’t invite her to the party behind my back, can he? And then I won’t have anything to walk away from. It might be the key to solving everything.
And if it is, maybe I’ll wake up in my own bed again tomorrow, nine years older and in my right time, and Luke will be next to me. The thought is so delicious, it makes my head swim.
I reach for the foil trays laid out on the carpet. ‘Do you want that last spare rib? Because if you don’t, it’s got my name written all over it.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LUKE
Six Months Before the Anniversary Party
He smiles at the picture message that has just arrived. It’s of a beautiful dark-teal kitchen. It must be the house in Dulwich Village that Elena has been working on.
A text message arrives shortly after.It’s finally finished! What do you think?
And then another picture arrives, this time some wrought-iron gates the owners of a house he’d been working on with his dad had been insistent on getting rid of, despite being over a hundred years old, and absolutely beautiful craftsmanship. Since he couldn’t convince the owners to keep them, they’d been quite happy to sell them on and put the cash towards the brand-new, electronic gates with an intercom system they’d wanted instead.
Recognize these?
Sure do!,he types back.
