She looks so utterly desolate that if I wasn’t a hairsbreadth away from clawing her face off with my blunt nails, I might feel sorry for her.
‘I was being a good friend,’ Luke says helplessly. ‘That’s all.’ He turns to me again. ‘That’s all, I promise!’
Deep in my gut, I know this is the truth. I know Luke’s need to make everything right for everyone can lead him into overcommitting himself, to getting far too sucked into other people’s drama that boundaries get blurred – something I realize we are going to need to talk about if we manage to hold on to each other after this night. I also know Hannah well enough to know how, after Connor, even a small drop of kindness from a decent man must have been intoxicating.
I understand it, but it doesn’t mean I forgive it. Luke is at fault, maybe, for not seeing how vulnerable she was and how shemight read more into things, but Hannah should have put the brakes on as soon as she knew she was starting to have feelings for him.
You’re so lucky to have such a wonderful man beside you … I wish I could find me one of those.
Hannah’s words from earlier that evening come back to me as a light bulb switches on inside my head. She hasn’t been very good at hiding how she feels, even from me, and yet I was blind to all the red flags. Even when she got all territorial and was practically spitting with jealously over Elena.
Because I trusted her. As a best friend should. But I realize this is just a symptom of a wider problem: I’ve put my faith in all the wrong places.
I invested in my mother when she really wasn’t ready for it and then couldn’t bring myself to give her a chance when she was. The one person I should’ve trusted completely was Luke, but I let him down because I had no belief in myself. However, whatever errors I made trusting or not trusting, this current mess is all on Hannah.
‘I think it’s time you left,’ I tell her. ‘Luke and I have a lot to discuss.’
Hannah looks at Luke, who nods. When he reaches for my hand, she lets out a strangled sob, turns and runs down the path in the direction of the hotel.
Luke and I stare after her until she turns a corner and disappears from view, then turn back to look at each other, neither of us really sure what to say now our moment has arrived. It feels too big, as if so much is hanging on so few words.
Eventually, Luke clears his throat. ‘Listen, Jess … I hope you realize there wasn’t anything going on from my end back there.I honestly wouldn’t have gone round there if I’d had any idea she would—’
‘No. It’s okay. I saw you back off, even heard you say “no” to her. I’m not angry with you.’
He looks relieved but surprised, and rightly so. Probably. Old Jess might have got insecure and had a moment.
‘But we do need to talk.’ I’m hoping recent events might have shocked him out of his previous mood, that maybe I might be able to get through to him.
He nods. ‘But not here.’
‘No.’
We both look back at the white mansion that is just about visible through the smattering of trees near the lake’s edge.
‘I don’t really want to bump into anyone,’ I say, rubbing my arms, which have erupted into a million goosebumps. ‘But my things are back inside.’
Luke catches my gesture and instantly peels his jacket off and puts it round my shoulders. I shoot him a grateful look. ‘Thank you.’
He shrugs. I know he would have done the same thing for anyone, but I’m choosing to take it as a good sign. ‘I’ll sneak in and grab our stuff. What do you need and where is it?’
‘My bag is at the table in the function room. That’s it, really. Apart from my shoes – they’re somewhere in the rose garden.’
‘Yourshoes?’ Luke exclaims suddenly looking downwards, his eyes opening wide. ‘Jess! Your feet must be freezing!’
‘A little … ’ I’m not looking forward to walking back across the damp, lumpy grass to retrieve them. On the journey out here, I was so powered by desperation, I hardly noticed it.
He looks at me and then down at my feet again, and before Ican even react, one arm comes around my back, the other under my knees, and he scoops me up. I instinctively cling on to him, looping my arms around his neck, and pressing my cheek into the warmth of his chest. ‘Luke! You can’t carry me all that way! I’m too heavy.’
He shifts me in his arms to get a better grip, sets his face in the direction of the main building, and starts walking. ‘Watch me.’
Almost half an hour later, our Uber pulls up a short distance down the street from our house. We thank the driver and get out, then watch him drive away. Neither of us make a move towards our front door. I don’t know what Luke’s thinking but, to me, it seems as if all the old arguments and resentments are swirling around in the air waiting for us there. ‘Do you think we can go somewhere else?’ I ask. ‘Neutral territory?’
He nods. ‘Good idea.’
‘But where?’ It’s after one and it’s not like we’re in the city centre, where we might find somewhere open until the wee hours. This is Beckenham, the heart of leafy, sleepy suburbia.
Luke tips his head to one side and looks at me. ‘I think I might know a place.’
