‘Anyway,’ he said. ‘All I know is Captain Coping. Breaking down isn’t an option.’
‘Why? Why can’t you? I don’t mean have a nervous breakdown, but grieve. Cry. Talk about it.’
‘Because people need me. My mum needs me to be strong. The community needs that, too. My dad went through hell, and he didn’t fall to pieces. Why should I get to indulge?’
Cherry could see now that Sean’s coping approach was in part a tribute to the father he loved so dearly and part fulfilling expectations – letting everyone else grieve while he battled on stoically.
‘Because it’s healthy,’ she said. ‘You can be sad remembering someone you loved. Fall on the floor and sob one minute and then be happy at the good memories the next. Any emotion is acceptable. And he wasyourdad, so it’s your right to grieve him.’ This carry-on-all-stoical attitude reminded her of Dale after the first miscarriages – holding things in, pretending it was fine, being there for her but not himself. She should have made him go to counselling.
‘Aye, okay. Thanks, Cherry,’ Sean mumbled gruffly.
‘No bother, Seany. What’s your favourite memory of your dad?’ Cherry might struggle with her own demons, but she had learned a lot about grief. And meant it when she said to enjoy the good memories.
‘How do you pick one?’ Sean moved to the window, staring out into the black, his reflection clear in the polished pane. ‘Probably surfing together or the chats over a whisky when I was older. I loved those. I remember when I told him I wasn’t going to uni like everyone else, and he poured me a dram and told me I could do an apprenticeship at the cooperage. He never pushed us to work for the business, though that was his ideal.’
‘I bet he was so proud of you.’
‘Aye, maybe. Maybe.’ Sean shut down the conversation in those three words, his eyes glistening. ‘Right, listen, Paradise, I get the feeling you might want to sleep alone tonight.’ He scrutinised in an astute, perceptive way that made it very difficult to make a wise decision.
She should sleep alone. She wanted to sleep with Sean, but if she did that, it would muddy the waters entirely, mess her up emotionally, stymie the annulment and she’d never be able to walk away like she needed to for his sake. It would be a selfish, selfish choice.
‘Fuck.’
‘That’s the question, isn’t it?’ Sean said.
‘Did I say that out loud?’
‘Aye, but I’m messing with you. The spare room is already made up. We’ve somehow gone this long without jumping each other’s bones, so why don’t you get some sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning. The last thing I want is for you to regret any of this.’
‘Do you regret it?’ The question was out without a thought.
‘Nope.’ Sean hadn’t missed a beat before answering. ‘I mean, it was a bit mental, I guess.’ His mouth lifted upwards into a tension-melting smile.
Cherry was glad he’d said it. ‘Yes, I’ve never done anything like that before, you might be glad to know.’
‘Aye, so let’s take it easy on ourselves, okay? You, especially. Come on, I’ll take your bags upstairs, show you to your room.’
In the spare room, standing next to Sean, Cherry had to fight the temptation to press herself to his wide chest and kiss him. This man – this gorgeous, broad-shouldered Scotsman – was, for now, her legal husband. How the hellhad that happened? She could have him on tap if she wanted. They could be naked between those sheets in mere moments if she gave a sign – said ‘let’s fuck all night and not think about the future’. Everything she’d seen under that kilt, and more, could be hot and urgent against her own skin. Inside her.
What would the word or words be?
Strip for me!
Fuck me, Sean!
Fuck your wife, please! Now!
‘You alright?’
‘What? Oh, yeah, I will be once I get into bed. So tired.’ Cherry exaggerated yawning and stretching, so much so that it must seem completely fake, and Sean eyed her like she was a little deranged.
‘Aye, you’ll be knackered.’ He glanced at the bed.
Was he thinking what she was? God, they were idiots. No, she was an idiot who’d held back a life-altering truth from him. He was a level-headed, honest gentleman who didn’t need any more heartache ripping his life apart. How could she watch him go through more pain than he was? As a wife, she should raise him up, make him the best version of himself. But her past was a wasteland of relationships she had ruined – some destroyed by her itinerant lifestyle, the last one by incessant grief. She was the common denominator in the decimation.
‘Bathroom is down the hall,’ Sean added. ‘It’s all yours since my room has an ensuite. If you get lonely, you know where I am. Well, you don’t, but I’m in the room next door.’ He switched the bedside lamp on and the main light off, giving the room a softer vibe. ‘Night, Cherry. Hope you sleep well.’
‘Night, Sean. You, too.’ Jeez, she was already lonelywithout him, and he hadn’t even left the room. How was that possible? Married for forty-eight hours, not slept with her husband yet, and missing him whilst standing in front of him.
