‘First of all, I want you to know that I wasn’t faking feeling unwell. Sometimes, when my anxiety peaks, I can’t even see straight. Or I feel sick. But anyway, I wastalking to my therapist about it.’ This is a good sign too: he is working on himself, becoming more self-aware. ‘And I realised that I was feeling defensive of you. That I put so much of my life on hold for other people for so long, and I was angry on your behalf, that you were going to miss out on things because of looking after Ivy.’
Jess takes Alex’s hand and traces the outlines of his fingers with her own. A gesture of affection, yes, but also a way to keep herself grounded, keep herself calm, keep herself from wanting to run away. ‘I get that. It’s not the same thing, though. You and me – we’re different people.’
‘Of course. And the reason it hurts so much is because it triggers stuff from my childhood, things about not having had the attention I needed. You didn’t have that. Well, not in quite the same way.’
She knows, now, though, that she needs to process her own childhood. Stop assuming she’s fine, when she’s only fine as long as she’s running – to fun, to books, to anything that distracts her from pain. ‘I always say I don’t miss my dad because I don’t remember him, but I think growing up without him definitely did have an impact on me. That, and a mum who kept trying to escape her grief by going on adventures.’ Jess shuffles onto her side to face Alex, but also to move, to do something with the nervous energy coursing through her. ‘It’s not that I was unloved or anything. My time with my grandparents was always special. But I probably needed my mum more than I realised.’
‘I’m really glad to hear you say that,’ Alex says. He turns on his side to mirror Jess. The affection in his facecalms her a little. ‘I’ve been worried about how much you suppress everything. When I met you, I thought you were one of those people who’ve never had anything bad happen to them, and that was why you seemed to just float through life, enjoying it and insisting on happy endings.’
‘You thought I was an airhead. Go on, admit it.’
‘No, I …’
Jess cocks an eyebrow. She has been practising doing this in the mirror for years, and this is the first time it’s worked at an opportune moment.
‘Okay, fine. But in my defence—’
‘Oh, this’ll be interesting.’
Alex rakes his hand through his hair. ‘In my defence, all I knew about you was that you were an influencer, and all I knew about influencers was that some of them are … kind of shallow?’
Jess whacks him on the arm, playfully, but also hoping to hurt him just a tiny little bit.
‘You think that’s a good defence?’
‘I see now that I was wrong.’
‘Good.’
It’s a chance to move away from the serious conversation, but Jess surprises herself by not taking it. ‘You know, my mum was so young when my dad died. She probably thought,Life can be taken away from me at any time. I want to enjoy it while I can.And I think I picked up on that.’ She swallows hard, the sadness her mum never let her see now manifesting as a lump in her own throat. She looks away from Alex, composing herself. ‘My mum was really good at cheering me upwhen I was growing up; she’d make popcorn, we’d dance around the kitchen, watch silly films together. But my grandma always asked me questions and got me to talk about how I was feeling. Maybe that’s why my weekends at her house were so important to me, too. Her love language was listening. And I really needed that.’
‘Yeah. That makes sense.’ He searches out her face until she meets his eyes.I’m safe, those eyes seem to say.It’s okay that you’re telling me this.So Jess takes a deep breath and keeps going.
‘The problem is … all of that means that I haven’t always been a great friend. I’m great at planning birthday surprises and throwing dinner parties and recommending the perfect book. But my best friend has some tough stuff going on, and I didn’t even know, because I don’t like to ask about the hard stuff. And also maybe she didn’t want to tell me, because I don’t know how to listen – I only know how to distract people. But that’s not always what they need.’
‘Sounds like we both have a lot of learning to do, still.’
‘Despite your advanced age.’
‘Hey.’ He doesn’t rise to the bait, beyond a wiggle of his eyebrows, and that alone feels like a sign of growth. ‘Anyway,’ he says, moving swiftly on. ‘We can learn together. How to be better people.’
‘Better friends,’ she says, finishing her tea and settling back down into bed, her head on Alex’s chest.
‘Better partners.’ His voice vibrates through her.
‘Better family.’
Alex kisses the top of her head. Something she has always found so calming. It’s affectionate, soothing. It doesn’t demand anything from her – whether that’s a kiss back, or anything more than a kiss. It says,You belong here. You’re home.
‘All of it.’
Family, she thinks. She is going to get to know his big, messy family. He’s drawn her diagrams – to help her remember who’s married to whom and who used to be married to whom, which nieces and nephews belong to which branch – and she has tried to commit them to memory, but she needs to put faces to names. She’s looking forward to that.
And she’s trying not to get ahead of herself, but she’s looking forward to her and Alex having a family of their own, too – whatever that looks like. Ivy will be part of it, at least some of the time; maybe most of the time as her grandparents age. But Jess and Alex have space to get to know each other before that happens, space to build a strong enough foundation to welcome a child, whether that’s Ivy or their own. Her stomach unexpectedly backflips at the thought of this – of having a baby together – when she wasn’t even sure it was something she wanted just a few months ago.
She knows she is getting ahead of herself. They haven’t even saidI love youyet. The kiss on the top of her head feels close to it, but she’d like to hear the words. Once upon a time – all of maybe two weeks ago – she would have swatted that feeling away. Pushed it down, kissed him, distracted both herself and him with activities that don’t require love, just attraction.
But she’s going to be brave.
