She stared at him for a moment, his face contorted with anger. Then she felt Clara tugging her arm.
“I’m so sorry,” Libby said as they went to the front door. “I really didn’t mean to upset him.”
“He’s had a long day.”
“Can I come back and visit him tomorrow?”
Clara pulled the front door open and waited while Libby stepped outside. “I think it’s probably best you don’t. Dad’s going to have a lot to adjust to over the next few weeks, and I don’t want him upset more than is necessary.” She gave Libby a curt nod and then closed the door in her face.
CHAPTER
40
Libby went to bed early that night, exhausted after the events of the day. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw Frank’s face twisted with anger and heard Dylan’s dad’s mocking laughter. How had everything gone so horribly wrong in the space of one day? Dylan had disappeared, possibly with another woman, and Frank wanted nothing to do with her ever again. All of a sudden the London life she’d felt so optimistic about had crumbled into nothing.
Libby sat up and reached for her phone in the dark. The illuminated screen told her it was 2:06 a.m. She opened WhatsApp and instinctively clicked on Dylan’s name, but all she could see were her own unread messages, taunting her. She typed out another short one saying she hoped he was okay. Her finger hovered over the x button, and then she pressed it twice.
No sooner had she pressedsendthan her phone began to ring, making Libby jump. She scrambled to answer it, praying she was about to hear Dylan’s deep voice.
“Hello?”
“Can’t sleep either, huh?”
Libby exhaled. “What is it, Simon?”
“I saw you were online and wanted to say hi.”
“It’s two in the morning!”
“Can’t you sleep?”
Libby slumped back on her pillow. “It’s been a long day.”
“You need to find time to unwind, Libs. You’re pregnant; you should be taking things easy.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m capable of looking after myself.”
“I know you are, but I can’t help worrying about you. You and my baby.”
His voice was gentle in her ear, and out of nowhere Libby felt a sob building in her throat. She tried to stifle it, but it emerged as a strangled gasp.
“Libby?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling the now-familiar warmth of tears.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“No.” Libby pressed her hand against her eyes to stop the tears. “I had a fight with a friend.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“He was really angry at me and... I messed things up.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.”
“I did. This morning I should have gone to help him but I was too absorbed with my own problems. And then he burned himself.”
“Is this the old guy I met at your birthday?” Simon said. “If so, you can’t blame yourself. He’s not your responsibility.”
