Page 111

‘I’m asking. Why did you?’

He paused, and looked thoughtfully up to the left.

‘It was a mistake.’

‘No shit,’ she said. ‘I could say the same.’

‘It was definitely a mistake for you, but it was a different kind of mistake for me. For me it was more of a miscalculation.’

She fought back the pain; it took all her strength to keep her composure.

‘A miscalculation? Spit it out, Ryan. Why did you want to marry me?’

‘That’s exactly the point,’ he said.

Although she was in no position to do anything about it, Mary felt a sense of growing frustration at his cryptic answers.

‘For fuck’s sake, Ryan. You won already. Nobody’s here to see you be enigmatic and wonder how it is you got to be so cool. There’s only me. So cut out the bullshit and answer my question.’ She caught his eye. ‘And for the record, you’ll never be cool. Before you tell me why you didn’t want to marry me, that’s why I didn’t want to marry you. Yeah, I had kids, yeah, I didn’t need the commitment – but really? I just thought you were a bit fucking boring.’

It wasn’t entirely true; not entirely false, either, but she was enjoying the flush that was spreading up his cheeks.

‘So?’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘What is the real reason you wanted to marry me?’

He glared at her.

‘I didn’t want to marry you,’ he said.

Mary laughed. ‘You could have fooled me, Ryan. It was all you. We went on a few dates, I was happy to let it slide, but you – well, you were there. You made it happen. I was happy to stay single, maybe have a more casual relationship, but you wanted more commitment. And when you asked me to marry you, I said no, remember? But you made your case – and boy, did you make it – and I agreed in the end. And now you say you didn’t want to marry me?’

‘That’s right. I didn’t want to marry you.’

There was a heavy emphasis on the ‘you’.

‘Really?’ Mary said. She felt wrong-footed, suddenly uncertain. ‘Then who did you want to marry?’

She meant it as a joke, as a flippant aside, but he nodded, then stared at her, implacable.

‘Her.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I wanted to marry her.’

‘Who,’ Mary said, slowly. ‘Is her?’

‘The woman I wanted to marry.’

‘This is all becoming rather circular, Ryan,’ Mary said. ‘Who are you talking about?’

He smiled. ‘Allison.’

‘Allison?’

‘Yes. Allison Clark.’

‘You mean Allison Langton? Carl’s wife?’

He shook his head.