Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
“What is it?” Laurence asks, letting go of my hand to cup my neck instead.
“No one’s ever said that to me before,” I tell him.
I’m proud of you. It’s the first time in thirty-seven years those words have been directed at me. I’d stopped hoping to hear them a long time ago, assumed I simply wasn’t capable of earning them. To hear them now, from someone I love so much, from someone whose opinion truly matters…the comfort is overwhelming. Crushing, almost. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Och, William…” Laurence’s hand slides under my chin, lifting my face. His eyes look right into mine, so blue, so genuine, pinching gently as he smiles. “You don’t have to say anything. You only need to believe me.”
A knock on the door interrupts this wonderful moment. As it opens, Laurence swipes the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. Becca appears a second later, popping her head around the door, never quite entering the room.
“I, uh, just wanted to check everything was okay,” she says.
Laurence shuffles to the side, as if instinct tells him I might need my future ex-wife. Only I don’t. Not anymore. Not like I used to. I have all the support I need right here.
“I’m fine. Thanks, Becs,” I tell her with a reassuring smile, grateful that she cares enough to be here. “I’ll be back out in a minute.”
Becca nods, her gaze lingering a little too long on Laurence’s hand which is resting on my thigh. She snaps out of it soon enough, forces a small smile, but I can’t help wondering what thoughts filled her head in those seconds, how much pain she’s just had to lock away. “Good. Ben’s worried about you, and Lucy’s just arrived.”
My smile fades. My kids shouldn’t have to worry about me. Ever. I’ll never forgive my father. “Tell them I’m—” I cut myself off, pat Laurence’s hand on my knee, and stand up. “Never mind, I’ll tell them myself,” I say as Laurence stands up with me. “Let’s get back out there.”
“You sure?”
I look at Laurence. I look at Becca. Everyone I love is here. What’s to be afraid of? “I’m sure.”
I wake before Laurence the next morning, wondering how he can sleep so soundly on the lumpy queen-size mattress in my flat. It’s a tight squeeze for the both of us. My knee hangs off the side while Laurence’s feet drop off the end. I’m embarrassed to have him here, but he insisted. He really does want the full William Walker Experience, apparently.
“Mmmorning,” he whispers sleepily into my chest before his eyes are open. “I’m still proud of you.”
After the showdown with my dad, today feels like a new start. A do over. Fresh and promising, like the first of January when it truly feels like you’ll accomplish every item on your resolutions list. It didn’t happen immediately. I was still reeling after re-entering the party, but I had to enter parent-mode, sit on my feelings until Ben had seen his car, blown out the candles on his cake, danced with his friends and the adults who were drunk enough to join them.
Only after arriving back at the flat did the enormity of what had happened sink in and, on top of that, the discovery that my mother is dead. That’s if I believe it. Though, I think I do. Can’t explain why. A part of my life simply feels…closed, now. Almost like I can’t sense her out there anymore.
“We can find out for sure, you know,” Laurence suggested once we’d collapsed for the night. It was like he could see behind my eyes, see that I couldn’t stop picturing the woman who couldn’t love me. Since the moment my dad used her death as a weapon to hurt me, my mum’s face has haunted me. For some reason, I can only see the good times. The times where she wasn’t drunk. The odd time where she’d smile, where she’d ruffle my hair with her hand, and even though she doesn’t deserve it…I miss her. “Andy can find out practically anything with a couple of phone calls…and some money as a last resort. Everyone responds to money.”
I declined. Maybe I’ll look into it more one day. Maybe, hopefully, I’ll realise I don’t care enough. I’ll probably discuss it at length with Laurence eventually. Becca too, I imagine.
But not now. Not soon. My time belongs to those I love now, to those who love me.
God. It feels surreal that Laurence and I are free to love each other whenever and wherever we want.
Our life begins today.
Smiling, I comb his hair with my fingers. “Lucy’s gutted she missed the ‘tea’,” I say, mimicking my daughter’s choice of words.
“She’s funny, your daughter. I like her.”
“She’s about to get expensive, too. Seeing Ben with a car has brought out the green-eyed monster. Becca says she’s going to start lessons, which means another car in our future. Can’t do it for one and not the other.”