Chapter 21
‘You didn’t have to say anything,’ I said to Thomas when we’d dumped our bags in the guest room. ‘Beth was only being mouthy because she was drunk.’
He sat on the double bed, nibbling on the profiterole I’d given him. ‘Yes, I did. She was pissing me off. I can’t believe your sister looks so much like you, but she’s so awful. How come you got all the nice genes?’
I shrugged. ‘Maybe she has Dad’s personality. He left when we were little, so we don’t know much about him. Mum always told us he’d run away to join the circus. But when we were older, she admitted he’d skipped off to Birmingham with another woman.’
‘Lordy, families,’ Thomas said with a sigh.
‘Oh well, at least we got through dinner. And ... and I did like what you said—about not forgiving her, but forgiving myself for not deserving better.’
I walked over to where he was sitting. ‘I’ve realised that letting go of Jeremy is part of that because he’s never going to be able to give me the kind of love that I want—a love that’s reciprocated. And due to that, I’ve started looking for another job.’
Thomas let out a breath. ‘Bravo, Anna.’
‘But letting go of Jeremy is hard for me,’ I said, trying not to let my voice wobble. ‘I’ve been loving him for so long that not having him to love feels like losing my right arm. Does that make sense?’
Thomas bobbed his head. ‘Sure. But you have a lot of love to give, and he doesn’t deserve you.’
I laughed a little. ‘No one seems to deserve me in your eyes.’
Thomas drew me down onto his lap, and I put my arms around him. ‘Well, maybe ... me?’ he said tentatively.
‘I thought you weren’t able to help me with the love part, only the sex part.’
He kissed my forehead. ‘Hmm, I think I might have to extend my services where you’re concerned. You can officially love me all you want.’
‘Oh boy,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘You have no idea what you’re in for. Get ready for crazy Anna love.’
Thomas grinned and caressed my cheek with his thumb. ‘Lay it on me, baby. I can handle the crazy.’
***
I wrapped the small dark-green novel with the gilt-tooled floral border carefully in acid-free tissue paper and placed it spine down in the box along with the other books. Then I added foam cushioning, packing it in tightly so they wouldn’t move around during transit. Lastly, I secured the flaps with several layers of packing tape.
Picking up the box, I manoeuvred around Becca’s empty chair, pushing it closer to the desk, which had been cleared of her personal effects. She’d left last week, so I’d had the office to myself—a reprieve before Irish Lucy started, as I knew she must.
Holding the box close to my chest, I navigated the hallway, glad that Jeremy’s office wasn’t too far away as the damn thing was heavy. Resting the box on my knee for a few seconds, I rapped on his door.
‘Come in, Anna,’ intoned Jeremy’s deep voice from within. But this time, I didn’t feel the usual shiver down my spine. I felt, well, nothing really.
‘Here are the books,’ I said without waiting for him to notice me. ‘They’re all packed up and ready to go.’ I set them down by the door in the same place I’d picked them up all those weeks ago, before I’d even met Thomas. Just thinking about him made me smile.
‘You know you can still change your mind,’ said Jeremy. ‘I haven’t started interviewing yet.’
I straightened up and looked at him. For once, he wasn’t tapping or reading on his laptop; he was frowning, looking genuinely worried that he was losing his number one researcher, which he was.
‘How am I going to finish my book now? I need your help.’
‘No you don’t,’ I said. ‘I’ve made meticulous notes. Everything is there in the Google Drive folder named POX. Plus you’ve got Lucy now. She’s worked on several publications before, and she knows her stuff. Just promote her as soon as she starts and hire one of the other candidates as her assistant if she needs one.’
Jeremy tapped his finger on the desk, and I could see his mind whirring—if he promoted Lucy to senior researcher, it meant cosy working lunches in his office.
‘You know, that might work out well,’ he said, his forehead smoothing.
I smiled benignly. ‘I thought it might.’
‘I hope you’re not leaving because of what happened ... with us,’ he said suddenly. ‘I never should’ve invited you out for dinner. Or back to my house. Or let you massage my feet. God.’ He cringed.
‘Well, you didn’t force me. I did offer to massage them,’ I teased. ‘No, it’s for the best. It’s time I moved on. Besides, I’m looking forward to the challenges of my new job.’
And it’s more money, and I’ll be spending most of my time in the Radcliffe Camera ...
I turned to grasp the door handle to leave, and Jeremy said, ‘I’m sorry, Anna.’
I stiffened momentarily and blinked. ‘For what?’
‘For not being the relationship type. I am fond of you,’ he said gently.
A jolt of awareness went through me at his words—it appeared Jeremy had known that I was in love with him all along. His ego had maybe even enjoyed the attention. In the end, I hadn’t been able to keep it a secret. After all, I did tend to wear my heart on my sleeve, as Thomas said. Before, I probably would’ve turned beetroot red and wished the floor would swallow me whole, but things were different now. I wondered if I should tell him that ‘fond’ really wasn’t good enough for me. But what was the point? So I ignored it and reiterated, ‘You’ll be fine with Lucy. She’s good at her job.’
And whatever happens with you and her, I’m glad I won’t be there to witness it.
‘Just, for God’s sake, promise me you’ll call that cleaning company. I sent you their details.’
Jeremy laughed and gave me a small salute. ‘Promise!’
I took one last look at his office and at him: wood, paper, glass, warmth, and beauty.