24.
Ada
“How …” Jonathan began then trailed off. I stared at him, stunned by the tears glistening on his face. The last time I’d seen him cry was the night I’d left his mother’s spaghetti in his apartment. Two lone tears had dotted his cheeks. Now there were many, and he shed them for me .
“How could you forgive him?” Jonathan finally got the question out as cars zoomed past us at speed.
Very gently, I traced my fingers under his eyes, wiping away the wetness as I replied, “I couldn’t. Not for a very long time. I was only fifteen when it happened. Soon after, my parents divorced, and Mam moved us to a new house. She was heartbroken and furious at how Dad had endangered me, but she also felt guilty for the part she’d played leaving me alone with him. Those first few years after the accident, she barely left my side. It was like she was trying for make up for all the times I’d been left to watch over Dad when he’d been drinking.”
“Were there court proceedings?” Jonathan asked, his hand clenching where it rested at my hip.
I nodded. “He was charged with drunk driving and reckless endangerment causing injury. He was spared jail time but was banned from driving for five years and sentenced to a year of community service. During that time, he tried making contact with us, but Mam kept him away. None of us wanted to see him. About a year later, he sent me a letter detailing how he’d gotten sober and was building his life over. That he didn’t deserve my forgiveness, but he would spend every day becoming a better man to make up for what he’d done. I never responded. I hated him back then. Because of him, I had to live with a life-changing injury. I had to deal with physical pain on a daily basis, and I just couldn’t get past the resentment.
“I didn’t speak to him for almost twenty years, Jonathan. Twenty years . I have your mam to thank for helping us reconnect. That day when we shared coffee for the first time, she asked me if I knew what my dad’s childhood had been like. I’d said no because he never spoke to us about it, and though my mam had hinted that Dad’s upbringing had been troubled, she hadn’t really elaborated more than that. Leonora told me how his father had been a tyrant, that he abused and beat my dad almost daily. She painted a picture of the horrors he’d endured, and it felt like a dagger slicing through my heart. His struggles with drink were his way of blocking out his childhood, and … well, I guess enough time had gone by for me to finally see beyond my own hurt and empathise with my father and all he’d been through. How he’d been self-medicating all through Frances’ and my childhood. He never drove again after my accident. In fact, he never drank a single drop of alcohol after the day he came back and found me.”
“He could’ve done a million good deeds in his life,” Jonathan growled. “It still wouldn’t make up for what he did to you.”
“Yes, and I believed that for a very long time. It took two decades for me to see things differently. I saw how much he’d changed, how he spent every day trying to better himself, and all the love I’d felt for him before the accident came flooding back. I could even look at flowers again, and Dad began buying me my favourites every year on my birthday. The bouquets only made me feel happy and loved rather than reminding me of the worst day of my life. I came to understand that no matter what, he was still my father, and I wanted to forgive him because I knew he had to be living with so much regret, and I didn’t want that for him anymore. I wanted to give him peace, but I also wanted my dad back. I just thought about going through the rest of my life never seeing him again, and it was so painful I couldn’t bare it. The thought of him dying and us never—”
My words fell off when I saw the strain in Jonathan’s facial muscles. His jaw tensed, and my heart sank, realising how I misspoke. The future I’d feared going to my grave without forgiving my dad, that was Jonathan’s reality. He was still living in the turmoil, would never get the chance to tell his mother how much he truly loved her, despite everything.
I cupped his cheek. “Jonathan, I didn’t—”
He shifted back away from my touch, his features tensing. He sucked back his tears and looked out the window. “We should get back on the road.”
“Why don’t I drive the rest of the way?” I didn’t want him driving with fraught emotions, especially since I was the idiot who’d caused them.
“No. I’ll drive. This is a manual. It would put a strain on your leg.”
I climbed back into the passenger seat, and Jonathan restarted the engine. We resumed our journey, but my throat felt heavy, my heart all twisted up. There’d been something cathartic in revealing the full truth of my accident, but I regretted my words. I’d been so thoughtless in my phrasing, and I knew Jonathan had to be retreating into himself, wishing he’d done things differently with Leonora. He barely said a thing for the rest of the drive.
When we arrived back at the apartment building, he climbed from the car and began retrieving our bags from the back. I went around to join him, placing my hand to his chest to get his attention. He finally looked at me, and the torture in his gaze was enough to make my stomach sink. I’d hurt him. Inadvertently, yes, but still. My words had put him in a bad place, and I hated that I couldn’t snatch them back.
“Jonathan, talk to me. Please.” I brought my other hand up to cup his jaw, feeling it flicker beneath my palm.
His gaze softened. “I’m sorry. This has nothing to do with you. I just … my head’s a bit fucked up at the minute. I need some time to myself.”
The statement stung, and he must’ve seen me wince because his hand came up to squeeze mine where it rested on his chest. “I promise, this is my own bullshit. I lo—you’re amazing, Ada. I’m in awe of you, and I’m honoured you trusted me enough to tell me about your accident. Your strength and resilience, your ability to forgive … it floors me.”
“The situation with your mother,” I began, but as soon as the words were out, he shifted back, his touch falling away as a stark pain cut across his features.
“Can we not talk about her? I just … I can’t right now.” The break in his voice had my heart clenching.
“No, of course,” I said, stepping back even though all I wanted to do was pull him into my arms and hold him until the pain went away. Jonathan resumed gathering our bags before he hit the locks on the car, and we headed inside. When we reached our apartments, I went up on my tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Call me if you want me to come over later, yeah?”
He nodded, his gaze soft once again as we parted ways.
I went inside and found my mother strewn on the couch watching TV and pecking at the pre-made charcuterie board I’d purchased for her visit.
“Ah, you’re back,” she said, smiling. “How was the wedding? Was the hotel fancy? I bet it was.”
I sat down next to her, picking up a slice of cheese and taking a bite while I filled her in on everything. I left out the part at the end where I told Jonathan about my accident because I was still berating myself for how badly I’d messed up. Why did I have to say what I said? I could’ve put it differently, phrased things in a way that didn’t make him think of how he’d never forgiven his mother, but I’d been too lost in my own story, too focused on getting it out.
Hoping Jonathan would text me to come over, I checked my phone and discovered it was still on “Do Not Disturb” mode. I’d put it on last night so Jonathan and I could enjoy our time together and had completely forgotten to turn it off that morning. As a result, I’d missed a barrage of calls, texts and voicemails, all of them from Rina.
As I read through the messages and listened to the voicemails, my heart sank as the picture became clear. Head Office had tried to get in touch with me yesterday to inform me that Pinebrook was being sold, and when they couldn’t get through, they called Rina instead. She’d been in her office talking to them with the door open when one of the carers, Magdalena, overheard. She then went into panic mode and shared the news with Hannah. Before long, it had spread to the rest of the staff as well as the residents. Now everyone was in a tizzy over what was going to become of Pinebrook.
Heaving the heaviest sigh imaginable, I turned to Mam. “There’s a situation at work that I have to go deal with, but I’ll bring back something nice for dinner. What are you in the mood for?”
“Hmm, how about Thai?”
“All right. I’ll call you when I’m on my way back.”
The next day and a half were a nightmare. When I arrived at Pinebrook, not only were the staff and residents’ emotions running high, but a bunch of relatives had also turned up wanting to know what was going to happen to their elderly family members. I spent hours meeting with everyone, trying to allay fears while tamping down my own. The worst had happened. Pinebrook was being sold, and depending on who bought it, all our lives might be thrown into disarray.
By Sunday evening, I’d finally managed to subdue the situation (for now), and it was only then I realised I hadn’t heard a peep from Jonathan. Fearing he’d reverted to his coping mechanism of getting blind drunk, I went to knock on his apartment door. There was no answer until footsteps approached, but instead of Jonathan, Therese appeared.
“Ada, hello,” she said, holding a laptop, a stack of folders as well as a small suitcase I recognised because it was the same one Jonathan had used on our trip to Cork.
“Therese, hi, is Jonathan about?”
“No, he’s staying at his mother’s house for a few days. I’ve just been tasked with gathering some of his things.”
“Ah, I see,” I said, heart plummeting. Why was he staying at Leonora’s? Was it because he was upset and trying to avoid me? “Well, I’ll let you get going, then.”
“Was there a message you’d like me to relay?” she asked.
“No, that’s okay. I’ll call him.”
“All right, then. Goodbye, dear.”
She moved to step out of the apartment, locking the door before heading down the hallway with Jonathan’s things.
I went next door to my own apartment, frowning the entire time, a bad feeling taking hold. Mam was nowhere to be found, but there was a note on the kitchen counter informing me she’d gone out to see Frances. There were still three days left on her visit, but I found myself wishing she was going home already. I didn’t feel much like hosting her until New Year’s, what with everything going on at work and the silence between Jonathan and me.
I made myself something to eat, just a small, reheated bowl of noodles left over from the night before, then sat down at the counter and stared at the blank screen of my phone. I hesitated over whether to call him, but in the end, I went with the easier option and sent a text.
Ada: Hi. I called over to your place, but Therese was there and told me you’re staying at Leonora’s for a couple days. Everything okay?
I resumed eating and trying not to stare at my phone waiting for a response. I finished the noodles and was just done cleaning my dish when at long last it vibrated.
Jonathan: Yes, just needed to get out of the city for a while.
I wasn’t sure how to respond. I was honestly hurt that he hadn’t asked me to come over, especially since we’d barely spent a night without each other the last few weeks. His lack of communication upset me, too, since he’d just left without telling me. I thought maybe it was best to ask outright if he wanted to see me so I wouldn’t end up torturing myself wondering.
Ada: Want some company?
Jonathan: Not tonight.
Well, that was that, then. His short message made me feel like my heart was breaking. I was angry at myself for what I’d said about my dad, but I was also angry at him. He didn’t get a free pass to push me away, not when he knew how much I’d agonised over starting a relationship with him in the first place.
Ada: Tomorrow then?
Jonathan: I have some last-minute work things to deal with tomorrow. I’ll let you know when I’m free.
So, he was icing me out. A part of me was resigned to it, had believed all along that it would happen sooner or later, that a woman like me couldn’t hold the attention of a man like Jonathan forever. A separate part refused to accept such treatment. That part wanted to drive right over to Leonora’s and force Jonathan to tell me it was over to my face. He was choosing to wallow in grief rather than appreciate the luck we had in finding each other. I’d fallen for him, and I wasn’t imagining the way he looked at me, nor how often he stared when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.
He had feelings for me, perhaps not yet love, but real feelings. Feelings he was trying to deny by putting this distance between us. Perhaps he was like Dad, believing he didn’t deserve anything good in his life because he’d pushed his mother away. Was that why he’d withdrawn? He felt too much guilt over his estrangement from Leonora that he refused to accept how amazing it was when we were together?
The next few days passed, and though I did receive nightly check-in texts from Jonathan, he never asked me to come see him, nor did he say he was coming to see me. I missed him so much it was a physical ache, but I didn’t know how to proceed. If he were in a bad place and I forced my company on him, I feared I’d jeopardize his healing process.
The new year came and went. It made me infinitely sad that Jonathan wasn’t there to kiss me at midnight and wish me a Happy New Year. Mam flew home to Spain, and I got back to work at Pinebrook. The atmosphere was one of doom and gloom. Everyone was worried about losing their jobs, the residents fearing losing their homes. I resigned myself to a long and difficult path ahead, whatever the transition turned out to be, but then on Friday morning, I received an unexpected call from Jeanette at Fabers.
“I shouldn’t even be calling, and this is strictly to be kept between us,” she’d said, all hush hush. “An angel investor has expressed an interest in purchasing Pinebrook, and it looks like they plan on keeping the place running as it is with a focus on breaking even instead of turning a profit.”
“You’re serious?” I’d replied, my heart lifting. This news was surely too good to be true.
“Like I said, this is not to be shared yet. I just thought you must be worrying yourself sick over there, and I wanted you to know things might not be as bad as they seem.”
When I got off the phone, I sat at my desk for several minutes, unable to wipe the smile off my face. It was too early to celebrate, and I certainly couldn’t tell anyone the news, especially since the angel investor might decide to pull out at any point. But still, it was a bit of brightness amidst all the dark clouds that had been hovering of late.
After spending an entire week worrying about Jonathan and fearing he no longer felt the same about me, I finally resolved to go and see him. If he didn’t want this anymore, then that was his decision, but I refused to live with the uncertainty another day. He needed to tell me outright that it was over.
His car was parked outside, the same one he’d driven us to the wedding in. It looked positively strange parked outside such a quaint old home. Those two days in Cork felt like eons ago. A wall had been erected between us, one Jonathan had put in place.
Walking up to the door, I knocked twice, but no one answered. My stomach plummeted, imagining he was inside ignoring me until I left. Knocking again, I waited and was about to call his phone when footsteps sounded behind me.
“Ada?”
Jonathan stood on the path behind me. He held a carrier bag with groceries and wore a hoodie and jeans. Yes, a hoodie and jeans . I blinked, fearing I’d hallucinated. I’d never seen him dressed so casually, but it bizarrely suited him. Then again, when you were as handsome as Jonathan, most things tended to look good on you. His hair wasn’t styled, and without his usual product, it was even blonder than normal. I fought the urge to walk up and run my hands through it. My heart pounded just being in his presence. I loved him so much, but I also hated him for pushing me away. I hated him for making me love him.
“Hey, can we talk?”
“Of course,” he said, stepping by me as he pulled his keys out to unlock the door. “I was about to make dinner. Are you hungry?”
“No, thank you.”
He froze at my response, taking me in anew. His eyes travelled over me, his expression questioning. I wasn’t there to eat. I’d come to get what I needed to say off my chest, and then I was leaving.
Jonathan’s gaze turned sad as he blew out a breath. “All right, well, come on in.”
I followed him into the house. It had been a few months since I’d been there, but it was still the same. I adored the place so much, and before I’d moved out, I would’ve given anything to have the money to purchase it from Jonathan. But I felt differently now. I was by no means over my grief, but I was past the worst of it, and surprisingly, I didn’t feel so tethered to Leonora’s house any longer.
I’d made new memories, new attachments, mainly to Jonathan and the apartment I was living in. I’d never imagined a world where I might become attached to my new life, not with how uncomfortable I’d been with the luxury apartment in the beginning. But I liked living there, liked being able to go across the hall to Jonathan’s and spend the night with him, liked having him check in on me in the evenings.
My heart broke as I imagined our little routine with one another coming to an end.
Jonathan went into the kitchen and began unpacking his groceries onto the counter. I took a seat by the table, my eyes tracing the strong lines of his broad back, until I noticed what he’d purchased. The ingredients for Leonora’s spaghetti. He was cooking it for himself. Did that mean it didn’t affect him anymore to eat it? Was that progress?
Once he had his groceries unpacked and put away, he finally turned to face me. He just stared at me for a long time, so long I could hardly breathe, his gaze tipping over my cheeks and lips before he sighed. “It’s really good to see your face.”
I folded my hands in my lap, feeling a tenderness at the statement but also an antagonism. It was the latter that won out. “That’s surprising,” I muttered flatly under my breath.
I knew he heard when his expression saddened, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he asked, “Can I get you something to drink? Tea? Coffee? Juice?”
He seemed uncharacteristically nervous as he tucked his hands into the large pocket at the front of his black hoodie. “No, I don’t need anything to drink,” I replied, and his expression fell for an instant before he masked it. I cleared my throat. “Can I ask why you’ve been staying here?”
His expression clouded as he stared down at the countertop. “I’m not entirely sure I have a clear answer to that, Ada. When we got back from Cork, I just had this intense need to be here.”
I studied him, and his eyes flicked up, latching onto mine. God, I cared about him so much. This was one of the most difficult conversations I’d ever had. “And is it helping? Being here, I mean?”
“I think so, yes.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I, um—” He opened a drawer beneath the counter, pulling out a small, leather-bound notebook that looked familiar. “I found Mam’s diary.” He picked it up and flicked through the pages. “It has about two years of her appointments and social engagements. Reading through it feels like living life through her eyes a little bit.” He let out a sad laugh. “Who would have thought I could feel a connection with Mam beyond the grave through something as mundane as her dentist appointments and Bridge Club meet ups?”
I smiled faintly, remembering how Leonora liked to write down her appointments and social engagements so she knew where she had to be on any given day. She’d been retired but lived a very full and active life. Something about Jonathan latching onto the diary had my heart clenching. He had so little of her that even reading her appointments meant so much. “And has it helped?”
He nodded. “I’ve been living her routine this past week, just going to all the places she liked to go. Eating in the café she frequented, shopping at the same supermarket, taking walks along the beach. It probably sounds ridiculous, but I just …” He shook his head at himself.
“It’s not ridiculous. We all grieve in our own way.”
“This house,” he said, eyes going about the room. “I have a love-hate relationship with it. This is where all my best and worst memories occurred. This kitchen is where I gave Mam one of my first report cards, and she smiled so proudly when she read my teacher’s comments about my talent for numbers, how I might be a prodigy. We shared all our meals here, laughed and talked about our days, mine at school and hers at the office.” He fell silent, his mood darkening. “But it’s also where one of her boyfriends slammed my head into the wall for talking back to him.” He gestured to the wall at his left. “It’s where I caught another boyfriend rifling through her handbag to steal her credit card. That was the same arsehole who’d tried blaming the theft on me. She always fucking …” he trailed off, and I saw his throat bob as he swallowed.
“She always believed them over me first. She wanted to be in love so badly that she wilfully overlooked a million red flags. Then, inevitably, they’d fuck up so much that I’d be proven right, and she’d finally believe me, admit she was wrong and beg for forgiveness. She invited an endless cycle of fuck ups, thieves and manipulators into our lives. That’s why I cut her out when your dad came along. I truly believed she was going to put us through the same cycle all over again, and I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stay and watch her get hurt, which in turn would hurt me. So, I gave her the ultimatum that she could either have your father in her life or me. She refused to make the choice, but in the end, that was a choice in itself. So, I cut off all contact. I hardened my heart to stone.” His eyes flicked up. “When I found out I had a half sister in Maggie, it softened me some, but I don’t think my heart truly opened up again until you walked into my life, Ada.”
“Then why have you been avoiding me ever since we got back from Cork?”
He blinked. “Avoiding you?”
“Yes, I’ve been waiting for you to finally call or text and say you wanted to see me, but you never did. It’s why I’m here. I just don’t want to drag this out any more than necessary. If you don’t want to be with me anymore, then—”
“What?” his voice was low, full of gravel.
I blinked. “That’s what this is, right? A ghosting of sorts.”
“ Ada .” In a blink, he traversed the room until he was kneeling before me, taking my hands into his. “I am not ghosting you.”
My lip quivered, and I willed it to still. “But you haven’t asked to see me. You’ve barely been in touch, and look, if you feel bad about ending things, you don’t need to. I’d rather not prolong it, and if you’re trying to save my feelings—” I became aware of Jonathan shaking his head. “What?”
“Have you any idea how much I adore you?” he murmured, gaze soft, and my heart stuttered. “You’re the only good thing in my life.”
“But that doesn’t make sense. You’ve been so distant.”
Jonathan exhaled a heavy breath, his thumbs tracing circles on my wrists. “Fuck, Ada, I’m sorry. I’ve been so deep in my own shit I’ve barely considered what you might be thinking. I’ve stayed away because I’ve been trying to get my feelings under control. When you told me about your accident and how your father caused it … Christ, I’ve never felt such anger. Maddening anger that had nowhere to go because it was levelled at a dead man.”
“Jonathan,” I breathed, heart hammering. “I didn’t tell you about the accident so you’d be angry at my father. I told you because I wanted to be open with you. I wanted you to understand everything about me and why I am how I am.”
His hand came up to cup my cheek. “And I do. I understand you entirely, Ada Rose.” He inhaled sharply. “But to be honest, I’ve not felt worthy of you. I suffered because of my mother’s choice in partners, but it was nothing compared to what had happened to you. The fact that you found the capacity to forgive when I couldn’t, I felt inferior.”
“You’re not inferior. If Leonora hadn’t been taken so soon, I’m sure you would’ve mended your relationship. Time was cruelly snatched away from you by a freak accident. That’s all. You would’ve forgiven her, too, just like I forgave Dad. Perhaps even sooner than I did because, remember, I hadn’t spoken to my dad in almost twenty years. That’s twice as long as you and Leonora were apart.”
Jonathan held my gaze, his blue eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve fucking missed you,” he breathed.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I whispered, and he lifted our hands to press his lips to the inside of my wrist. “Forgive me?”
I nodded, swallowing down the lump in my throat. Hearing Jonathan’s reasons for staying away, the small glimpse he’d given into his life growing up, I couldn’t stay mad at him. I understood how he’d felt after I told him about my accident because hearing how Leonora believed her shitty boyfriends time and again over her own son had me angry at her just like Jonathan was angry at Dad. There was a time when I couldn’t think of a single reason why he’d want to cut a woman as lovely as his mother from his life. But now I could. She might’ve been a wonderful woman in many ways, but Leonora was flawed, just like my dad. She hadn’t been a perfect parent, and Jonathan had suffered because of her choices.
I thought of the younger versions of him. Jonathan as a little boy, a teenager, a young man, just wishing for his mother not to bring more men into their lives who would upturn everything. He just wanted to feel safe, but he hadn’t been afforded that privilege.
Tears threatened to fall, and not wanting to look like a blubbering mess in front of Jonathan, I stood from my seat, my hands falling from his hold. “Can I use the bathroom?”
His fingers lightly touched my elbows. “Of course. Will you stay for dinner?”
“Yes, I’d love to.”
Before I could step away, he pulled me into his arms, holding me close before his lips found mine. It was a whisper of a kiss, a little I’m sorry that I appreciated. I kissed him back gently then withdrew.
Heading towards the bathroom, I passed by my old bedroom and paused, seeing the unmade bed and Jonathan’s suitcase by the door. Had he been sleeping in my room? Curiosity got the better of me as I stepped inside and found a bunch of his things strewn about. On the desk were two laptops, alongside a stack of files and other papers. He’d obviously been working from home the last few days and had created a makeshift office in my old bedroom. The fact that he’d chosen to sleep where I used to sleep had all the love I felt for him rushing forth, filling me up like I might burst.
Then my eyes caught on something typed out on one of the papers, several key phrases standing out, the main ones being “Pinebrook Lodge,” “Acquisition” and “Sale agreement.”
What on earth?
My mind raced until I came to only one conclusion that made sense.
Jonathan was the angel investor who wanted to purchase Pinebrook.