Chapter 10 #2
Coming out to my parents was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I had no choice. I wanted to truly be the person I always had been deep down. And that included introducing that person to them. Back then, I didn’t care what the consequences would be. It was like an act of liberation.
Until I saw the disappointment on my father’s face, and the tears in my mum’s eyes. Until they started treating me differently, so that I preferred to spend my time with my friends because I couldn’t stand being at home.
I don’t want to be the one to force Kesh to do anything he’s not ready for. I’m his friend. Whatever there has been between us, my job is to be there for him, whatever he decides. Even if he never told his parents, I should have his back.
And that’s exactly the problem.
I want more than secret kisses and whispered promises that we can’t keep, but at the moment, that’s all Kesh can give me.
I’ve seen that more than once this evening.
It’s not a new understanding, but it hurts a bit more each time.
Because he’s my friend and I can see that slipping away, me losing him more than I’ve already done.
Largely because I’m in love with him and I don’t know how the fuck I’m meant to stop.
The thought makes my eyes sting. I swallow hard and blink repeatedly.
“Alistair…” Kesh murmurs, taking a step toward me.
I shake my head and look down at my toes.
I can’t insist that he tell the world about us.
He can’t insist that we hide our relationship.
Nothing can come of us. We both know it.
I look up to Kesh’s face again, let my gaze roam from his cheekbones to his hint of stubble to his lips.
I look into his dark eyes. And I do the thing I should have done long ago: I nip the rest of my hope in the bud.
“Maybe we’d better stay apart from each other in future.”
All the color drains from Kesh’s face. “Alistair…”
Before I have the chance to regret my decision, I turn and leave.
Graham
Lydia’s eyes widen as she sees me.
“What are you doing here?” she breathes, barely audible.
I open my mouth to reply, but after a moment, I shut it again. I can only stand there and stare at her as my fingers grip the bunch of flowers in my hand.
There’s so much I want to say, but at this moment, I can’t utter a word.
Maybe it’s nerves. Or that I’m not sure we want the same thing. A week ago, I thought we’d cleared things up between us, but then her dad got in the way, and now I have no idea where we stand.
I want to finally be the man Lydia deserves. The man she met that first summer. But what if she no longer wants me? What if she’s come to the conclusion that she’s better off without me?
“I needed to see you,” I manage after a while.
Lydia just keeps on staring at me.
“Would you like to come in?” Ms. Beaufort intervenes, stepping to one side.
I look inquiringly at Lydia instead of answering.
The seconds that pass feel like an eternity. Finally, Lydia nods slowly. I clear my throat and walk up the last two steps into the house.
“Go through to the conservatory,” Ms. Beaufort tells Lydia. “I’ll make some tea.”
I follow Lydia down the hall into a large sitting room, and then through a pair of double doors into a cozy conservatory.
In passing, Lydia flicks a switch, and the next moment, hundreds of tiny lights come on in the wooden floor.
Through the windows, I can see the landscape surrounding Ophelia Beaufort’s house.
I knew from what Lydia told me that she lives in the middle of nowhere, but I hadn’t realized that that literally meant there was nothing but a little petrol station within a radius of five miles.
“These are for you,” I say awkwardly, handing her the flowers.
Lydia takes the bouquet of pink roses, gerberas, and chrysanthemums and lifts it to her face.
The hint of a smile plays around her lips as she sniffs.
My throat goes dry, and I’m wondering if she’s reading my gesture correctly.
If she understands how much this moment means to me.
Because this is the first time I’ve given her a gift without first glancing around to check that nobody can see us.
Lydia looks at the flowers for another heartbeat, then she clears her throat. “Thanks.”
Then silence falls again. I want to look around the room, but I can’t take my eyes off Lydia.
She’s wearing a pale blue, baggy shirt and glossy black leggings.
Her hair is in an untidy knot, with stray strands sticking up or falling into her face.
She doesn’t look like the Lydia I know, and the very fact that I’ve never seen her like this before shows me just how little time we’ve actually spent together—and how much catching up I’d like to do.
Just as the silence between us is getting unbearable, Lydia points to the brown leather seats in the middle of the room. She walks over and sits down. As she sets the flowers carefully on the little coffee table, I see how much her fingers are shaking.
I hate her feeling like this because of me.
I walk over, but instead of joining her on the sofa, I sit in an armchair diagonally opposite.
“I was so worried about you,” I say quietly. “You can’t just send me an email like that and then vanish off the face of the earth.”
The leather creaks under my weight. I rest an arm on the chair and turn aside so that I can look directly at Lydia. She has both her palms flat on her thighs.
“I know.”
I feel like there’s a thick wall of concrete between us, and neither of us knows how to break it down. Just a week ago, I thought we could be together if I just found the guts to leave Maxton Hall. Suddenly, I’m not so sure.
“Would you like to tell me what happened?” I ask.
Lydia avoids my eyes, looks down at her hands. She runs them over her leggings and smooths her blouse.
“Lydia,” I whisper when she doesn’t answer. I say no more than her name, but I try to put everything into it: my feelings for her and the faith I still have in us.
Questioningly, she raises her eyes again. I can see that they’re glittering with tears.
“You can tell me everything. Anything at all. And no matter what your father may have threatened, I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to. I’m never going to pretend we’re strangers again. I meant what I said at the Spring Ball. I want to be with you.”
The first tears escape from the corner of her eye. At once, I slip off the chair and kneel before her.
She keeps her head down, tears running over her face, dripping onto her legs. Cautiously, I stretch out a hand and run my thumb over her wet cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice trembling.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” I reply, now laying my hand on her cheek.
“Right from the start, I sucked you into my mess. I’ve never been more than a burden to you. And now you’ve lost your job because of me. I break everything I touch, Graham.”
Fiercely, I shake my head and now bring my other hand up to her face. I wait until she’s looking at me again.
“You never broke anything. Far from it. I’d have looked for another job either way. Just because it’s happened this way doesn’t make it a bad thing.”
Lydia just shakes her head. It’s killing me to see her like this.
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most. But I’ll stay with you always now, if you’ll let me.”
“Don’t say things like that,” Lydia gasps, looking at me from her tear-stained face.
“I mean it,” I whisper firmly, wiping her tears away with my fingers. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
She gulps hard. Her whole body suddenly tenses.
“Yes, there is.”
“Then tell me about it,” I reply quietly.
“I should have told you ages ago,” Lydia whispers, and I can see the fear that’s filling her whole body reflected in her sad, green-blue eyes. “It’s going to…” She coughs. “It’s going to wreck your life even more than it already is.”
My mouth and throat go dry. Her panic is starting to rub off on me, but I can’t imagine that whatever she wants to tell me is worse than what we’ve already been through together.
“What is it, Lydia?”
She looks at me through damp lashes. I recognize the precise moment when she finds the courage to speak the words.
“I’m pregnant.”
My thumbs freeze on Lydia’s cheeks.
“Sorry?” I say, barely audibly.
“I’m pregnant,” she repeats. “With twins.”
I stare up at her. Pressure builds in my chest, keeps rising, until I feel like I might explode at any moment. Lydia’s words echo in my head, gradually forming into a picture that takes my breath away.
“Truly?” I croak.
She nods. She’s stopped breathing, I think, the same as me.
The whole gamut of feelings races through me.
I can’t control them, or the thoughts whirling around my head.
Without hesitation, I lean forward and press my lips onto Lydia’s forehead.
A sob emerges from her throat, and I pull her to me and hold her tight.
There are no questions, no boundaries, or anything else in this moment. I gently rock her in my arms.
“I was so scared to tell you,” she says in a muffled whisper.
I just shake my head.
In this second, I can’t let her go. This news ought to have knocked me for six, but it’s done the exact opposite.
Deep down, I felt everything in my life fall into place from one moment to the next.
The uncertainty and fear that I felt just a few minutes ago have disappeared, and joy and excitement sweep through me, making me dizzy as I breathe way too fast.
I let go of Lydia. Still kneeling on the floor, hands around her arms, I look up at her and say, my voice shaking, “You’ve just made me very happy.”
Disbelief fills her glittering eyes. She blinks twice.
The next moment, she flings her arms around my neck. I hug her back, pull Lydia as close to me as I can, and just hold her tight. Seconds pass, minutes, eternity.
I can’t say how long we stay in that position; all I know is that it’s the most beautiful moment in my life.
“I should have told you so long ago,” Lydia repeats after a while, leaning back a bit, but without removing her arms from around my neck.
“When did you find out?” I ask.
“November.”
I shut my eyes for a moment. “Oh, Lydia.”
“I didn’t know what to do,” she whispers, but I shake my head.
“That you were that scared of how I’d react”—I exhale raggedly—“that’s killing me.” I look her straight in the eyes. “This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the corners of her lips lift.
I run my hand gently down her back.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen, Graham.”
“Me neither. But we’ll find out. Together,” I say. “We’ve got this.”
Lydia strokes her fingers over the back of my neck. A gentle shiver runs through me as they move forward, over my chin and the stubble on my jaw.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispers. Her eyes flit to my lips, then back to meet mine. Away again. The next moment, she leans forward, very slowly. I shut my eyes and meet her halfway.
As our lips come together, it’s like a lightning strike in my stomach.
There are so many things we urgently need to discuss. But this kiss is like a promise. It means that we’re putting the past behind us. And that, in this moment, something new is beginning for us.