Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
As soon as Jack floated up from the light, punch-drunk doze, he knew exactly where he was.
Their bed. The one they’d shared on and off ever since he went to university.
A little pang pierced him – regret, relief, he wasn’t sure which, but it certainly made the decision he’d been toying with, ever since that email had popped into his inbox, a bit easier. He’d turn the interview down.
He smiled as he beheld the state of the bedroom.
As usual it looked like a tornado had torn through it.
A jumble of clothes was piled on the chair by the door.
Make-up, jewellery, hair clips and other typical Bets randomness.
Detritus – an acorn, a rusty key, a broken plastic biro and an egg cup – was strewn across the top of the chest of drawers.
She’d always had a tendency to pick things up and stuff them in her pockets.
He stretched, his body sated and relaxed, and for a moment he lay back trying to work out what felt different.
Then it came to him; it was as if a heavy burden had gone that he hadn’t even been aware of.
The smile curving his lips deepened as the memory of the previous few hours tumbled through his brain.
Bets’ soft body, her answering passion. Flares of pleasure fired through his brain with each remembrance.
The revelation almost floored him. It had been like making love with someone new – but he’d felt as different as she had.
Their responses were more fervent, the feelings more thrilling and …
the orgasm. He thought he’d explode from the vital, life-affirming release.
He wasn’t exactly a romantic but … he almost shook his head at his own uncharacteristic fancifulness …
it had been like all the songs, books and films. Was he being ridiculous?
He’d laughed at Devon, telling him how hard he’d fallen for Ella. Not now.
Where was Bets?
Her rumpled side of the bed was cold. He frowned, checking the time on his wristwatch, the only thing he wore. Four o’clock. Four hours since they’d left the practice. He was still on call but thankfully his phone had remained silent.
Forcing his limbs into action he swung his legs out of the bed.
The undersides of his feet felt sensitive against the carpet, even though he’d been here a hundred times before.
Rising, he stepped forward, grabbed his robe, still on the back of the door, and padded down the stairs towards the kitchen.
Bets sat at the table in her own robe, the slightly threadbare velour one that she’d had for ever, clutching a cup of coffee, staring into space. She looked delightfully rumpled, her curls sticking up in all directions.
She looked up at his approach, her face guarded.
A frisson of foreboding danced in the pit of his stomach.
‘Hi,’ he said softly.
‘Hi,’ she replied, her tone a little wary. Guilt poked hard at him. He’d done this to her.
‘Mind if I make one of those?’ he asked, very conscious that this was her home and he was the interloper.
She gave him a sad smile as if the reminder was unwelcome. ‘Help yourself.’
Tiggy sat at her feet and shot Jack a deeply suspicious look. Was that a sneer on her face? Could dogs even sneer? It was certainly a very good facsimile of one, with her upper lip curling a little.
He made himself a cup of tea and sat down opposite Bets, his heart warming at the sight of her in the kitchen where they’d spent so much time.
He’d been scared of this familiarity, scared that they’d fallen into a rut, but now, with the rain hammering down outside, in the cosy kitchen, there was nowhere else he’d rather be.
He loved her. Loved her more. Differently. He saw her.
Bets let out a little sigh. ‘We need to talk.’ She looked so sad and he needed to reassure her. This wasn’t a one-off. For old time’s sake. Not a heat-of-the-moment event.
He reached for her hand and laid his over hers. It was ice-cold.
‘We do.’ His eyes traced her face, the big green eyes, the turned-up nose… Most people described her as cute but there was so much more. He bit his lip. He’d made such a mess of things. His life in Bristol. His life here. He was an idiot.
‘I made a mistake. I’m really sorry.’
Her eyes sharpened.
‘Not today. That wasn’t a mistake. Never.
I made a terrible mistake finishing things.
I still love you. I want to start over.’ Even as he said the words, he realised how bald they were, how insubstantial and inadequate.
There was so much more he should have said but he didn’t know how to make up for the huge mistake he’d made.
Her eyes filled with tears, and guilt pinched even harder this time. He’d hurt her and he regretted it beyond anything.
‘I’m so sorry, Bets. I was an idiot. I didn’t realise … until today.’
She pursed her mouth and sniffed.
‘You are,’ she agreed, her expression unusually blank. For a moment, he felt a flare of misgiving, not helped by the dog staring at him with definite malice. Okay, maybe he was exaggerating but Tiggy did not look particularly friendly. Positively disdainful, in fact.
He shifted his attention back to Bets, studying her face, and she withdrew her hand to cup her mug again. She lifted her chin and her eyes suddenly blazed into life.
‘You didn’t see me until recently, did you?’
‘What?’ he asked confused.
‘You never saw me before. And now you have, you want to start over.’ There was a cutting tone to her words and suddenly it was akin to stepping into a minefield. He had no idea which direction to take, which words to choose.
‘I…’ Now he really felt like an idiot.
‘What you want…’ she said, rising and pacing away to the sink. She turned and leaned her back against it, looking at him, her eyes full of fury.
‘You broke my heart and you think you can just saunter back in and pick up the pieces. Suture them back together because you’re the golden boy who gets everything he wants.’
The words punched him in the gut.
She paused, drawing in a controlled breath. ‘What about what I want?’ Despite her glare and the pause, he had a feeling she wasn’t expecting an answer. ‘You didn’t take that into consideration when you dumped me. By telephone. I didn’t even merit a visit in person.’
With a whirl, her robe flapping around her legs, she strode towards him, her chin lifted, every part of her body on the offensive, magnificent and furious in equal measure.
In that moment, he was proud of her and ashamed of himself for taking the easy way out.
He’d been a coward, too scared of hurting her to be honest with her, so instead he just let things drift, coming home less often, putting her off visiting him.
It was like looking in a mirror and discovering that he really didn’t like himself.
‘I want more,’ she said simply. ‘I’ve spent the last few years being half of a pair. Not really knowing who I was. Vet nurse, Jack’s girlfriend, the council-estate girl.’
‘You are more,’ he said and although he meant it, he also understood.
‘You said it yourself at the wedding. You were scared this was all there was and scared that I’d be a burden on you. Well, you’re right and I don’t want this to be all there is. I want more.’
He did understand but that didn’t make it any easier.
‘I still love you,’ he said. It was selfish and about what he wanted but he needed her to know.
She looked at him sadly, seeming so much more than she’d ever been. Now he could see her in a new light. Her own person.
‘And I still love you, but it isn’t enough. It would be so easy to go back to the status quo.’ With a mirthless laugh she added, ‘The whole village would love it. But it’s my turn for an adventure.’
He swallowed hard. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all, and a tiny part of him resented her saying it, because it brought it home to him that there was no one but himself to blame for this.
He’d only thought about himself in the last few years.
He’d been selfish and put himself first. It didn’t make it any easier but he understood. And he liked himself even less.
She paused. ‘And I’ve been asked out by someone else.’
He looked up sharply. ‘Who?’ The cosy glow inside him drained away.
‘Sorry, Jack, but it’s none of your business anymore.’ Even though her words were harsh, there was sadness in her eyes.
He’d left it too late. ‘So where does that leave us?’ he asked gently.
‘Friends,’ she said. ‘Good friends. We always will be, we’ve got so much shared history.
’ She paused. ‘I don’t regret this afternoon.
’ Her smile was suddenly bright and golden.
‘Now that was a lot of fun. But I don’t want us to be friends with benefits.
Let’s just think of it as our final goodbye.
’ Her lips twitched. ‘At least we can say we went out with a bang.’
He managed a half-laugh even though he really didn’t feel like it. This was pure Bets, light and life, joy and happiness and he’d realised it too late.
‘Only you, Bets. Only you. Can I give you a goodbye hug?’
She nodded and he embraced her. The room receded for a moment and he breathed in the soft scent of her skin, the very essence of her, for one last time.