24. We’ll Get You Through It
WE’LL GET YOU THROUGH IT
AIDEN
Over the past two weeks, I’ve noticed a marked change in how Tara is acting, almost as though that afternoon in my apartment flicked a switch within her. She’s been smiling more, and hasn’t once sighed when I’ve had to ask for help on something that I should definitely know how to do by now.
I still don’t know what had caused her to cry that day, but I’m relieved that she seems to be doing better.
Or maybe she’s just a fantastic actress and I’m completely off base.
She even agreed to let me drive her to the airport today, which is why I’m waiting in the hall outside her apartment with my suitcase beside me. It’s been a few minutes since I knocked and she yelled out to give her a sec.
“Hey, sorry to make you wait. I was just getting everything ready for Bri when she arrives to look after Toulouse,” Tara says as soon as she opens the door.
She looks a little flushed while she pulls her suitcase behind her, and a lock of her hair has escaped from the messy bun on top of her head.
Despite her flustered appearance though, she looks stunning.
While I’ve always found her attractive, there’s something different about her today, and I forget to respond while I try to work out what it is.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks, looking down at herself before meeting my gaze again.
“Nn… Nothing, sorry, was just lost in thought for a moment. You look nice,” I reply, tripping over my words while I feel my cheeks grow warm.
What is it about this woman that makes me turn into a bumbling mess half the time?
She narrows her eyes for a moment, before turning to pull the door closed behind her and slipping her large handbag over her shoulder.
“Thanks. I let Sylvia take me shopping.” She waves her hand down her body, and I follow its path, taking in her fitted jeans and wrap top.
And I realise that’s what’s different. Her clothes actually fit her, rather than the baggy clothes I’ve become accustomed to seeing her wear in the office.
Although I’ve seen her outside of work a few times now, her casual dress seems to lean the same way, like she’s trying to hide herself away from the world.
“Well, you look great,” I say with a nod.
I try not to look at her for too long, wary of making her feel uncomfortable, but it’s hard to tear my gaze away. I just want to drink it all in.
Her cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink, and she looks down again, before clearing her throat.
“Thanks. Again.” She smiles, motioning towards the lift. “Should we go?”
I nod, moving aside so she can lead the way back down the hall.
We reach my car in the basement car park, and she eyes the white BMW SUV with a raised eyebrow. She hadn’t seen the car yet, as it only arrived this week and we hadn’t had any client appointments together.
“Fancy,” she comments, and I hold my breath, waiting for the next comment.
But it doesn’t come. She waits while I open the back of the car, placing her suitcase beside mine before I have a chance to take it from her.
Part of me wants to explain why I ended up with a company car. To defend myself against judgement. But I bite my tongue, determined not to draw more attention to it than necessary.
“So, have you been to Singapore before?” she asks after she slides into the passenger seat.
I turn on the engine and back the car out of my space, trying to appear more confident behind the wheel than I actually am. While I’ve had my licence for years, there hadn’t been much cause for me to drive in London, and I’m a little rusty.
“Yeah, I had a stop over there when I came back, so I stayed a couple of extra days. It’s nice. Hot, though.”
“We flew through it when we went to Europe two years ago, but we just connected through and I didn’t get to see anything.” Out of the corner of my eye, I notice her gripping the handle on the car door.
Either my driving is really terrible, or she’s a nervous passenger. I’m hoping it’s the latter.
We make further small talk for the rest of the drive, but it’s not until we’re waiting in line to check our luggage that she seems to relax a little, and even start to show a little excitement.
“I see we’re seated together. Think you can put up with me for the next ten hours?” I ask, grinning at her while I hold up our tickets and our suitcases disappear behind the counter on the conveyor belt.
She rolls her eyes. “Ugh, I should just leave now.” She pokes her tongue out before giggling a little.
It’s the lightest I’ve ever seen her, and I love it .
“Huh, I’ll go flag you down a taxi then. Your bag’s coming with me, though, sorry.” I pretend to walk back towards the entrance, and she grabs my arm, tugging me back.
“Oh, shoosh you. Come on, let’s go deal with security. I want to check out the business class lounge. I’ve never been in one before.”
“I’ve only ever been to the ones in London and Singapore on my trip here,” I say when we fall into step side by side, heading for the escalator leading down to security.
“Really? I would have thought you’d done it every time you travelled?” She cocks her head to the side.
“Why’s that?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Well… You’re rich, right?” she asks, looking uncomfortable.
I laugh, probably harder than I should. “Uh, no. Far from it.”
Her eyebrows knit together. “But… you’re David’s son.”
“And until six months ago, I saw very little of him or his money. He kind of just left my mother and me with nothing.” It’s the closest I’ve come to telling anyone about my strained relationship with my father.
Tara looks horrified. “What?”
I shrug. “It is what it is. I think he’s trying to make up for it all now, in his own round-about way.”
She shakes her head. “I guess… You seem to be a little too okay with that, though,” she says, coming to a stop at the end of the short line outside security, which is moving surprisingly quickly.
“Believe me, I’m not as okay with it as I seem.
But I need a job, and after all the years of taking care of Mum, I have no qualifications.
So I would have been stupid to turn down this opportunity.
Besides, other than my friend Sarah, there’s nothing left for me in London now.
After Mum’s stroke, a lot of my friendships disappeared, and once she passed…
I guess this was just the only choice I had that didn’t lead to me working in retail or hospitality and struggling to survive in one of the most expensive cities in the world.
” It’s the first time I’ve admitted any of this out lo ud to anyone, as it had felt so pathetic that a man at my age is basically starting out.
Tara considers me for a moment, but we’ve reached the top of the line, and we have to split up, frantically dumping our laptops out of bags into the plastic tubs.
I remove my belt, but the security agent waves me away when I go to remove my shoes, which is a relief.
I always find this part of travel stressful - trying to move quickly while taking off the items that take the longest to put back on.
Once we make it through the gauntlet and have gathered our things, Tara is still looking at me with that sympathetic look on her face. It doesn’t make me feel great, and I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. But what she says next surprises me.
“I understand how it feels to have a shitty relationship with your father. Mine cheated on my mother when I was fifteen. He got his assistant pregnant and abandoned us to start a family with her. I’m sorry you’re in a position now that you have to work for the man who you have a similar relationship with. ”
I shrug. “Honestly, I’ve been trying to get past it.
It’s not easy, especially because quite often, it seems like he doesn’t have a soul.
A saying I heard once - You can’t change the past, but you can choose how you frame it.
I’m learning that forgiving him is more about helping me move forward than because he deserves it or because he’s changed. ”
She stops walking for a moment, and I turn to look at her, stopping a few steps ahead.
“Is it that easy, though?” she asks, her expression thoughtful.
“It definitely isn’t easy. I still have moments where I want to throttle him. Or throw a teenaged size tantrum. But it was something I needed to do for myself. I don’t think he even realises anything has changed, to be honest.”
She begins walking again, nodding while looking deep in thought, and we make our way through the crowd of people to get to the business class lounge for the airline we’re using.
While I speak to the woman at the front, Tara peeks through the door, her eyes wide.
Once we get inside, she takes it all in silently, her mouth open in the cutest little ‘oh’, while her head swivels to look from one thing to another.
“You okay?” I ask, struggling not to show my amusement.
“Just drinking it all in. Don’t know if I’ll ever get to see inside one of these again,” she says, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
“It’s not a library, you know. We can have a conversation at a normal volume,” I say with a grin.
She lightly smacks my arm. “Oh shoosh.”
“If you think this one is special, wait til you see the one in Singapore.”
Her eyes widen again. “I hadn’t even thought about the return part. Okay, I’m looking forward to this now. If this is just the airport part, I wonder what our hotel is like?”
We find a table, placing our bags down before heading to the buffet to grab breakfast.
“Have you not looked it up?” I ask.
She gives me a sheepish look. “Um… I was too scared to, in case I didn’t end up coming.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Why did you think you might not end up coming?”
“Well… This all just seemed to be a little too good to be true. I kept waiting for David to say ‘actually, scratch that, Tara’s not going now’.”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t have let that happen. We’re a team, remember?”
She’s quiet for a moment while she serves herself from the buffet, making sure her fruit doesn’t touch her bacon and eggs.
When she does look back up at me, her smile nearly knocks me off my feet.
There’s a warmth to it that I’ve only ever seen on her face when she’s talking to or about her friends, and to have that smile turn on for me makes my heart feel like it’s being squeezed .
“Thanks Aiden. I appreciate that. I really am sorry for being such a bitch in the beginning.”
I shrug. “You had your reasons, and they were valid. But I’m glad we’ve been able to move past it all.” I clear my throat. “I’d like to think that we’re friends now,” I add, feeling nervous in case I’ve overstepped.
She continues to smile. “Yes, Aiden. We’re friends.”
Well, thank goodness for that.
Over the next hour, I’ve noticed that Tara seems to grow increasingly anxious, her eyes constantly darting to the screen showing the departure times while she bites her lip.
I don’t think she’s even read a word of the book she’s holding.
I didn’t say anything while I’ve been trying to get on top of my emails so that we don’t fall behind at work, because Tara’s inbox is empty.
I wish I had her organisation skills.
By the time we’re in line to board, Tara has gone almost mute, her face pale.
“Are you feeling okay?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No… I kind of forgot how much I’m scared of flying.”
“How do you forget that you’re afraid of flying?”
“By convincing myself that I wasn’t going to actually get on the plane, obviously. So I didn’t think about this part. It’s been two years since I flew anywhere, when we went to Europe. I had to take a Valium both ways.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Did you bring any with you?”
She shakes her head. “No,” she squeaks.
I reach down and take her hand, squeezing it gently. “It’ll be okay. Maybe you’ll be so distracted being in business class that you won’t even notice,” I say, hoping she believes that.
She glances down at our hands, our fingers laced together, before looking up at me and letting out a long breath. “Thank you.”
I squeeze again. “No worries. We’ll get you through it and you’ll see there’s nothing to be scared of.”
She smiles, appearing to be trying to put on a brave face. And my heart does a little skip when she squeezes my hand back.
And doesn’t let go.