Chapter 35
Luke
The following week, Emmy and I meet at an Italian restaurant in Borough Market. In all the nearly twenty years I’ve known her, I think this is the first time we’ve met up just the two of us. I’m nervous, and I hate that I am.
Maybe because I haven’t been on a date since my engagement to Lucy fell apart and I decided I was better off alone.
I arrive first and grab our table, ordering a bottle of chianti that I’m confident she’ll love.
The place has been family run for generations.
It smells of garlic and white wine vinegar, unfussy and honest. No queues snaking down the street like the Instagram spots, but always packed with people who know better. Their lasagne is the best in London.
Emmy arrives moments later, her face breaking into a wide smile as she sees me.
“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” she breathes, taking her seat opposite me and unfolding her napkin.
“I’m nervous too,” I whisper back and she does an exaggerated double take, clutching her chest.
“Unflappable Luke? A mere mortal after all? I’m shook,” she teases, grinning.
“I’m not unflappable,” I reply, giving her an amused smile. “But this is the first date I’ve been on in… a long time.”
She nods, eyes full of understanding.
“Me too.”
There’s a pause where we simply look at each other, some unspoken understanding passing between us. There’s a clatter from the kitchen and some loud Italian cursing as the wine arrives.
“Would madame like to try?” offers the waiter with a flourish.
“Madame would love to,” she replies with a grin.
I watch as the wine is poured and Emmy lifts the glass, giving it a delicate sniff. She closes her eyes and I take the opportunity to drink her in as she sips it.
“Delicious, thank you,” she says, proffering her glass up. The waiter fills it almost to the brim, cueing a delighted giggle from Emmy.
“You know, I don’t think I actually know much about how you and Nick became so close,” she says, looking at me through her lashes.
I shift slightly in my seat at the topic of Nick. I’m still feeling guilty about everything and he’s the last person I want to think of while my lizard brain is picturing what Emmy and I might do if we go back to mine after dinner.
“Well, we met at school, though I was two years above him. You’d have only been little then, maybe six?
” I wince slightly at the age gap, but she doesn’t react.
“Nick was about 13 or so and I was about 15 and we were on the same football team. We were both really into the same music and struck up a friendship.”
“That’s lovely. I can’t remember meeting you for the first time. It’s as if you’ve always been there.” She beams at the thought and I can’t help but smile back.
“I guess I have. I went off to uni to study economics and moved back to London in 2005. We were still good friends but uni made it harder to see each other. Nick had just done a gap year and then…” I trail off. The reason Nick didn’t make it to uni is abundantly clear.
“And then my parents died,” Emmy finishes for me.
I nod. Her eyes are slightly glassy but she gestures for me to go on.
“I don’t need to tell you that Nick became an adult with parenting responsibilities overnight. You were only 13 and it was never a question in his mind. Child services offered him the choice, you know. But he would never have walked away from you. And I would never have walked away from him.”
She smiles but it’s melancholic. I don’t need to tell her this story when she lived it.
“I’ve often wondered what it was like for him,” she says softly. “I’ll owe him for the rest of my life. I was horrible to him so many times and I didn’t tell him nearly often enough that I was grateful he was there for me.”
“We all lash out when we’re angry or afraid,” I reply, resting a hand lightly on hers. “Nick had to grow up really fucking fast. He didn’t get a lot of things right but he did his best and he did a damn better job than I would have.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” she says.
The waiter returns to take our orders and leaves us a generous portion of focaccia, olive oil, and olives. Emmy starts on the bread immediately, and I try not to stare as olive oil drips down her fingers.
“The truth is, your parents meant a lot to me too. I was 15 when I met them and they welcomed me into their home, had me over for Sunday lunches and family days out, you name it. My own parents were always emotionally distant and I was essentially raised by a nanny, so it felt so good to be part of something real for once. I was devastated when they died.”
“I didn’t know that,” she says softly. “I knew you were around a fair bit but I didn’t realise you were close to them.”
“Your mum gave me my first Fleetwood Mac vinyl, straight out of her own collection. I’ve still got it.”
“You like Fleetwood?” she says in surprise.
“Only a fool would be unable to appreciate the genius of Fleetwood,” I affirm.
She gives me a beaming smile.
“I moved the last of my stuff out of my old place with Colin last week. Mum’s collection of vinyls is at mine if you want a flick through.
I’m sure she’d be delighted if some of them actually got played.
I’ve not had a record player in years because Colin insisted that digital versions of songs sounded better. ”
“He’s a fucking cock,” I reply, and she smothers a laugh in her hand.
“You’re not wrong there. I’m glad you have been there for Nick all these years. God knows he needs you. I swear you’re the one person that keeps him sane,” she says, taking a sip of wine.
“He’s a brother to me. A few years ago, when Lucy and I split up, I was in a really dark place.
Nick was the person who got me through it.
My mental health had never been worse and it was Nick that kept showing up at my door, checking on me and giving me a reason to get my shit together.
My own parents couldn’t have cared less, my colleagues hardly knew me, and I’ve got no siblings.
Nick was the one person who never stopped being there for me. He… He saved my life.”
I bite my lip at the memory, wondering if I’ve gone too far. I’ve never told anyone about that chapter of my life, when breathing felt like hard work and getting out of bed felt like an Olympic sport. But Emmy’s looking at me with sadness in her eyes, not pity.
“I’m glad he was there for you, Luke. And I hope you know that you’ve got me now too. Friends for life,” she says softly, clinking her glass against mine.
I try not to let my heart fall through the floor at the word ‘friends’. Because that’s what we are. We’re friends who happen to be fucking. And doing it really fucking well.
“Thank you, Em.” I brush my thumb along the top of her knuckles and hold it there for a beat too long.
“Chloe’s my Nick,” she says, popping an olive into her mouth. “We only met the year Mum and Dad died but she stuck to me like glue.”
“I remember. You two were thick as thieves.”
“Still are,” she says with a grin. “She’s one of the great loves of my life. As are her gorgeous kids.”
I smile but there is a question hanging in the air between us.
“Do you want kids?” she asks, cocking her head. The air is charged.
“I’m very open about the idea of kids,” I say truthfully. “But after Lucy and I broke up, the likelihood of it happening seemed non-existent.”
“Ah yes, your vow of bachelorhood,” she says, looking up at me through her lashes.
“Yes,” I reply, a bit awkwardly. Now could be a really good time to tell her I’m seriously rethinking that vow.
There’s a beat where we just look at each other.
“I’m not so sure—” I start.
“Colin and I were going to—” she starts.
We both laugh and I bottle it, gesturing for her to continue.
“Colin and I were going to have kids once he made partner at his firm. It was always right around the corner, he said, and the salary would mean we’d be in a great position for managing childcare costs and such. Now I realise he was just stalling for time.” She rolls her eyes.
Our mains arrive – carbonara for Emmy, lasagne for me – and we tuck in.
“The joke’s on him though – now he’s gone and knocked up a 23-year-old, he’s basically saddled with two children.” She laughs bitterly. “Anyway, enough about exes. Tell me more about the decision to open Salt.”
“Ah, well after my breakup and subsequent breakdown, I started a journey not that dissimilar to yours. I’d been experimenting for years but I threw myself into the world of kink once I’d decided life was worth living after all.
I met all kinds of people through the community, through the apps, through clubs all over the world.
“I decided to say yes to virtually every opportunity that came my way. And I could see that London was missing a really high-quality club. I put my savings and the cash from a few lucky investments into a little property in Millbank and a year or so later, Salt was born.”
I smile at the memory.
“What did my brother make of it all?” She cocks her head, a slight smirk on her face.
“Oh, he was pretty shocked. Nick’s not exactly sheltered but he’s not remotely interested in the scene either. He’s always made it clear that he supports me but has never once visited the club. He knows where it is though,” I add.
She nods. We finish off our mains in companionable silence.
“Do you want to spend the night at mine tonight?” I ask, trying to sound casual. I know I’m crossing one of those invisible lines, but surely, we’ve crossed one already by having dinner together tonight? Or was our date tonight just a nice meal between friends who are sleeping together?
All I know is that I can’t get the idea of waking up with her tomorrow morning out of my head.
I’m a fool and a glutton for punishment but I can’t not ask.
My stomach does a somersault as she looks up at me in surprise.
But then her face breaks into one of her breathtaking smiles and I feel like I’m standing in the sun.
“I’d love to.”