“So? There’s no rule that says you have to spend time with any particular person, relative or friend. I broke off contact with my parents when I was eighteen, you know that. I don’t return their calls and I don’t open their Christmas cards.” He had cut family from his life, like a surgeon excising a diseased body part.
And she had no idea why.
Mia’s words popped into her head.
How well do you really know him?
That comment played on her mind. “You’ve never really talked to me about what happened.”
“And I don’t intend to.”
“But—”
“It’s in the past, Adeline.” He didn’t disguise his impatience. “The past has no relevance to the present. It’s like thinking about an apartment you no longer live in. What’s the point? Family or not, people have to earn a place in your life. They have to be worth the investment of time that goes into maintaining a relationship.”
He made it sound as if he were buying stocks and bonds.
She imagined him studying a graph depicting his investment in their relationship, deciding if he should spread his risk.
“Am I worth the investment?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think you were.” He frowned and lowered his phone. “You’re behaving strangely.”
Perhaps she wasn’t being fair on him, expecting him to understand when she hadn’t given him the facts. “It goes back to my childhood...”
“You don’t need to explain.” He put his phone back in his pocket. “As I said, the past has no relevance to the present. And I’m sure you’re aware of this, Adeline, but focusing on something that happened in your childhood when you’re thirty isn’t exactly demonstrating emotionally healthy behavior.”
In other words, he didn’t want her to explain. He wasn’t interested. He didn’t want to hear it.
The past has no relevance to the present.
As a psychologist, she knew that wasn’t true. She also knew that examining the past could indeed be emotionally healthy behavior, but she didn’t have the energy to argue with him. And maybe she wasn’t being entirely fair to judge him. They’d both agreed that they weren’t going to bring their past trauma into their current relationship, so she could hardly blame him now for not wanting to change those parameters. This was what she wanted. This was the relationship she was comfortable with.
Trying to move on, Adeline reached for the large box that had arrived that morning and tucked it into her suitcase.
Mark was watching her, wary, as if he wasn’t sure what she’d say next. “What’s that?”
“A gift from Mia. Clothes for my trip. It arrived this morning.”
He stared at it. “And you’re not even going to open the box and take a look?”
“She made me promise not to. I’m opening it when I get to Greece. It’s a surprise.”
“Is that sensible? Knowing Mia, I would have thought you’d want to check what she’s sent you.”
“What do you mean by that?” Adeline felt an immediate need to defend her friend. “She has a great sense of style.” She knew that Mark didn’t like Mia any more than Mia liked Mark. He’s a robot, Adeline. But that didn’t worry her unduly, although occasionally she did find herself wishing that the two people she liked most were a little more tolerant of each other. She reminded herself that it didn’t matter if her friend liked her boyfriend. It only mattered that she liked him.
“Style is subjective. Her appearance is a bit flamboyant and attention-seeking for my taste, but I can see she might appeal to some.” Mark saw her expression change and sighed. “And now I’ve offended you, and that wasn’t my intention. I was just pointing out that you and Mia don’t have the same taste. You’re more conservative than she is, thank goodness, so it might be wise to check what she has packed for you.”
Was she conservative?
Was conservative another word for boring? And why was he relieved? Did he want her to be boring?
She glanced at herself in the mirror. The weather was overcast and dismal and she’d chosen to wear a tailored white shirt over jeans. Her hair was fastened in a neat twist at the back of her neck. She had to admit her look wasn’t exciting. No one was going to stop her in the street and say I love your dress, as a woman had said to Mia last time the two of them had been out together. Everything about her said “safe.” Some women stood out, and some blended. She blended.
And what was wrong with that? That was the way she wanted it.
She glanced at the box in her case. Maybe Mark was right. Maybe she should open it. At least then she’d know if she needed to supplement her wardrobe.