Page 77 of The Do-Over

‘I don’t know,’ I say quietly. His expression barely changes, but I know it’s not what he was hoping to hear. ‘This is all new for me,’ I explain quickly. ‘But I want to love you. You deserve love, and I want to be the one to give it to you. I just don’t know if I can be enough for you.’

He leans forward and takes both my hands in his. ‘You’re already enough, Thea. You’ve always been enough.’

We sit there, immobile, for what feels like hours.

‘What happens now?’ I ask eventually.

‘What do you want to happen?’

‘I’m not coming back to London. You know that, right? My life is in Kent now.’

‘I know.’

‘And there’s your job to consider. I know what it’s like, remember.’

‘Yes.’

‘So? Come on. Tell me how this works. You’re never normally short of an opinion.’

‘I don’t know. I guess we figure it out as we go along. That’s what most people do, I believe.’

There’s another long pause before the next question pushes its way to the front of my head.

‘Would you really have come to my wedding dressed in a velvet suit if I’d asked you?’

‘Yes. It would have been incredibly painful to watch you marry someone else, but I would have done it. That’s what you do when you love someone.’

‘I’m not sure I would have done it, if our roles were reversed.’

‘You’re a shit friend,’ he says with a smile.

‘Yeah, I probably am,’ I agree. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You don’t have anything to be sorry for, at least, not where I’m concerned.’

‘I disagree. I feel like I used you; I never spotted how you felt; I never had an alarm on my phone counting down the days. I was about to start seeing someone else, for God’s sake!’

There’s another long silence before Alasdair speaks.

‘Why don’t you tell me what’s going on in that incredible mind of yours?’ he says gently.

‘At the moment, I’m terrified, excited and worried.’

‘All at once? Sounds exhausting. What are you worried about?’

‘How we move forward. If we move forward. I’m committed in Kent, you’re never going to be around and you made it very clear when you came down that you hate the countryside.’

‘Ah, I might have a confession about that.’

‘Go on.’

‘I don’t hate the countryside at all. I admit I was grumpy when I first arrived, but that was mainly because it was so clear that you’d moved on and built this whole life that I wasn’t a part of. I had this fantasy where you’d missed me like I’ve missed you, and it pissed me off that you hadn’t. I think, if I’m really honest, I was a little bit jealous. Sorry.’

‘Really?’

‘So I’m not perfect. Sue me.’

‘OK, you don’t hate the country. I’m still never going to see you though, am I.’

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