Page 41 of Welcome to Pennycress Inn

‘No, I still love them. Thank you.’ She picked up the cup and took a sip, letting the warm cinnamon taste linger in her mouth before swallowing.

‘Are you trying to choose what to have in the hallway?’ Jackson nodded towards the wallpaper samples.

‘Yes, I just can’t decide what direction to go in.’ Placing the cup back down, she began moving the samples around on the tabletop. ‘Do I go for modern, classic or floral?’

‘What do you like?’

‘I like them all. If I go for modern, I’ll have to slowly redo the whole inn, but then I probably will eventually, anyway.’ She tapped her fingers against a pink and purple floral design on a deep green background. ‘I do like this one though and it will be in keeping with the rest of the inn and the petals might even match the lavender purple of the front door.’

‘That one is rather lovely.’ Jackson smiled.

‘It is, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, it’s very you.’

‘Huh, do you think?’ Laura frowned. For the last umpteen years, she hadn’t felt as though she’d had much of a style or any strong opinions about anything. Harry had always made the decisions about how they decorated the house, which restaurant they visited, her clothes even. Not in an overly controlling way, more that he suggested she chose the sharp-cut top rather than the flowy one she’d have chosen, or that the painting with the peppers was more in keeping with their kitchen decor than the whimsical one she’d found. She’d let him. Not because she’d been wary of his reaction, just that she’d valued his opinion and mistrusted her own. But here was Jackson, who she hadn’t spoken to or seen in a good few years, sitting opposite her and recognising which wallpaper was ‘her’.

‘Yes I do, but it doesn’t matter what I think, you’ll make the perfect decision for Pennycress.’

Keeping her eyes down, she slid the wallpaper samples around the table again.

‘Have I said something wrong?’ He reached out and touched her hand lightly.

Looking up at him, she shook her head. ‘Not at all. It’s just, I guess I’ve become so used to letting Harry make all the decisions that… I don’t know, it’s refreshing to hear someone say something like that. “This one is very you.” As if you know me better than Harry ever did.’

‘Is that so bad?’

She knitted her eyebrows together. ‘I was married to Harry. He was supposed to be the one person who knew me better than anyone else. The one person who respected me and what I wanted and liked over anyone else’s opinion and yet… he didn’t.’

Jackson looked at her, his brow furrowed.

‘I think I’m just starting to see that now.’ She shifted in her chair. ‘I guess I did towards the end of our marriage, and it was probably part of why I felt I had to walk away, but this is the first time I’ve really put those feelings into words, really begun to understand it. I think he watered me down… That doesn’t make sense, does it?’

Jackson nodded slowly. ‘It does. It makes perfect sense.’

‘You could see it, couldn’t you? That’s why you don’t like him.’ It was more of a statement than a question. ‘But why can’t anyone else see it? My family still talk as though they think I made the wrong decision to walk away.’

‘He’s a charmer. And he knows how to make people think as he wants them to.’ He ground his jaw.

‘Like he did with me.’ She nodded. It was true. At the beginning of their relationship, in the honeymoon period, he’d always been more than lovely towards her. It had only been the last three or four years when he’d begun to show her nothing but uninterest, indifference even. He’d never wanted to go out for adrink or for dinner, or anything for just the two of them, and yet if any of his mates asked him, he’d jumped at the chance, leaving her at home alone to watch TV and do very little else. On the rare occasions he’d asked her to go out with him, usually when all of his friends were bringing their wives and girlfriends along, then he’d pretend to be the perfect husband for a few minutes before leaving her to twiddle her thumbs and wait until he’d had enough of chatting to his mates before they went home.

In the end, she’d declined his offers, knowing full well that whether she spent the evening in some pub or restaurant surrounded by people or at home by herself, she’d feel equally lonely. But that didn’t have anything to do with her lack of self. Or did it? Had merely the fact he’d so easily pass her company up for someone else’s indicated to her that she wasn’t interesting enough, or fun enough, or anything enough? Had that added to the reason she’d stopped trying to impress him, to be interesting, that she’d simply withdrawn?

‘Are you okay?’ Jackson ran his forefinger across her cheek.

Blinking, she nodded. ‘Sorry, I was miles away. I think you’re right. He’s a charmer who likes everyone to admire him, and left me struggling for any space or support to be my own person. I can’t go back there.’

‘Why would you?’

‘I don’t mean getting back with him. I mean, back to my parents. However lame it sounds, this is my chance to rediscover myself again. To learn to, I don’t know, like myself, for who I am again.’ Yes, Jackson’s one simple comment had fuelled the drive in her to succeed, stoked her determination.

‘You should love yourself, not just like.’

She grimaced. ‘Let’s start with like, shall we? I think it’d be a far stretch to think I could love myself.’

‘Laura—’ Cupping her cheek, Jackson stared into her eyes. If she were to read anything into the way he looked at her, it wouldbe that he thought she was enough, that she was worthy, but it was herself who needed to be convinced, not him.

‘No. Don’t.’ Reaching across the table, she traced the tip of her forefinger across his soft lips. She knew he only meant well, but it actually felt good to be able to vocalise how she was feeling, to put how Harry had made her feel into words. ‘I’m fine. I just wish there was something I could do to get people to give me a chance back in Meadowfield.’

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