Page 101 of Midnight in Paris

‘And look. I don’t blame you. Or resent you. You made Tom happy and… well, I couldn’t ask for more, as his mother. I just… when I see you… it becomes overwhelming.’

Sophie nodded. ‘I know,’ she said softly.

‘And I behave appallingly. But somehow, it’s the only thing I’m capable of in that moment.’

‘Really, I do understand. Honestly.’ Sophie felt her cheeks get hot. ‘It’s all right.’

‘It’s not. And I will try harder next time. I hope there will be a next time?’ her mother-in-law asked. Almost pleadingly.

‘I’m sure there will be.’

‘Poor woman,’ Will said as Tom’s mother turned and walked back to her husband.

‘Yeah. It’s impossible to think she’ll ever be OK. Not really.’

‘But are any of us OK when we lose someone?’

They pushed their trolley on, half browsing the shelves, half simply moving forward. ‘How do you think Tom would feel about our being together?’ Sophie asked.

He looked at her. ‘Hard to say. I’d like to think we’d have his blessing.’

‘Yeah.’

They walked on a little. ‘You know, Libby told me once that she’d always thought you and I would get together one day. Right at the beginning, you know? Before I got together with Tom.’

‘She did?’

‘Yeah.’

He looked at her. ‘Well, I always did have a soft spot for you, Sophie Baker.’

She smiled. ‘Sometimes I think…’ Then she shook her head.

‘You think…?’ he prompted.

‘Well, I wonder if Tom and I had… if things hadn’t happened, whether we’d be…’ she trailed off, unable to find the right words. ‘I love Tom, loved him. But it’s… sometimes it’s easier with you. Better.’

He gave her a quick squeeze. ‘We’ll never know,’ he said. ‘Who can say how Tom might have changed, or you if you’d been with him. What might have happened. We can only really know what’s good right now.’

‘How did you become so wise?’

‘I watch a lot of TikToks – there’s some good advice on there.’

‘Sounds very lofty.’

‘Does it? Maybe I should add that I watch them when on the toilet?’

‘That sounds much more like you,’ she said, giggling.

Tom’s parents passed the end of their aisle, heading for the till, their trolley full of wine.

‘And do you?’ he asked.

‘What?’

‘Do you think things are good right now?’ he asked.

‘Oh, I’d say so,’ she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Things are pretty good right now.’

---