Page 172 of When We Were Young

‘Night,’ I say.

In my room, I take a few deep breaths to steady my heartbeat. I change into my nightdress, brush my teeth, and climb into bed when there’s a knock at the door.

‘Hello?’ I call through the door.

‘It’s me.’

I open the door a little. Scott stands there looking apologetic. ‘Can I come in?’

This time when we kiss, he tastes of toothpaste.

I undo each button on his shirt with trembling fingers, my breaths coming fast and shallow. He steps out of his jeans and shorts, and lifts my nightdress up and over my head. I haven’t seen him naked for years. Never had the chance to look, anyway. He’s lean and tanned. I take his hand and lead him to the bed. He lies down beside me, his eyes exploring my body, but I’m not self-conscious.

He brushes my hair from my shoulder. He runs his fingertips along the length of my collarbone, touches the curve of my breast and traces a line down to my navel. I hold my breath as he runs his thumb along the line of my caesarean scar. I know he doesn’t see it as ugly, what it means to us both.

I lean in and kiss him, the tips of our tongues dancing around each other.

He takes hold of my hip and rolls me onto my back.

He trails his fingertips slowly up my inner thigh and by the time I feel his tongue on me, I’m desperate for it. I wind my fingers into his hair. With every stroke of his tongue, I open my legs wider, arch my back a little more, until my muscles tremble with the effort.

And just when I’m about to come, he stops.

A little whimper escapes from my lips.

He scoots up the bed, presses his body against mine. My breath catches in my throat as he pushes into me. The slow back and forth of him takes me to the edge of everything.When I come, the sensation ripples through me; he moves his hips in slow circles, making it last forever. He’s not far behind me. He closes his eyes and makes a quiet noise, like a sigh. I’ve never felt this close to him. He’s lost inside himself and me.

He rolls onto his back, spreadeagled. His chest rising and falling. He looks at me, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. I must be wearing a similar expression.

‘That was nice,’ he says.

‘Better than nice.’

He lays his arm out in invitation, and I move into the space he’s created, my head on his chest. He folds his arm over me. I listen to his breathing and heartbeat slowing. I lie there, knowing I don’t have to rush away. This is my room, my bed. He came to me. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. We don’t have to pretend it never happened.

We share a bed, just the two of us, the whole night, for the first time in more than sixteen years.

And I dare to hope it won’t be the last.

Chapter 81

July 2016

Liv

I have been sending Chloe a funny cat video every day. I gave up on sending messages pleading for forgiveness weeks ago. Lately, it’s kittens: being cute, falling over, thinking they can jump further than they can, discovering they have a tail. One every single day. And I’m making progress because Chloe didn’t even open my previous messages, but the cat videos get two blue ticks every time. I’m aiming straight for the heart – kittens are irresistible.

But she never replies, and it’s been three days since she received the photo book.

I miss her.

Before I head off toAmplify, I send my usual cat video. Today’s is a kitten climbing up its owner to steal food from the kitchen counter. Two minutes later, my phone pings. She’s replied! There, at the bottom of a long string of videos, sits a single emoji – the crying-laughing face. I’m so happy I practically skip to the station. As I wait on the platform, I send another message:How are you?

She doesn’t reply, so by the time I get to theAmplifyoffice, I’m convinced the emoji she sent earlier must have been a mistake.

But when I check my phone at lunchtime, there’s a message.

Chloe:We should talk.