Page 120 of A Recipe for Love
‘I couldn’t make it work.’
‘Look.’ Her nan stood up and got a second bottle of wine from the fridge. ‘I can’t tell you what to do. If you really think this thing is over and you’d rather walk away that’s your decision.’
‘Yeah. It is.’
‘But I am going to make you hear me out. You told this chap you were going to marry him.’
‘It was a holiday romance.’
‘Shhh.’ Her grandma snapped her fingers together in a ‘button it sunshine’ gesture. ‘I’m not done. You told him you were going to marry him. That’s a commitment. And that means that it’s not about trying to make it work. It’s about dealing with whatever happens regardless of whether it works out like you pictured it or not.’
Bella knew better than to talk back to her nan, but she’d had enough of being lectured from Veronica. ‘I’m not taking romance advice from you,’ she muttered.
‘Very wise.’ Her nan nodded. ‘But I’m not talking about romance. I’m talking about a commitment. Like I made to you.’ She reached out and touched Bella’s cheek. ‘I was fifty when your mam first left you with me. I wasn’t looking to raise another baby, but I loved you with every bit of me and I committed to making it work, to being the person who would never leave you struggling. That was my promise. When you said yes to this posh lad’s proposal, that was yours. If you’d actually gone down the aisle with him you’d have signed up to sickness and health and better or worse, wouldn’t you?’
‘I guess.’
‘And he does one, admittedly huge, screwed-up thing a few weeks after he’s lost his dad and you decide he’s given up on you.’
‘He didn’t even talk to me about it.’
‘I hear that.’ Bella’s nan narrowed her eyes. ‘What else is there?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Really?’
Well, there was the thing that had been sitting deep in Bella’s gut since the very moment she walked away from Lowbridge. Bella closed her eyes.
‘Tell me.’
‘I think maybe I got caught up in the estate and the village and all the things we could do.’
‘And?’
‘And, before I went he kind of said I was more in love with Lowbridge than with him.’
Her grandmother nodded. ‘And was he right?’
‘No.’ The certainty of Bella’s answer crystallised something inside her. ‘No. I love him.’
‘What about him?’
‘I love how good he is with his hands.’
Her nan shook her head. ‘I don’t think I need those sorts of details.’
‘No. I mean, he’s practical. He’s a gardener, and he can just sort of look at a plant or a piece of land and know what it needs. He nurtures things.’ Bella shook her head. ‘That sounds silly.’
‘Not at all.’
‘And he thinks about things. Too much probably, but he doesn’t just rush in. He weighs things and he worries about letting people down.’
Her grandmother placed her hand over Bella’s. ‘It sounds as though deciding to sell would have been really difficult for someone like that.’
‘That’s what I don’t understand.’
‘So maybe if you talked to him?’
