Page 15 of Into the Dark

I feel lighter. The relief of having performed the piece, the effects of the champagne, the warmth that comes from laughing—all of it—it’s made me feel lighter than I have in weeks. I still miss him. Painfully so. And the champagne is having a secondary effect too. It’s playing with my doubts, erasing them somewhat, making me feel bold and brave. Making me wonder what he’d do if I called. If I asked him to come here. Making me wonder too what would happen if I took a taxi back to the city and turned up at his apartment. My body tingles and heats, aroused by the very idea of having his hands on me again. Of having my hands on him. Of feeling him inside me, that cold, dark, empty part of me lit up from him again.

Rob doesn’t reappear, and the girls and I chat for a bit longer, man-spotting and reliving some of the hen-night memories, before I excuse myself to go find my parents. They don’t normally hang around these kinds of occasions too long and I don’t want to miss them leave.

As I move through the room, I have this sense I’m being looked at, and I skirt my gaze left and right to try to find the source. Instead, I spot my parents across the other side of the dance floor and begin to move toward them, depositing my empty champagne glass on a tray as I go.

The source suddenly appears in front of me, tall and broad and dressed in a smart gray morning suit that matches the groom’s.

“Hey, I was looking for you,” Mark says with a smile. It’s that odd smile again. The “I’m really sorry the man you loved turned out to be a criminal” smile.

With a deep breath, I lift my head to look up at him. “I was just going to see off my parents,” I say, looking past him to my mum and dad. Mum is watching us now with a look I don’t like. Encouraging, I’d call it.

“They’re leaving already?” he asks, looking over his shoulder. “I’d love to say hello.”

“Why? So you can tell them how terrible you think their daughter’s taste in men is?”

He looks a little hurt, and I feel a small flurry of joy at it. “You know I don’t think that. You saw what he wanted you to see. You were lied to. Men like him…”

“Don’t talk about him as though you know him, Mark. Because I assure you, you don’t.”

I expect some bite back, some sharp retort along the lines of “neither do you,” but it doesn’t come. Instead, he just gives me this weary sort of smile.

“Sorry,” he says. And it sounds genuine. “I never wanted…”

“To hurt me, yes, I know.” And I suppose somewhere deep down I do know that.

He says nothing for a few seconds before he says, “You look really beautiful, by the way. You’ve given Rob a run for her money today. And the piano…wow. That was incredible.” He smiles. Genuine again.

I don’t know what to say to all that, so I just smile awkwardly and look over at my parents again. Being alone with him, just the two of us, reminds me of things I don’t want to be reminded of. It makes me think of things I don’t want to think about. It’s a bond we have, I suppose. Because in a way, he’s the only person who understands. Because he’s the only person who knows the truth.

“Dance with me?” he says, taking me by surprise.

I want to say no. I want to walk away from him and leave him standing here alone. But because people are looking at us, and because I don’t want to be impolite, and because of our stupid bond, I feel myself step into his arms. The music is slow and soulful—Al Green, I think—and we sway together gently. He steps in closer and presses his face to my hair, close to my ear.

“I know you blame me completely for what happened,” he says. “But I was doing what I thought was the right thing, Alex. Because I care about you. Because I—”

Not wanting to hear anymore, I pull back to frown at him. “And what do you think now? Do you still think you did the right thing?” We’re still half-dancing, swaying side to side, but now I’m frowning at up at him as we move.

“If you’re asking if I’d do the same thing again, then yes, I would.” He looks utterly certain. “I don’t think you belong with a guy like him. ‘

I laugh a little, and Mark’s eyes cloud with confusion. “It’s funny because you and Jake have that in common. He never thought he belonged with me either.”

It occurs to me then that Mark is also the only person who can tell me anything about Jake—if he’s okay, if he’s been arrested, if he’s alive. I want to ask him what he knows, but at the same time I don’t want to talk about Jake with him. Probably because I’m afraid of what he might tell me. I get an image of us then, of what we must look like to people, like a couple maybe, and I don’t like it. I step out of his hold.

“I need to go speak to my parents before they leave,” I tell him. I go to move but stop and look back up at him. “And to answer your question, no, I don’t blame you for what happened. I blame myself. For everything.” I blame myself for being naïve and stupid. For not being strong enough, brave enough. All of it was my own fault.

He stares after me as I make my way across the dance floor to where my parents are. The look on Mum’s face as I approach tells me she also thinks Mark and I looked like a couple.

“That’s Daniel’s brother?” she asks, looking over my shoulder at him. “The one who got divorced. The policeman.”

“Yes. I’m guessing you guys are going soon?” I change the subject.

Mum doesn’t answer; she’s distracted by Mark, and I glance behind me to see Becca and the girls chatting to him now. He turns his head in my direction and gives me a long look. Knowing and conspiratorial, of course, because we have a bond.

“I think he likes you, sweetheart. He’s handsome too,” Mum decides. “You looked nice together, dancing. And you played so well earlier. We’re so proud of you.”

I ignore the comment about Mark. “Well, at least now you know all that money you spent on lessons wasn’t completely wasted.” I smile at Dad.

“Our return on investment came through finally.” He beams. “You looked totally in control. I couldn’t see a trace of nerves, Alex. Well done.” Dad puts and arm around me to pull me into a hug. “And yes, we’re leaving shortly. It’s about an hour and a half’s drive home, and you know your mother hates driving in the dark, so it will be another hour on top of that at her night pace.” He winks at me as Mum rolls her eyes.

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