Page 58 of Riding the Waves

“I made a pot,” he told her from the kitchen table. “I thought you might need caffeine.”

“Yes.” She grabbed a mug, choosing not to dwell on the reason she desperately needed caffeine.

“I wanted to give you the house.”

The shock of Anthony’s words made Amy’s hand unsteady and she splashed hot coffee onto her finger.

“What?” She shook the drips from her index finger and stuck it in her mouth.

“I was thinking about how we should split everything for the divorce and I thought it would make sense for you to have the house.”

“I can’t afford to buy you out. You know that. Even if I could, I wouldn’t manage the mortgage repayments on my own.”

“I’m not saying you should buy me out. You can just have it. Take my share of the house and the furniture. Everything else we’ll split, bank accounts and whatever.”

Slumping against the sideboard, Amy put a hand across her eyes and massaged her temples.

“It makes sense,” he went on. “It’s the only home the boys have ever known. I don’t want to oust you from it.”

Amy tried to speak but he cut her off.

“Obviously, I’m assuming you want to stay in Oxford. But maybe you don’t. Maybe you and Damian have other plans.” His voice was flat, but not bitter. Just matter of fact.

“Damian and I don’t have any plans. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Anthony bowed his head and stared at his coffee. “I guess I just need you to know that however things play out I want things to be amicable. If you want to stay in the house, you can.”

“I can’t,” she said, joining him at the table. “Even if you gave me the house – which I couldn’t let you – I still couldn’t manage the mortgage payments alone.” She wouldn’t even want to try, she realised in a flash of clarity. No matter what happened, she didn’t want to stay in the house where she’d never truly been happy. Even if her future didn’t involve Damian, she needed a fresh start.

“You could use the money Damian gives you,” Anthony said, tilting his head. “You could easily make the payments then.”

She pressed the space between her eyebrows, thinking of the money Damian had insisted on giving her for the boys. Since she hadn’t needed it and hadn’t felt entitled to it, she’d never touched it, just left it in a savings account, intending to pass it onto the boys eventually.

It was a decent amount too, he’d never just given it as a token gesture. No matter how many times she’d told Damian she didn’t need it he’d always insisted. Anthony had pointed out that it was probably a point of pride and she should accept it gracefully, which she had in the end, but never without a sprinkling of guilt. After all, it hadn’t been his choice not to live with his children. She’d taken his choice away.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she said, registering that Anthony was waiting for her to respond.

“The boys will be back in school in three weeks so I guess you won’t be making any big changes soon. I only wanted you to know that you can stay in the house if you want to. And if you want to move, there’s no rush. I want things to be as easy as possible for the boys.” He flashed a nervous smile. “And I’d really like to continue to see them as often as possible.”

Amy’s gaze snapped up to meet his. “Is that what this is about? You’re trying to bribe me with the house because you’re worried I won’t let you see the boys otherwise?”

“No.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “That’s not why I want you to have the house, but I am very aware of the fact that I have no legal right to see Billy and Marty.”

Amy couldn’t even be sure if that was true. He was their stepdad and had raised them since they were six months old. It didn’t seem fair that he wouldn’t have any rights. “I’d never stop you from seeing them,” she said, holding back tears. “I wouldn’t do that to you or to them. And I’d like to think you know that.”

“Who knows what’s going to happen,” he said.

A headache threatened behind Amy’s eyes and she pressed her palm to her forehead. “I wish you’d shout at me,” she said.

“What?”

“Sometimes I can’t help but think I’d feel better if you’d shout at me. After all I’ve put you through, you’re still so bloody nice to me.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Why not shout at me and tell me what a horrible person I am?”

“Because you’re not a horrible person. Far from it.”

She dipped her chin to her chest, cradling her head in her hands and wondering how on earth he didn’t hate her guts.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” he asked after a brief silence.

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