Page 97 of From London, With Love

“Nothing—”

“Lara talking about your brother?—”

Harper and I speak at the same time, andof courseshe’s gone with the truth rather than a harmless ‘nothing’.

Mia casts her eyes toward me, narrowing them slightly. “Lara Jane,” she says, taking on a tone eerily reminiscent of my mother, “we’ve been over this already. I’ve had time to process this over the past few months, and I’m okay with it. Happy with it, actually. So long as you?—”

“Don’t talk about the dirty details. I know,” I finish her sentence, knowing exactly what she was about to say.

“So,” Harper begins as Mia returns with our next round of cocktails. “What do you feel when you’re around him?”?

“Way to start off easy, Harps.” From her spot on the adjacent armchair, Mia playfully kicks at the foot Harper is swinging along the carpet.

“I figure it’s best if we go straight to the guts of it,” Harper says matter of factly.

What do you feel when you look at him?Mia’s reaction makes it sound as though it should be a hard question, but it’s quite the opposite.

“Safe.” The word slips out effortlessly as though nothing had ever felt quitethisright.

Two sets of eyes shoot in my direction; one set almost identical to the man in question. All this time living with her and I’ve never noticed before now. Those eyes have burned their way into my memory as vividly as if they were my own.?

Harper pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and I swear she’s trying to hide a smile. “That was quick, Lars.” She may have only said four words, but the knowing look she gives me tells me everything she doesn’t say. I look across to Mia, sitting there with her arms wrapped around her drawn-up legs and her chin resting atop her knees, with an expression mirroring Harper’s.

“Too quick,” I respond. Despite their positive demeanours, I can’t stop the wave of discomfort washing over me.?

“I happen to think it was just right,” Mia says, her face bright. “Can you elaborate though? What is it that makes you feel safe?”

I take a moment to mull this over; how do I answer?

“I know it’s easier said than done, but you can’t look at me as his sister right now. Right now, I’m your best friend.”

The way she can read my mind so effortlessly is incredible; I’ve never felt more grateful for that skill than I do right now.

“Honestly, I don’t know if I can describe it without sounding incredibly fucking cheesy.”

“Then don’t. You could be a whole arse wheel of camembert right now, and we wouldn’t bat an eyelid.”

“Speak for yourself, Harps, I’d be running in the opposite direction.”

“Emilia!” Harper exclaims. “That’s not helpful.”

I’m doubled over in stitches before I can hear Mia’s response. These two never cease to entertain, especially during those moments when you’d least expect it.

“Oh god Lara, are you okay?” Harper’s voice sounds much closer than before, and there’s a hand on my back. “She’s shaking,” Harper continues in Mia’s direction.

“I-I—,” is all I can manage through silent laughter. I draw in a breath, straightening up. “I’m fine, I was laughing.” It’s a miracle I’m able to get the words out.?

“I think it’s hysteria,” Mia states, to which Harper hums her agreement. “Hysteria aside, we’re getting off track. Lara, you were saying?”

“Right, yes, Carter.” My fingertips swiftly find my rings, twisting them absentmindedly. “I look at him and feel the sort of safety and security I longed for as a child. I feel like the things I dreamt of when I was younger might be possible with him. But there’s a small part of me that feels fear. I wasn’t looking for something like this. I didn’t want something like this.”

From childhood until my pre-teen years, all I’d longed for was to be loved. Whenever I came across someone—particularly males—who showed me anything remotely akin to love, I attached myself to them; teachers, classmates, and sports coaches alike. But once I hit my teen years, it was like a switch had been flicked. The longing I felt had been replaced by the strong urge to push away anyone who tried to get close to me.Although I still craved that closeness, I struggled to let people in. My therapist identified it as a fearful-avoidant attachment style—apparently it’s quite common among children of divorce, especially under the circumstances of my parent’s split. Despite working on it over the years, it’s never truly gone away. Which is why it’s both confusing and unnerving that I’ve taken to Carter the way I have.

“We know.” Harper’s voice is soft, almost soothing.

“It’s bound to end in heartbreak; I can’t do that again.” I concentrate on my breathing, willing the tears to remain at bay. Too many have already been shed tonight, and I’ll be damned if I let even one more slip for a man. Even if the man is Carter.

“But what if it doesn’t? Isn’t that a risk worth taking?” This time it’s Mia who speaks. I look up at her, trying to keep the shock out of my expression.?

---