Page 34 of The Life Experiment
‘Well, well, well,’ Peter said, unable to hide his smile. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in one of those. You’ve always seemed capable on that front. With the short-term kind of love, at least. So, who is she? She must be special to have you in such a tangle.’
‘Her name is Layla.’
A wave of vulnerability swept over Angus. Up until now, Layla almost felt like a figment of his imagination. The fact that they’d only met in person once added to the sense of intrigue. What they shared was too incredible to spoil with reality. When he talked to her, Angus wasn’t Angus Fairview-Whitley, but the person he wanted to be.
Maybe it was because Angus had tweaked details about himself here and there. Nothing big, but big enough. Angus had said he lived in London but hadn’t gone so far as to say that he lived in a multi-million-pound penthouse. Angus had said he liked to travel, but he hadn’t quite admitted to having unlimited funds to do so.
The core of what you’ve said is the truth, his brain pointed out. It was the only way Angus could calm his nerves.
Things with Layla were so magical, he didn’t want reality to taint them with his failures. He didn’t want to admit to bad investments and the ever-present ache of loneliness. Their relationship was a fantasy land Angus could escape to, fuelled by instant attraction and a good phone network.
But now that Angus had told Peter about Layla, his two worlds were colliding.
‘And what does Layla do?’ Peter asked, after taking a long gulp of his drink.
‘She’s a lawyer.’
The answer earned an impressed nod from Peter. ‘Smart, then.’
‘Very. Too smart for me,’ Angus joked, but he wondered if it could be called a joke if it was the truth.
‘Don’t put yourself down, son. You have more to offer than you think. You’ve just got to find the thing that makes you tick.’
‘Any idea what that might be?’ Angus asked, grimacing into his glass.
‘That’s for you to figure out. Besides, I’m not someone you shouldtake advice from, especially on the dating front. I wouldn’t exactly call myself husband of the year.’ With those words, Peter closed his eyes.
Angus frowned, studying his father. ‘Are you okay?’
Opening one eye, Peter settled his gaze on his son. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
Peter’s tone was sharper than Angus expected, cutting him down to size. ‘You don’t talk about your marriage usually, that’s all,’ he mumbled while staring into his drink.
‘Yes, well, there’s a lot we don’t speak about in this house,’ Peter said, draining his glass.
Angus’s frown deepened, but he didn’t have time to ask his father what he meant. Peter leaned forward to set his glass down on the coffee table, but missed his target. The glass fell to the floor, splashing whisky onto Gilly’s prized cream rug.
‘Uh-oh,’ Peter sang, his voice wobbly and strange.
There was something about seeing his father so out of sorts that unsettled Angus. He had only seen Peter this way once before, and that was after Hugo’s death.
‘Maybe you should go to bed,’ Angus suggested.
‘Maybe I should.’ Peter paused for a moment before standing. His body swayed slightly, then he flashed Angus a sad smile. ‘Is Layla someone special?’ he asked.
Though he was taken aback by the question, Angus nodded. ‘She is.’
‘In that case – hold onto her tight and never let her forget how much she means to you. Ever.’
With those parting words, Peter began to walk away in small, unsteady steps. Angus watched him go, too surprised to speak.
‘Goodnight, Angus,’ Peter called over his shoulder.
Before Peter reached the living room door, Angus called out to him.
Stopping, Peter turned around. ‘Yes, son?’
‘Do me a favour and don’t tell Mother about Layla, will you? I don’t think she’d understand.’
