Page 71 of Kiss Me Ever After
What a loaded question. I had no idea what she knew, if Lennon had told her, or what reason she’d given Bryony for leaving early.
“Yeah, sort of,” I managed. “Can we get two coffees and some cake?”
Candace placed her hand over mine. “Oh, Justin, I’m still not drinking coffee remember?” She looked up at Bryony and flashed a winning smile. “Lemon and ginger tea for me, please. Although if there’s any chocolate cake…?”
Bryony’s smile didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Of course, coming right up.”
“Thank you for coming with me today,” began Candace. “I’m not sure I can do this all on my own.”
She blinked, eyes filling with tears. I let out a hard breath. Now was probably as good a time as any to broach the subject of what would happen after the baby arrived.
“You won’t be on your own,” I sighed. “I’m not only going to be here for you now, but I’ll be there when the baby comes.”As long as you can prove it is mine,I added silently. “We should probably talk about logistics and where we’ll live. Are you still renting the flat at the top of town?”
Candace shifted in her chair. “Yeah, I am… hang on, I need to pee again. This is one thing about pregnancy I won’t miss.” She got up and headed to the bathroom.
Bryony came back with the biggest slice of chocolate cake I’d ever seen. “Here you go.”
She turned, but I grabbed her arm, sensing an opportunity to talk to her while Candace wasn’t in earshot. “Bryony, have you spoken to Lennon recently?”
She stiffened. “No. Have you?”
I shook my head. “Do you know if she’s getting on okay in London?”
“You should probably try to ask her yourself, rather than me.” Bryony gestured to the back with her chin. “Although if you’re planning to be a family with Candace, you really need to tell Lennon.”
* * *
Later that evening,I ended up at the Old Dock with Alex. I was already several pints in and on the way to being pissed. Candace and I went around in circles for the rest of the afternoon, me trying to nail down some living arrangements and plan for parental responsibilities; her trying to avoid them. For someone who’d been so keen to make sure I knew about the baby’s existence, she was doing her damnedest to evade the subject of what happened once it was born.
“I don’t get it,” I mumbled into my beer. “She won’t talk to me about moving in.”
“Might not be a bad thing to push it though, mate,” said Alex. “Mum’s been making noises about when you’re leaving. Not that she doesn’t love you being in the house,” he added hastily.
Going back to the flat with Mum and Ted was the last thing I wanted to do. Which, in part, was why I was trying to push Candace.
“I thought she enjoyed having an extra son,” I protested. “Sonya can’t possibly want me to go.”
“She’s not the only one finding it difficult though, Justin.” Alex tore the corner off a beer mat. “Amber’s struggling having you around.”
Of course she was. As Lennon’s best friend, seeing me coming home each night banging on about the baby couldn’t be easy for Amber. Talking about the baby definitely counted as distraction tactics. If I thought too much about Lennon and how I lost her, I would lose myself.
I hated the situation I’d gotten myself into.
But I knew I didn’t want to turn out like my father and abandon my child before it was even born. If there was one thing he’d taught me, it was that I needed to be responsible and step up. However, it had happened—there was still a part of me that didn’t believe the whole accident-broken-condom story—I couldn’t run away.
Sometimes I hated how mature and conscientious I’d become.
“I’ll talk to Amber,” I said, draining the last of my fourth pint. “See if I can persuade her to come around.”
Alex raised his eyebrows. “You can try.”
I leaned back in my seat, raising my eyes to the ceiling. There were a bunch of posters papered on there, showing bands who had played there in the past. One from a couple of summers ago caught my eye, for a local band whose lead singer was an old acquaintance of mine. I remembered the gig as if it were yesterday. Lennon and Amber had come along with me and Alex. We’d had a fantastic evening, getting drunk and dancing. Me and Lennon had got close, almost close enough to kiss. Both of us wanted to, but neither of us had been brave enough to follow it through. If only things had been different then, I wouldn’t be sitting here now pining after the woman I loved more than anything.
Why had we been so stubborn? So reluctant to get involved back then?
What made this summer different?
Honestly, I knew the answer to that. Back then, Lennon had been the holiday princess, sweeping in for a few weeks, dazzling everyone, me included, with tales of her London lifestyle and her gold card. There was never any sign of it lasting long term, nothing more than a summer fling. With her change in circumstance, she seemed more approachable, vulnerable even, a side I’d never seen before.
