Page 124 of The Surrender
And I cry again, confirming what he doesn’t need confirming. Clark finds it in himself to come to me, clumsily rubbing my shoulders. “It’s a mess,” I say.
“Does he know?”
“I only just found out myself.”
“Are you going to tell him?” All eyes fall to my phone when it starts dancing around the island, Jude’s name illuminating the screen. I laugh at the irony, hitting the reject button. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“I need to think,” I say, wedging my elbows on the marble and resting my head in my hands, carrying the weight. I can’t think. My head is all over the place, nothing making sense.
“Come to my place,” Clark says, turning me on the stool to face him. “I’ll tell Mum and Dad that Rach isn’t feeling good. Have some dinner with us. Rach is sorting through some of the photos people have sent from the wedding. You can help. It’ll take your mind off things.” He gives me a sad face and wipes my eyes for me, and I nod, although I doubt there is anything in the world with the power to take my mind off this.
And I can’t very well bury my head in the sand forever.
Chapter 27
We’re five minutes into our journey—and five more missed calls from Jude—when Rachel answers Clark’s call after the third attempt. “Finally,” he breathes.
“Sorry,” she says. “I was hanging some washing out. What’s up?”
“Change of plan. I’ve got Amelia with me. She’s coming to ours for a bite.”
“What’s happened?”
I smile to myself. Of course she’d ask that. “I’ll explain over dinner,” he replies, reaching for my hand and patting it.
“But I’m already at your parents’. Your mum’s cooked, and she wants to see all these pictures.”
“You said you were hanging washing out.”
“For your mother, because she’s hard at it over the stove.”
Clark glances across the car to me, cringing, as he puts the phone on mute. “What do you want to do?”
“It’s fine,” I say, waving off his concern. “I’ll come too.” Truth is, I need a hug from my mum. She can’t know, but I need a hug. And to be surrounded by what’s familiar in a world I don’t know right now.
Clark unmutes his phone. “See you there, honey.” He takes a right and reroutes to our parents’. “So the plan is to say nothing?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I confirm, pulling out the test and looking at the result, as if to remind myself of the mess I’m in. “Not until I know how I’m handling this.” I swallow and settle back, looking out the window at thestreets passing, my eyes glazed. There’s so much to think about, and I have zero brain space at the moment. I need my mum’s home-cooked food and the usual calming chaos of my family around me.
“Okay. Well, you just take your time.”
My eyes drop to my phone in my lap when it rings again. Jude. I turn it to silent and go back to watching the world go by. “Will Grandma and Grandpa be there?” I ask, keeping my attention out the window.
“They’re always there.”
“I know. I was just checking.”
“And if anyone asks about Jude?”
Hearing his name out loud makes me flinch. “He’s working.”
“Right.”
Twenty minutes and endless loops of my thoughts later, we pull up outside Mum and Dad’s. Clark squeezes my arm as I take a deep breath, getting out of the car and walking on numb legs up the pathway.
Grandma and Grandpa are not in their usual spots when I walk into the lounge. It throws me. Frowning, I wander through to the dining room, finding them at the table. Grandpa’s swapped his paper for a pile of pictures, and Grandma has swapped her knitting needles for a pair of scissors.
“You look different,” she says as I dip and kiss her cheek.
