Page 34 of Forever, Maybe
“I don’t know. Guess I’ll be spending the next few days tapping up Ms Google for the answers. If only I didn’t live so far away from them!”
He gave her fingers another squeeze. “Aye, I know. Tell you what. Why no’ invite Cate and Bobby here a few days early? Then you’ll have more o’ a chance to see what Cate’s like. If they’re only here for the party, you’ll no’ see her much by herself.”
“The party’s still going ahead then? Not going to be called off at the last minute because of work demands…?”
The Murrays threw a party every year before the music festival season began. To Daniel’s credit, he’d never cancelled it, no matter how chaotic life became.
“No, swear to God.” He crossed himself with exaggerated solemnity. “It’s awfy hard for you. You’ve made so many sacrifices for me and the business over the years.” His voice was soft, almost wistful, and his dark eyes searched her face, as if pleading for forgiveness.
Forgiveness for what? For Nell choosing to settle her life in Scotland—a choice she’d made eagerly to escape Norfolk all those years ago? For working himself into the ground so they could afford a beautiful house and a comfortable life?
The idea that he might have fathered a child in some distant past felt more absurd than ever. Danny’s work consumed him entirely; there simply wasn’t room for anything else. Fidelity wasn’t something she took for granted, but she’d never doubted him.
“Not really, Danny,” she said gently, cupping his cheek. The rasp of his unshaven stubble was familiar, almost comforting. She’d always found it irresistible. “You wanted kids. I didn’t. That’s the sacrificeyoumade for me.”
“Ach, I’ve no regrets,” he replied quickly.
But his glance flickered away for the briefest moment, betraying the lie. God, he was such a good man. She didn’t deserve him.
Danny reached out, brushing his fingers against her cheek. “Are you okay otherwise? You’re awfy pale. You always are, but more so today.”
It was Sunday morning, and for once, Danny didn’t have his phone on him. Miraculously,Stuffed!didn’t require his attention today—a promise he’d made in the early hours of Friday during yet another too-familiar argument about his relentless work hours.
She could tell him. Confess everything.
The thought gnawed at her, as it had since she’d checked the White Lightning Instagram account yesterday. Beneath the celebratory posts marking the company’s twenty-year milestone, one comment stood out like a flashing neon sign:
GOD, the hangover I had the next day was EPIC, Curtice, you tosspot! Can’t imagine how YOU felt the next day. Or should that be who…?! ?? @johndraws
The profile picture for @johndraws was a black Labrador, but a quick scroll revealed the man himself. He’d been there that night too, lingering as long as she had. The comment felt pointed, as if he knew something. But he hadn’t tagged anyone, and no one had replied, except for @QueenAbi79, who echoed the epic hangover sentiment.
Nell bit her lip, the confession rising to the surface before she trampled it down again. Instead, she blurted out the first excuse that came to mind.
“God, I’m… I’m so ashamed. I was sick last night while out with Stephanie,” she said in a rush. “At my age! It’s not like I’m some silly teenager. So now, in addition to never being able to show my face at Theta Bar and Grill again, I’ll have to steer clear of Lock Down too. And I can only pray both places don’t circulate my photo to some secret Glaswegian Facebook group for pubs and restaurants, warning,‘Do NOT let this woman in.’”
So much for confessing.
Danny’s lips twitched, a small smile breaking through. “Tommo owns Lock Down,” he said, amused. “And Theta Bar and Grill. Along with half the pubs and restaurants on the south side. You might end up barred from the lot of them.”
The smiling lips straightened out once more. “Nell, I know how tired you’ve been the past wee while. And hungry. Exhaustion. Being sick like that. D’you think.” He bit down on his bottom lip. “You might be pregnant?”
What? Nell stared at him, floored by the leap he’d just made. A wild part of her wanted to laugh it off—Don’t be ridiculous! The science is clear: female fertility drops off a cliff after thirty-five. Besides, we’ve hardly done the necessary logistics for sperm to even get close to making that perilous journey up my fallopian tubes to find an ovum. Not to mention, I’ve been on the Mirena coil for what feels like an eternity.
But the way he’d saidpregnant—with so much raw longing—dissolved her urge to laugh, replacing it with a fresh wave of guilt.
“When was your last period?” Danny’s voice was soft but intense, as though sheer willpower could conjure a multiplying bundle of cells into her womb. His dark eyes bore into hers, and he reached out, gently stroking her cheek. “Wasn’t it longer than a month ago?”
She grasped his hand, wishing more than anything that she could give him what he wanted. But the weight of the secrets she’d carried for years compelled her to be truthful now.
“Danny, sweetie,” she began. “It was weeks ago, but we both know I’ve never been regular. And the inconvenient truth—though I swear this isn’t another dig about your working hours—is that we haven’t had sex since the start of the year. Unless I’ve suddenly become the Virgin Mary, I’m pretty sure I can’t get pregnant without doing the dirty.”
The joke, meant to diffuse the tension, landed like a brick. Danny pulled back, his shoulders hunching as a shadow crossed his face. His lapsed Catholicism gave him no love for the rigidity of his parents’ faith, but outright mockery of it was a no-go. Her comment had hit a nerve, and he must see it as belittling not just his hopes but something deeper.
“Forgive me,” Nell said quickly, clasping his hand again. “I shouldn’t have said that. We atheists are appalling.” She took a deep breath, her voice softening further. “And I’m truly sorry I’m not pregnant, if that’s what you secretly want.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. Danny didn’t reply immediately, but the flicker of emotion in his eyes told her he’d heard her.
His gaze fixed on the window, remaining there for a few seconds before snapping his attention back to her. “Forget it. I’m talking out my arse. But you reminded me of something I said the other night.”
