Page 96 of The Truth About You and Me
But he can’t have the life he needs.
Not if they stay together.
Each thought lands with razor-sharp edges.
‘Anyway. I wanted you to know that we do appreciate everything you’re doing for him. It’s funny isn’t it, how life turns on its own axis. One stranger ruins his life, another saves it.’
I pull my arm back as discreetly as I can, my throat dry. ‘Oh fuck. Maggie, I’m sorry, I?—’
‘It’s fine. I just… I need to…’
I begin walking into the house. She is calling my name but it’s swallowed by the noise of the party, my own doubts amplified by Gilly’s words screaming inside my head louder than any of the partygoers that I try to unsuccessfully avoid.
I hurry up to Charl’s room and sit down on the bed. I look to the photos on the wall, of Jack and Vicky, the engagement ring, the easy way she fits with the family. I can’t be with Jack, not in the way he needs.
We don’t fit in the real world.
We only fit outside of it.
And Jack is too wonderful, too kind, tooalive, to be living a life hiding away in the shadows with me.
I reach for my phone scrolling through my camera roll, until I find the photo I’m looking for. Me and Luke, pre-breakup, but the same night.
I examine the photo.
At least now I can give Jack the answers he needs to move on with his life when I walk away.
Because around my neck, being tugged in the sea breeze, is my red scarf.
And that night, I was on Fleetwood Road.
43
JACK
I take a beat before knocking on Charl’s door and stepping in. I need to tell Maggie how I feel.
‘Hey,’ I say. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, her phone in her hands, curls falling forwards.
‘Hi. Sorry, I… it was a bit much. I needed some space.’
I sit down beside her, and try to think of the best way to tell her how I feel without scaring her away. ‘We should have left before it got this hectic. You’ve nothing to be sorry for. Charl shouldn’t have…’
‘What, Jack?’ She meets my eyes, the green paler, more emerald than jade. ‘Shouldn’t have thrown a party to celebrate her brother’s engagement? Of course she should.’ There is a burst of laughter from the bottom of the stairs.
Her eyes go towards the door, where the laughter is dying away, more conversations filtering through.
‘Maggie, I?—’
‘I don’t fit in here, Jack… in this house, with your family.’ She looks up at me. ‘With you.’
Panic swells inside my chest. I’m trying to find the right words. But then I realise I don’t have to. I can show her.
‘May I?’ She looks down at my open hand, hesitates then folds her hand in mine.
I love you.
We both register my thoughts at the same time. I can see it flash across her face.
