Page 58 of Not So Happily Ever After (British Bad Boys)
“I don’t want to do medicine.”
What the fuck?Please tell me I didn’t say that out loud. Heat blazes through me, and my face is burning.
Why are you so easy to talk to?I can’t even backtrack. My brain’s frozen and my tongue’s paralyzed.Earth, swallow me now.
“You don’t?” He sounds doubtful, as though he’s not sure he heard right. “Since when?”
I close my eyes, but it doesn’t make this excruciating moment vanish. Instead, acidic guilt sears me. All I see is Mum lying in that hospital bed, as I desperately wished I could turn back time.
Why did I open my big mouth? I don’t want to talk about this.
“I never did.”Shut up, Mac. A shudder wracks me, and he slides his arm around me, holding me close. It’s like he guessed I was about to spring to my feet just to get away from him.
To get away from my memories.Like that could ever happen, no matter how far I run.
“Okay.” There’s a soft note in his voice I’ve never heard before. “It’s all right.”
It really isn’t. I’m rigid in his arms, despite the way his fingers are lightly stroking my shoulder, and there’s a suffocating rock lodged in my chest.
Keep it together.It’s been six years since Mum died. Sometimes it only seems like last week. My eyes prickle, and I blink furiously and furtively pinch my nose to stop the snuffles.For God’s sake, say something.
My brain’s flatlined.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
No. Definitely not. I haven’t told anyone about that last time I saw Mum. I’ve never wanted to. Except now, with Will’s solid warmth surrounding me, there’s a scary craving deep inside that does.
I shake my head. Let out a ragged breath. And realize my fingers are clutching his shirt.
With an effort, I loosen my grip but leave my hand against his chest.
Against the familiar, comforting, thud of his heart.
He doesn’t press me for answers, just holds me, and slowly the panicky churning in my chest subsides.
The strange thing is, I wanted to tell him years ago, when we used to share stuff the way good friends do. But I didn’t because he was Lucas’s best friend before he was mine, and it was an unspoken line in the sand I wouldn’t cross.
If I couldn’t tell my own dad and brothers about how screwed up I was, it felt almost like a betrayal to tell Will.
Stupid. But Brooklyn had my back, and I spilled out my heart to her. I didn’t need him in that way, and besides, he was a guy. And guys don’t get it the way your best girlfriend does.
But now…it’s different. I want to tell him. And more than that. I know he’ll understand. Because he, too, is going through personal stuff I’d had no clue about until recently.
It’s still hard to find the right words.Because there are no right words. Only raw, bloodied chunks of my heart that’s never fully healed.
“The last thing Mum and I said to each other…” I swallow, but it doesn’t ease the ache in my throat. “We were in Paris, getting ready for the awards night.” He knows Mum was named European Laureate for her contribution to medical research, so I don’t need to explain.
“We had a huge row.” I can’t even remember how it started, although I could guess. I was a horrible bitch to Mum when I was fifteen. My chest hurts so bad I can hardly breathe. “The thing is, everyone—including me—had taken it for granted I’d go to university and study the sciences, just because I was good at those subjects at school. But when I hit fifteen… I don’t know. I felt stifled. Like I wanted to scream.”
He doesn’t say anything, but the tender stroke of his fingers calms me in a way I can’t even explain.
I take a shuddering breath. “I never got the chance to say sorry. That’s the worst thing. All those things I said to her—I didn’t mean them. And then it was too late. She was gone.”
He rubs his jaw over the top of my head, before dropping a soft kiss on my hair. It’s so sweet and tender, tears prickle behind my eyes. “At her funeral, I made this promise to her. That I’d go to Uni, make her proud. It’s the only thing I can do.”
There’s a long silence after my confession, and my rigid muscles slowly relax. I’m not sure I believe in the soul and all that weird woo-woo stuff, but sharing with Will feels oddly…good. As though something hard and heavy has dissolved a little, deep inside my chest.
“Mac.”
