Page 21 of The Life We Almost Had

‘Even if it might not seem that way. I do what I think is right.’

‘Mum. Everything you do is right. Please try not to worry.’ There had been a shift in our relationship ever since we lost Dad. Often I was the one to offer reassurances. Advice. I was the daughter, the parent, the friend, the adult and the child. Everything.

We pulled up outside the house. I started to climb out of the car.

‘Wait.’ Mum gripped my arm. ‘I’ve left my mobile at Nan’s.’

‘Do you have to fetch it tonight?’ It was a silly question. Nan might need her. Call her. I began to tug the seatbelt back across my body.

‘No point you coming with me,’ Mum said. ‘Go in and have a bath or something.’

‘It’s okay. I’ll keep you company.’

‘No, Anna.’ That sharp tone again. She couldn’t look me in the eye. ‘Go inside.’

Worried, I did as I was told, clearly the child again, trying not to read too much into it. We all needed space sometimes but it felt like everyone needed space from me right now: Mum, Adam.

I slipped my key into the lock and pushed open the front door. The hallway smelled of garlic and I cast my mind back to last night, trying to remember what we’d eaten. Mentally scanning the contents of the fridge, wondering if I could pull together some sort of meal before Mum came home. Exhausted, I kicked off my shoes and padded barefoot into the kitchen.

And there he was.

Adam.

Candles flickering on the table. A vase of pale pink roses set between Mum’s best china plates.

He stepped towards me and I took a step backwards. He’d ignored me for days and now…this. Whateverthiswas.

‘I don’t… I… How did you…’ I licked my dry lips. I’d lost the fundamental ability to speak.

‘Your mum left me a key.’ He wiped his hands down the front of his apron. He seemed nervous.

‘She’ll be back in a minute.’ My eyes scanned the two placemats.

‘No, she won’t. She’s staying at your nan’s tonight.’

‘Why?’

‘To give us time. To talk. I’ve made paella. I measured out the rice and everything. I’m afraid it’s lemon meringue pie for dessert though. Limoncello and plum tart was a bit beyond my limited capability.’ He flashed a smile but I didn’t return it. He’d hurt me and I felt betrayed by both him and Mum, going behind my back like this.

He pulled out a chair, its legs scraping against the kitchen floor, and gestured at me to sit. I sank heavily onto its wooden seat, automatically taking a drink from the glass he pushed into my hand. Sangria, of course. I set it down and filled a glass with water instead.

Wordlessly he served up the food. Vibrant yellow rice and pale pink prawns. I took a mouthful but it stuck in my throat along with all the questions I wanted to ask. I set down my fork and he did the same.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

My chest tightened. What was he sorry for? Ignoring me? Or something else. There had to be a reason he’d been rejecting my calls. He spoke.

‘I can’t keep doing this. This travelling back and forth. Snatching time when we can. The lack of our own space.’

I’d been expecting something like this. Steeling myself for it, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

‘I’ve been offered a job. A travel consultant. I’d be travelling for months initially, but after that I’d be away regularly. There’s a decent salary. All expenses paid.’

There was so much I could have said, but I couldn’t say any of it. If I talked, I would cry and I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to ruin this for him. This was Adam’s dream and I needed to support it, support him, even if I wasn’t sure if this meal was a ‘goodbye’ or a ‘will you wait for me’.

‘It wasn’t a decision I took lightly. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but…’

I nodded that I understood. His eyes met mine and his were full of tears too. This wasn’t easy for him either.

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