Page 94 of The Art of Loving You

‘Why not? You love her and there’s stuff you want to tell her.’

‘But I don’t … You were pausing, Libby. There were gaps in between your sentences. You … you imagine him answering you back?’

‘So? If you do your research you’ll see it’s actually recommended that the bereaved—’

‘You werelaughing, Libby. People speak to those they’ve lost to tell them how they feel, that they miss them, perhaps to share their news but you … you were laughing. Having a good time.’ Alice sniffed. ‘I can smell his aftershave again.’

‘You smell it too?’

‘Of course I bloody can.’ She stepped forward and pressed her nose into my neck. ‘You’re drenched in it.’

Was I? I couldn’t remember putting any on.

‘We’re so worried about you. We thought you’d turned a real corner with the renovation but now … You’re not yourself again, Libby.’ She placed both her arms on my shoulders and studied me before pulling me close into a hug.

It was the physical contact that undid me. I began to cry. I knew I wasn’t myself but how could I be the me before all of this happened? I was a different person then. The world was a different place. ‘I’m trying with the house but I don’t know who I am without him, Alice.’ My voice was muffled by her neck. I pulled away from her and studied my panda slippers which had seemed so funny moments ago but now just looked incredibly sad.

Alice handed me a tissue. ‘You have to accept he’s not here any more. I’ll help you. Mum will help you. This project has been too much. You look so frail. So worn out. We’re here for you.’

‘I just get the urge to talk to him sometimes.’ I wiped my eyes. ‘The way you do with your baby.’

‘But my baby is real, Libby.’ Alice’s voice was gentle. ‘We just want you to face reality. Start living again. After all, you’re not the one who died.’

I don’t know where it came from, my reaction.

She didn’t mean to be cruel. I knew that as I raised my arm.

She didn’t mean to hurt me. I knew that as I drew my shoulder back.

She loved me. I knew that as my palm cracked against her cheek and yet still I did it.

I hit another woman and not just any woman. My sister. Mypregnantsister.

That was the definitive point when I knew.

I needed help.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Ihad never hit my sister before, not once, not even as kids when she’d broken my toys or ruined my clothes.

‘Alice … I …’ I covered my mouth in horror as her cheek instantly reddened, her eyes filled with tears. I stepped forward but she stepped backwards and her palpable fear that I might strike her again was a slap to my own face. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean …’ I couldn’t stop shaking.

She gently touched the mark my palm had left with light fingertips.

‘Please … Alice … Please …’

I wasn’t sure what I was asking of her.

The thought of her telling Mum and seeing the confusion and disappointment on her face mirroring the hurt and bewilderment that was currently written all over my sister’s was unbearable. I had no right to ask her to keep it a secret and yet, still I did.

‘Please don’t tell Mum.’

‘Libby. I love you dearly but that … that … What if I’d fallen?’ She cradled her bump protectively. ‘What if you’d hurt my baby?’

‘I am so,sosorry.’ Regret slowed my blood. My heart. I could feel every single painful beat. ‘I can promise you that nothing like that will ever happen again.’

‘You can’t promise me that, Libby, because … I know me and Mum keep saying it but you’re not yourself. You’re not coping. You’ve taken on too much, too soon.’ Instead of brushing aside her concerns the way I usually did, I quietly agreed. ‘I know. I don’t know what to do.’

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