Promised Nights Page 6

  My stomach lurched at his suggestion, but I managed a small smile. It wasn’t excitement that coursed through me. It was anxiety at the thought of a honeymoon with Richard, a life with Richard. He was such a great guy, and I knew that I was crazy with a capital C for not swooning at his suggestion. But as much as I tried, I wasn’t as serious about our relationship as he was. I was disappointed in myself for not being able to fall for him. Part of me wondered whether I was just destined to be unhappy, or if I would choose the most difficult route to happiness and be bound for failure.

  Richard opened the passenger door for me, and I got in, getting comfortable for the long drive.

  “Have you got a busy week?” he asked as he started the engine.

  I nodded. “Yeah, quite busy. I’ve got to study for my entrance exam, so the next few weeks will be brutal.”

  He glanced at me. “Sorry. What are you talking about? What entrance exam?”

  “I told you that I was thinking about applying for an MBA program.”

  “No you didn’t. Why do you want to do that?”

  “I think it will be good. It’ll help me if I want to head up nursing in a big hospital, or . . . I don’t know. I might want a career change, to move into a more general healthcare role.” I liked the challenge that an MBA provided, and it was increasingly common for nurses to get them. As much as I enjoyed my job and the contact I had with patients, I felt there was more I could do for people if I had an opportunity to influence policy within a hospital.

  Richard didn’t respond. He just stared out of the window at the road in front of us.

  “You don’t think it’s a good idea?” I asked.

  “I didn’t think you were a career girl, that’s all.”

  What did that mean? “What’s a career girl?”

  He frowned and looked in my direction, then back at the road. “Wouldn’t you want to stay at home with your children?” he asked.

  “Well, unless you know something I don’t, I’m not pregnant. Anyway, I like working. I don’t understand how a girl with a career is a bad thing.”

  “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I think it’s great that you’ve been to university, but motherhood is the most important job you can do.”

  “Like fatherhood?”

  “Well, yes but it’s different, isn’t it?”

  “Is it?”

  “Well, apart from anything else, my earning potential is more than yours, so it makes more sense if either of us is to stay home that it would be you.”

  Were we really discussing what married life was going to be like for us? I wanted to undo the top button of my shirt to relieve the tightness around my throat, but I was wearing a V-neck and it wasn’t the collar that was creating the restriction.

  “Who knows, maybe I’ll end up earning more than you if I get my MBA.”

  “And is that what you want?”

  “What? To have a successful and rewarding career? Sure. Isn’t it what you want?”

  “I know, but do you want that more than you want to have kids and be a stay-at-home mother?”

  How were we having this conversation at the beginning of a five-hour car ride?

  “I want to have kids and a career. I guess like you do.”

  Richard nodded but didn’t reply.

  Haven had been right. Richard wasn’t the man for me. If I hadn’t known before, how he saw our future together had solidified my feelings. Ultimately, if we didn’t want the same things from life, then whether or not there was passion between us didn’t matter. It was a relief in a sense. It gave me a sensible reason for not wanting Richard. I didn’t have to worry about whether or not I was prepared to give up passion for a good guy, or that wanting someone who was my best friend, who made me laugh but also knew how to make my toes curl, was naïve and ridiculous. These were concrete compatibility issues.

  I would have to tell him. Sooner rather than later. It was clear that he was serious about us, and it wasn’t fair to keep him thinking that I was too.

  “Hey, you’ve ordered the wine, I see,” I said to Haven as I reached the table. We were meeting at one of our favorite restaurants in London. It wasn’t fancy, but the staff was friendly and the tapas amazing.

  “You look really good,” she replied.

  “Thanks.” I’d been home to change. I wanted to feel good tonight.

  “The Lake District agreed with you then?”

  I grinned. “Kind of. I always love going back, but Richard and I didn’t work out.”

  “What do you mean?” She paused just before pouring my wine. I pointed at my glass. I needed a drink.

  “I ended it with him last night. Things weren’t right.”

  “Because of the sex?”

  “Yes and no. I think the sex was just a metaphor for our lack of connection on a lot of levels. We wanted different things, and I couldn’t be myself around him; he didn’t make me laugh. I think I would have been less with him—certainly not been everything I could be.”

  “It sounds like you made the right decision. You need someone who will make you more, bring out all your colors.”

  I nodded.

  “How did he take it?” she asked.

  I wasn’t sure how he’d taken it. One minute he’d been mentioning our honeymoon and being really attentive, but he’d barely reacted at all when we’d met the next day and I told him that I didn’t think we were going to work out. “Okay, I think. Sometimes I thought he was really into me, and then other times I wasn’t sure if it was me, or the idea of me he liked. I’m going to start Internet dating, I think,” I said.

  “So this isn’t about Luke?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ending things with Richard isn’t because you still have a crush on Luke?” I looked over my shoulder to check who was around. The last thing I needed was Luke to be behind us.

  “Haven, I’ve loved your brother a long time. I’m not sure that will ever change, but he’s going to go off and have his two kids and picket fence with Emma. I’m pleased for him if that will make him happy. I just need to concentrate on what’s going to make me happy.”

  She looked surprised. “You think you love him?”

  “I know I do,” I replied.

  “I’m sorry,” Haven said as she reached for my hand. “I didn’t realize that you felt that strongly.”

  “It’s fine. I’ve had a lot of time to get used to the fact that he doesn’t feel the same way. If it hasn’t happened by now, I know it’s never going to.” I took a deep breath. “I’m not saying I’m over him, or that I ever will be. I just know I have to make my world about more than him.” Haven’s eyes were glassy with tears. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything,” I said, squeezing her hand.

  “No, I’m pleased you did. I’m sorry you haven’t felt you can talk to me about this stuff.”

  I pulled my hand away. “He’s your brother. I don’t want to make it awkward for you. Anyway, now we don’t need to talk about it again. I’m moving on. Dating Richard was good for me. I just need to find the right guy. Can we clone Jake? That would work for me.”

  “You know, with his science-y contacts and his money, that’s a real possibility. I’ll ask him. In the meantime, more wine?”

  I nodded. “Oh yeah, and he has to adore me like Jake adores you.”

  “From what you were saying, Richard adored you.”

  “I think he liked me. I guess it’s mutual adoration that I’m after.”

  “You know that Jake and I hated each other when we first met. It’s not always love at first sight.”

  “I know, but I gave Richard three months. I mean, you know by then, don’t you?”

  The more distance I had from Luke, the better. I needed to stop comparing what I had with him, what I felt for him, to whomever I dated next. Maybe practice would make perfect.

  Six

  Luke

  I wasn’t going to leave it until Emma’s deadline was up. Now I knew where we we
re going, it seemed unfair to string things out. Emma had the day off tomorrow, so I was going to tell her this evening. I’d texted her earlier in the day to suggest we talk when she got home from work, and she’d replied saying she’d be home at eight. I’d also called Haven and asked if I could spend a few days with them while I got myself sorted out.

  My heart was thundering in my chest. All the pieces were in place—I just needed to pull the trigger. I wasn’t sure if I’d be met with tears or anger. She’d been so unpredictable recently. Part of me thought that I was giving her the conclusion she was expecting, and that she would simply want me to leave. Then the other part of me feared for my man parts. I didn’t want to be Bobbitted.

  I’d packed a suitcase of things I’d need over the next few days, and I was just putting it behind the door in the spare room when I heard Emma’s keys in the lock. This was it. I had to say it quickly, get it out and then see where we went from there.

  I moved into the kitchen and pulled out two glasses from the cupboard. I’d bought a bottle of her favorite wine. Was that insensitive? Would she think I was going to propose? Shit, maybe I hadn’t thought this through. I didn’t know what the right thing was. I didn’t want her to be upset. I didn’t want her to hate me. I wanted her to see that although I loved her, I just didn’t want to marry her.

  “Hey,” she said softly as she came into the kitchen, taking off her coat. Her eyes went to the wine and the corners of her mouth twitched. Shit, she thought it was good news. Her eyes flicked to mine and she stilled. I passed her a glass of wine.

  “How was work?” I asked.

  “Fine. Someone threw up on me. You?”

  My stomach was churning and I was conscious of my bones, as if my nervousness had penetrated right to my skeleton. “Okay,” I said. She took her glass and collapsed on my sofa. I sat opposite her on the coffee table. I had to do this now, or I would lose my nerve. “I’ve thought about what you said.” Her eyes were a mixture of fear and excitement, her knuckles white with her grip on the glass. “I’ve thought of little else since you brought it up, and it’s not going to work out for us.” The churning in my stomach was near overwhelming as I searched her face for a reaction. She was very still. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “Do you need more time?” she asked in a quiet voice. It wasn’t what I’d expected her to say. “I mean, I shouldn’t have given you that deadline. If you’re not ready, I can give you more time.” Her words came more quickly and tears were forming in her eyes.

  I leaned forward and took her hand. “You were right to push me. I’d not thought about it, and I should have. I should have understood how you felt about our future together and I didn’t. I’m sorry.” I’d been selfish. I’d wanted to freeze time and live in that exact moment for the rest of my life, because if that were possible then I didn’t have to lose anything or anyone.

  After my parents died, for months, I’d kept imagining the last time I’d seen them, the last time I’d hugged them, the last time I’d told them I loved them. I wanted to remember those moments as perfect. I did it so often that the pictures in my head had become distorted, and I couldn’t separate out what really happened from what I had invented. In my own life, I’d clung to everything around me, afraid to lose anything, not questioning whether or not I really wanted those things.

  It was time to grow up and move on.

  “And you don’t want to marry me?” she asked, her voice wobbling on the word “me”. Shit, how did I make this better?

  I took her hand and squeezed it. “I love you. You are amazing. You’re bright and kind and all the things any guy would be lucky to have in a wife.” Her tears spilled over and down her cheeks.

  “But not enough for you?”

  “I just don’t want to get married. Not yet, maybe not ever. I don’t see myself with kids. You do and that’s fine. I want that for you but—”

  “I’ll wait. I can give you a year and see if you feel differently.” She sounded so sad, and I hated that I caused it.

  I shook my head. It would be easy at this point to agree to an extra year. It would keep everything just the same. But I couldn’t do that to her. I wanted her to have the future she imagined for herself, and I would never be able to give her that.

  “I won’t do that to you,” I said as I squeezed her hand. “I can’t.”

  “I don’t mind. I’ll wait. I shouldn’t have pushed—I knew you weren’t ready. Please Luke, don’t leave me.”

  A month ago, I never would have thought that we’d have this conversation. I thought we were happy. We had a relationship I enjoyed because we gave each other so much freedom. And I loved her. I really did. But now she was offering me this extra time, which I knew I couldn’t take because it wasn’t fair on her. But ultimately, I didn’t want it. I wanted to move on. The churning in my stomach was no longer about the impact this conversation was having on me but what it was doing to Emma. I was ready for a different future.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t think anything will change for me. I’m sorry,” I said.

  She took a sharp intake of breath and narrowed her eyes. “Is there someone else?”

  “Of course not.” How could she think that? “I’ve never cheated on you or anyone.”

  “Not with Ash?”

  My stomach twisted. Did she think there was something between us? My feelings about Ash and Richard had confused me, but I hadn’t reached a conclusion about why. “Not anyone.”

  She nodded. “So you’re going to move out.”

  “I’m going to stay with Haven.”

  “Right,” she said, her throat tight. “I’ll speak to my dad about getting the money together to buy you out.”

  “You know where I am. I’ll let you know if I find a place.”

  She started to cry again. I just wanted to take her in my arms and make everything better. I moved toward her and she pulled farther away.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, again. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No, I’ll call Kelly. You should go now. I really loved you, Luke.”

  I closed my eyes. “I know and I love you. I really want you to be happy.”

  I stood, headed to the guest bedroom and collected my case.

  Thank God the following day was Friday. My brain was close to a meltdown with all the adjustments and contemplations it had been doing recently. I didn’t often go drinking with colleagues, but tonight was an exception. I needed to block things out. Alcohol was the perfect treatment. I could dive into those relaxed soporific sensations and let myself drown for a bit. I could use it to block out the guilt and unease, the anxiety over what was next.

  Emma’s reaction to our breakup had been heartbreaking. Somehow I felt guilty that she wasn’t angrier with me. She had every reason to be. Unwittingly, I’d led her to believe that we could be something more. I should have been more sensitive to her.

  “Shots!” Mark, one of the other lawyers, shouted as he placed a tray of vodka in front of the group of us gathered in Chancery Bar. I couldn’t remember if this would be my fourth or fifth shot, but things were becoming pleasantly hazy.

  “Oh, just to warn you, Wendy found out you’re single,” Mark whispered.

  I shuddered. Wendy, our office manager, flirted with most of the lawyers who were single and a number of them had “experienced” her. I wasn’t about to be another one of those guys. She wasn’t my type.

  “You not interested?” Mark asked. “She’s sexy.”

  I shook my head. “Never a good idea to shit on your own doorstep.”

  That seemed to make sense to Mark, and he didn’t push it. I scanned the faces in the bar. What was my type? Emma and I had been introduced to each other at a party. She was pretty and funny and smart. I wasn’t sure I had a physical type.

  We’d been drinking for hours when our group started to thin out. I checked my watch. It wasn’t even nine. Jesus, it felt like two in the morning. I did
n’t often drink shots on an empty stomach. Perhaps it was time for me to go. But the only thing waiting for me at home was a couple that made me want to vomit, they were so in love. I pulled out my phone. What was Ashleigh doing? I could go round. We could talk. I hadn’t told her I was ending things with Emma. What would she think? I wanted to know more about how she was feeling about Richard. I wanted to know more about him, whether or not he was good enough for her. More than that, I wanted to understand why thinking about them together made me jealous.

  Seeing her suddenly became urgent.

  Ashleigh

  “The building better be on fire,” I shouted in response to the banging on my front door. Who the hell was making such noise at this time of night? It was just gone nine and I was in my PJ’s, my makeup off, watching television. It had been a perfect evening of doing nothing, and now someone was spoiling it.

  I checked the peephole and flung the door open. “What are you doing here?” I asked Luke. “Are you drunk?” He squinted as if he was finding it difficult to focus.

  “Yup. I really need some water.”

  I rolled my eyes and stomped off to the kitchen. The door closed behind him as he trailed after me. “It’s late, Luke. Why are you here?”

  “Shit.” He stood up really straight. “Sorry. Is Richard here?”

  I ran the cold tap and filled a glass full of water. Haven obviously hadn’t told him about our breakup. I shook my head. He smiled and headed over to my sofa where he collapsed. “Do you have snacks?” he asked. “Maybe something with cheese?”

  “You realize there are plenty of fast food restaurants that you can go to when you’re drunk that will feed you carbs and water. There’s no need for you to come to me.” How was I going to keep my distance from him if he kept following me?

  Luke groaned. “Stop complaining, Ash. You love looking after people. That’s why you do what you do.”