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“I’m not meaning to, but these conversations are hard.”
“Yes, they are. But like you said. Bottling these things up and letting them fester is like poison. You can’t let it rule your life forever. Sometimes I get the impression you’re happy-go-lucky because that’s what people expect of you. Am I right, Charlize?”
She shakes her head. “No. I just — I don’t like being negative, it isn’t good for me. Being the funniest or smartest person in the room is easier?—”
“Easier than what? Not letting anyone see how vulnerable you are?”
I bite my lip. “I guess. I’ve just learned to be a happy person. My troubles aren’t as bad as the next person, a lot of people have it worse off than I do.”
“That doesn’t mean your problems don’t matter, or what happened to you should get swept under the carpet. It matters, Charlize.”
My heart thuds in my chest. I’ve never thought about it like that. Never.
The concern in his eyes — does he really care about me? He’s so sincere that my heart breaks just a tiny bit. I never want to appear weak in his eyes, but I also don’t want to lie either. I’ve never had a boyfriend or partner that truly got to a deep level of understanding with me. I’ve told Alistair way more about myself than I have anyone else in my life. Mainly because he was there, he lived it, too.
“I know.”
“Do you really?”
“Yes.” I squeeze his hand. “I do. I just need time. This is really hard for me. I have no family left.” I have my two besties of course, and they’re like sisters. But the thought makes me sad.
“You have me.”
I stare into his grey eyes. When I first met him, they always looked sad, filled with pain and regret. Now they just look determined. I never saw the caring, nurturing side to him that I see now. Nothing about it is sexual.
“I know.”
He clears his throat. “I know it’s not the same, Charlize. That you wanted to be close to your mother, and I’m sure if she was equipped at raising you like she should have, she would’ve wanted that too.”
I love how he’s trying to make it better for me, but he really doesn’t have to. I’m thirty years old. I buried my demons a long time ago. My mum did her best given the circumstances, and I’ve dealt with that. My grandmother; not so much. No amount of therapy could ever erase her from my thoughts, or make me think she did what she did because she wanted what’s best for me.
“I know. She only knew what she knew. Part of her selfishness comes from her mother, I’m sure. But you don’t have to sugar coat it, Alistair. I’m a big girl now.”
He cups one side of my face. “I want to take you to the Cotswold this weekend.”
My eyes go wide. “Really?”
“Yes, have you been there?”
I shake my head. Never. But I’ve always loved the idea of it.
“I have a manor. It’s idyllic. Quiet. Cut off from the world but with modern technologies.” He smiles softly. This house means a lot to him. “It’s in a small village in Elstone, Gloucestershire. We can spend the weekend there, if you’d like.”
Why is he doing this?
“I’d really like that,” I say without hesitation. “Thank you.”
He glances down at me. “But you’re going to need some warmer clothes, and some wellies.”
My eyebrows raise. “Wellies?”
“Yes. It’s the country. And I think it’s going to rain this weekend. You need a warm coat. Hats. Gloves. Scarf.”
I have a few things in Alistair’s wardrobe, but I will have to go and pack the rest of my things if I really am going to be moving.
This is all a whirlwind. A new car. Apartment. Now a weekend in the Cotswolds. This man really is spoiling me for all other men.
“I’ll get my stylist, Emma, to meet you. She’s fantastic. You’ll like her.”
