‘I honestly don’t know what I’ll do next,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Music is all I’ve done for nearly twenty years.’ He settled back into the couch, the new lighting splashing shadows on his face. ‘But in terms of Play On … it turns out doing that interview about it was a great idea. We’ve done some more promotion and Mav’s been inundated with people wanting to donate. We’re in the process of setting it up as a public charity and the expansion is full steam ahead.’
‘That’s great, Mo,’ Netta said with a smile. ‘And maybe a career break will be a good thing for you.’
‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘But the thing is, my work’s kind of been what’s kept me going all this time. It’s been the division between then and now, if you know what I mean.’
Netta brushed her fingers against his shoulder and his muscles tensed under her touch. She withdrew her hand. ‘You mean, what happened with your mum?’
He nodded. ‘These past few weeks have been pretty bleak.’ He smiled wanly at the floor. ‘It’s like I’ve got this huge, gaping crater inside me and, stupidly, I’m just realising now that work was what was holding me safe, you know? Stopping me from falling into it and disappearing completely.’ He paused and reached for his wine glass. ‘Telling you about Mum—’ He brought the glass to his lips and drank a quick mouthful. ‘The thing is, Iwantedto tell you about her. I felt so close to you that weekend, and I didn’t want to be fake with you. I wanted you to see me—therealme—because if you’d been feeling the way I was, I wanted it to be for real. I didn’t want you to think I was who I pretended to be.’
He tipped the rest of his wine into his mouth and held it there for a second before swallowing. ‘But after I said it out loud, something broke. It was like someone had taken a wrecking ball to some foundational thing in me and I was being taken apart, piece by piece, and I couldn’t stop it.’
‘Did you find out her cause of death?’
Mo nodded sadly. ‘Overdose.’
‘And have you told Mav about the diary? And the truth about your mum? Her addiction and … everything?’
Mo nodded. ‘I did. I told him everything. I even showed him the diary. It was hard, but he—he took it better than I thought he would.’
‘What did he say?’
‘In a nutshell? That it wasn’t my fault. I should’ve been honest with him ages ago. He thinks we should see a counsellor together. I said I’d think about it.’
‘You haven’t talked to anyone yet? On your own, I mean?’
‘I made an appointment,’ he said, twirling the stem of the empty glass between his fingers.
‘And?’
‘And I cancelled at the last minute.’
Netta pressed her fingers to her lips and nodded softly. ‘That’swhy you’re here, then.’
Mo turned to look at her, his eyes searching her face. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You wantmeto fix you.’
‘No. No.’ He shook his head. ‘That’s not why I’m here.’
‘Then why are you?’
‘Because—’ Mo took a deep breath. ‘Because I think this—you and me—is the real thing, Netta. Without you, I feel like the hole inside me is even bigger. I’m so lost, but with you I feel like I’ve got a light to guide me.’ He paused and took her hand in his. ‘I’m so, so stupidly in love with you. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. When I was with you, in London … it was the happiest I’ve ever been. You’re—’
‘Stop.’ Netta’s eyes brimmed as the truth behind his words flashed red. ‘Just stop.’ She put her wine glass on the table and stood, still wearing one Ugg boot. ‘I can’t do this,’ she said, gesturing between them. ‘You and me … in another world, we could be so perfect, but …’
Mo stood. ‘Could be?’
‘You’re not ready.’
‘But I’m here, telling you I want to be with you,’ he pleaded. ‘I’m ready, Netta.’
‘No,’ she said sadly. ‘You’re telling me youneedto be with me. It’s different. No bandaid is ever going to fix what’s inside you, Mo. Not music, not fame, not money and notme. You have to find a way to forgive yourself for what happened, or you’ll never be able to let me—oranyone—love you properly.’
‘What are you saying?’
Netta took a step towards him and placed the palm of her hand on his cheek. ‘I’m saying that even though we’ve got all the right ingredients, being together now would be like taking the cake out of the oven too early.’
Mo sighed and hung his head, his lips brushing against her forehead. She melted into him, folding herself into his body. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, clinging to her like she might vanish at any moment. ‘But I love you, Netta.’
