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‘You do good, Thirio. A lot of good.’
Silence crackled around them. She yawned, though she wasn’t tired. Her mind was wired, even if her body wanted to sleep.
‘I do what I think they would want me to. I try to live up to the person they wish I’d been.’
Her heart shattered for him. His pain was so intense.
‘“If only” is the most useless phrase in the world, Thirio.’ She stroked his chest tenderly. ‘You can’t go back in time and follow a different course.’
‘I know that.’ The words were ripped from him.
‘But all the things you’ve just told me about your parents, that’s what you need to think about. Remember how much they loved you, even when they didn’t agree with you. Remember how your mother tried to fight to get you to find your potential, and how your father tolerated and supported the phase you were in. They adored you, Thirio. If they were here, they’d put their arms around you and hug you and tell you that it’s okay, that they forgive you, and want you to be happy. For them, for Evie, for everyone who’s ever cared about you.’ Her voice cracked and her own heart gave a little stumble, as feelings she couldn’t decipher jumbled through her. Suddenly, her own fate seemed tied to his happiness. This was a temporary union, and yet she couldn’t imagine going back to her life and leaving him here, carrying this weight all on his own.
She couldn’t imagine leaving him at all.
The sun crested higher, dousing the valley in gold, spreading light across the land just as her heart finally woke up and made itself heard.
Lucinda had sworn she’d never love another person in her life. The fear of rejection was paralysing, and had made it impossible. She’dchosento be alone, without realising that love wasn’t really something you had any say in. By spending time with Thirio, she’d opened the door to a world that was inevitable, from the moment they’d met.
She loved him.
But shecouldn’t. She must be mistaken. It was sympathy that was tearing her apart, making her pulse race and her heart thump. It was grief for him, that was all. Once she was back in London, she’d feel differently. Then, everything would be normal.
The cost of loving someone like Thirio would be way too high for Lucinda. She closed her eyes, shutting out the world, Thirio and, most of all, her awakening feelings, simply trusting that things would be different and better when she woke.
After his parents’ deaths, he’d been urged to speak to therapists, counsellors, psychologists. He’d been urged totalk about it, as though saying how wrong he’d been, over and over, would help at all. He’d never taken that advice. He hadn’t wanted to speak to anyone about his complicity in the accident. He hadn’t wanted to feel better.
His conversation with Lucinda was a first, and yet, strangely, he didn’t regret it. Somehow, it was right that she should know about this part of him. He couldn’t explain why, but he suspected it had something to do with the way she looked at him. As though he were perfect.
When he wasn’t, and he needed her to know that. He didn’t want her to think he was some kind of hero after what he’d done. He didn’t deserve the admiration or respect of anyone, let alone a person as wonderful and decent as Lucinda.
He was glad she was leaving today, even when he acknowledged that her departure would be a wrench. In the space of a few short days, he had become used to her presence. He’d liked not being alone. He’d liked knowing she was working in the office he’d made for her. He’d liked walking past and hearing her hum or her fingers clicking over the keyboard.
But it was a fantasy, and now, it was time to get back to reality.
He flicked the coffee machine to life, lining up two cups as he looked out at the same view he’d been staring at for years. There was something about the age of the forest that comforted him. Hundreds of years of growth, these trees had weathered everything, and they’d seen much. Death, destruction, grief, loss. They were the witnesses to humanity’s failings, and its successes. His own grief would seem inconsequential to the forest.
But it wasn’t to Thirio. Nor was his guilt. Absent-mindedly, he ran his fingers over his chest, feeling the knotted flesh beneath his shirt, the gesture one he did often, reminding himself of his failings.
He needed that reminder particularly this morning, when the pleasures of this weekend threatened to blank out the pain he deserved to feel.
‘Good morning.’ Lucinda’s voice was soft and croaky as she padded into the kitchen behind him. Thirio turned, and his whole body exploded in an unwelcome, automatic response to her appearance. She was so beautiful and so sexy. Her hair was dishevelled about her heart-shaped face, and she wore a shirt of his, long and oversized, only the three middle buttons done up so his eyes dropped to the swell of her cleavage first then the sweep of her shapely legs next. But it wasn’t just desire that was making his heart hop and skip. It was the look in her eyes.
As if he were perfect.
Even after what he’d told her.
Even after what he’d done.
He ground his teeth together, instinctively pushing away her kindness and acceptance. He didn’t deserve either.
‘Coffee?’ His tone was brusque and before he turned back to the machine he saw the hurt that lined her eyes and wanted to fix it, to take back the rough question.
‘Oh.’ The soft sound of disappointment tightened something in his gut. But he told himself he was glad. He wasn’t perfect and she needed to understand that. ‘Yes, please. What time is it?’
‘Eleven.’
‘Eleven?’ She moaned. ‘Why did you let me sleep so late? I have to leave soon.’
