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“Because I loved you, and I thought you would remember that you loved me, too,” she said simply. “None of which is relevant anymore.” She straightened, and her face was wiped of emotion. “I’d like you to go now.”
He stared at her, the world spinning way too fast. “No.”
“What about nail polish?” Sylvie appeared at the door now, holding a bag of cosmetics.
Addie pulled herself together, flashing her mother an encouraging smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “They’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? I think the letter said something about it…”
“No, mum. Nail polish is fine,” Addie promised her mother with a small nod. “No phones. No alcohol. No scissors.”
“I thought…”
“It’s fine,” Addie’s voice was terse. She softened it with a smile. “I’ll come help you in a minute, okay? Guy’s just about to leave.”
“Oh, very good, dear. Nice to meet you.” Sylvie said as she disappeared from the room.
“Where is your mother going?” He pushed, moving closer.
Adeline drained her tea and then placed the cup in the sink. She stared at the garden once more, a complex knot of emotions chasing themselves over her face.
“She’s going to a rehab facility,” she said after a heavy pause.
“Rehab?” Surprise burst inside him. “She’s an alcoholic?”
“No.” Her eyes were heavy with feelings. She looked up at him, and then looked through him. “Please leave.”
“I want to know,” he said, lifting his hands to his forearms. “I want … to help.”
The sob that bubbled out of her cut through him like a shard of glass. “It’s too late to help.”
“I don’t believe that,” he shook his head, speaking gently. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Addie’s voice quivered with her sadness. “Guy, there’s no need. I’ve fixed this. I’ve worked it out.”
“By selling your house?” He demanded, his tone soft even when there was urgency in his words. “Why? Why did you need the money?” His mind moved over the information he had, and found there wasn’t enough to connect the dots. Unless the rehab facility was incredibly expensive? “Is it the cost of the programme she’s going into? Is that why you needed the money?” He hoped she would say no. He wasn’t sure he could handle the guilt of that revelation. To know that was why she’d come to him and he’d used her desperation to manouever her into his bed.
“Not really.” She swallowed, and then sighed, as if mentally accepting that the only way to get rid of Guy was to be honest. “Mum has a gambling problem.” She kept her eyes lowered. “It started after they died.” A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped at it, a small groan of impatience. “Just a flutter, at first, but before long, it was high-stakes. The house, which my parents had owned outright, had to be mortgaged.” She pulled away from him, and continued speaking in an almost robotic voice, as if forcibly keeping her emotions at bay.
“I didn’t know.” She lifted her shoulders. “I mean, all through high school, I didn’t know. I only found out a week before I was meant to go to Bristol, to study.”
He nodded. So that part had been true, about her winning a scholarship to study drama.
“It would have been my first time living away from home,” she said softly. “I wanted to apply for a small credit card, just for emergencies.”
“Of course,” he murmured, not willing to risk saying anything else in case it stalled her.
“My application was rejected because of my poor credit history.”
“What?” He stared at her in confusion.
“It wasn’t her fault,” Addie was instantly defensive. “She has a problem. An addiction. It’s a real thing. It’s not a choice, it’s a disease.” Her glare was a warning not to be critical of the mother she clearly adored.
“She borrowed in your name?” He clarified, needing to understand exactly what he was dealing with.
“As soon as I turned eighteen, she took out a line of credit. She maxed it within a week,” Addie winced.
“Hell.” Guy hadn’t, in a million years, thought any of this to be the case. But how could he have? He hadn’t thought beyond his own prejudices and resentments; he hadn’t given her even the smallest chance to explain.
