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This has the signs of an intervention written all over it, and maybe I should have warned her. But if I had, she wouldn’t have come. And I’m not so sure I owe her a warning, anyway. After all, she’s the one who sprang a massive surprise on me last time. I don’t mean the fact that she has alopecia, but the fact she shared it with the world at the same time as me, thus denying me the chance to protect her.
Then she made me promise not to intervene on her behalf, either. She tied my hands, so I wouldn’t be able to protect her. Of course, the response to what she did was overwhelmingly positive—so that last part didn’t matter. But it could have gone the other way. She could have been subjected to cyber-bullying, and I wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it… Okay, maybe that’s not true.
If things had gone pear-shaped, I’d have insisted Karina help me defuse the situation and protect her. And if she’d refused, I’d have gone to someone else who was willing to help me. But it hadn’t come to that, and I’m thankful. I’ve been monitoring her feed though, just to be sure.
And yes, I’ve also been tracking her phone, just so I know she’s safe. So maybe that’s not strictly ethical, but it’s not like she doesn’t know. Plus, I’ve always played by my own rules, especially when it comes to her protection.
She did the most courageous thing possible in revealing her true self to the world. I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for her to do so. If I could, I’d share her pain. And if she’d let me, I’d be by her side as she goes through such a tumultuous phase of her life. But she told me she wants to do this on her own. And I respect that. Doesn’t mean I can’t do my bit to show solidarity for her.
I reach the door, but before I can ring the bell, it’s flung open.
Nadine stands in the doorway. "How wonderful to see you, I…" She looks at me and her voice trails off. "Liam—" She swallows, then a tear runs down her cheek. "You’re a wonderful husband."
"You mean, I have a wonderful wife, don’t you?"
"That, too." She grabs my arm and pulls me in. "Come on in."
She hooks her arm through mine and walks me toward the living room. "I wish Isla had confided in me. I wish she’d told us what she was going through all these years."
"It couldn’t have been easy for her to come to terms with it.” I pat Nadine’s arm. “She didn’t want anyone to pity her, you know."
"But we’re her family. We’d have stood by her. We’d have supported her."
"Maybe that’s what she was afraid of. She wanted to deal with it in her own way, you know?"
She looks up at me. "You really understand her, don’t you?"
"I try."
"She’s always been so independent. Always wanted her own space growing up. Even when she was very little, she wanted to do things by herself. She wanted to eat on her own, go to school on her own… I had to explain to her when she was still very little that she could walk to school on her own when she was a little older. And after her father died, she became even more remote." She swallows. "Maybe it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let her drop out of college and travel. I should have insisted that she stay closer. Of course, she was already eighteen by then, so she could do what she wanted. But maybe if I had been more determined, she’d have listened, you know?"
I pat her arm. "You shouldn’t blame yourself. From what I can see, you’ve been a wonderful mother, and Isla loves you and respects you."
She blinks away her tears. "It’s very kind of you to say that, Liam."
"Also, once Isla makes up her mind, I don’t think anyone can change it."
"Except you, maybe?"
"Maybe." I smirk. I do have my own ways of persuading her. None of which are fit for the ears of her mother.
"Thank you for being there for her," she murmurs.
"Oh, whether she likes it or not, she’s stuck with me."
As we near the living room voices, reach me. The sound of laughter, of people speaking... "It sounds like there’s a party going on," I mutter.
"Oh, it’s our monthly Sunday lunch with all the members of the Lymington Knitting Club in attendance."
The blood drains from my face. "But don’t you meet on Fridays to knit?"
"Oh, sure, but we also meet one Sunday a month for lunch."
"I thought this was going to be a family dinner?"
"Oh, it is," she smiles brightly. "They are my extended family."
Of course, they are.
