Page 123 of The Man Upstairs


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“Yeah.”

She was right on that. Scottie could have set the world on fire, and Jayden’s loyalty would never fade. It could be buried, and fought, and Jayden could kick and scream, and tell his dad what an utter asshole he was, but it wouldn’t stop the love. Jayden would always forgive him.

I only hoped it would be the same for Lola and me. And for Peter, too. I hoped family always came back. Loyal, even when they hated the choices we’d made.

And what about Julian?

I got a tickle of unease at that thought. Like a ghost of a wave up my back.

“What?” Lola said, reading me.

“I was just wondering,” I said, with the wine loosening my tongue. “Since we’re so hopeful that our families will forgive us one day, surely Julian must be, too.”

“I would guess so. He must miss them like hell. He has kids, and a granddaughter. Didn’t you say he has a brother, too?”

“Michael, yeah.”

“Has he reached out to them?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Not that I know of. He doesn’t think there’s any point, because they’ll never forgive him. He was never going to forgive himself.”

“But then he met you. And he’s feeling a bit different now. He must be. He looks really happy. You should be proud.”

That made me grin, happy that I’d been able to help him feel happy like that. “Yeah, you’re right. I do feel proud.”

“Do you think he’ll try reaching out to them, now that he’s feeling a bit better? The worst they can do is shout and scream some more.”

I got another tickle again, like a ghost as she carried on talking.

“Imagine how much easier things would be for him if they ever did forgive him. Oxford might welcome him back, eventually. One day.”

I had a weird contradiction in my gut at that. I’d be ecstatic for him, I really would, but if he had that kind of choice… to return to Oxford and his life there… or stay here, in Crenham, with me… which would he choose? Would his family ever be able to accept him being with me, even if they did forgive him? I doubted that. But if he left me. If he chose them…

Would I want him to choose them? Could I be that selfless?

I’d always hoped Mum would choose me over her partners. Maybe Julian’s children would feel like that, too…

Lola seemed to sense my nerves.

“Don’t worry. He’s not going to ditch you. No way. He’s absolutely besotted with you. You can see it. He looks at you like you’re his meaning for living.”

That hit a nerve, remembering the goodbye letters.

“Right now, I guess I am.”

“I don’t think that’s going to fade any time this century.”

“It definitely isn’t going to change for me.” I smiled. “He’s so amazing, I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

She leant in close, with a giggle. “Put your own whisk inside you?”

I laughed with ashh.“I don’t think it would feel the same somehow. I won’t be trying it.”

“I might be trying it with a whisk,” she said. “You inspired me. And Peter, too. He said it sounded hot as fuck.”

It felt bizarre in that moment, Peter being here, knowing Julian and I intimately enough to be able to imagine me spread open on this very sofa with a whisk stretching my pussy open. But then, was it? Was it that weird for friends? I hadn’t any experience to judge it by.

I knew a billion things about what Peter had done to Lola. Handcuffing her and whipping her with a cable. Slapping her thighs over and over with a wooden paddle. I wondered if she had bruises up her thighs tonight. I had marker pen on mine under my dress, spelling outdirty bitch.

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