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I kiss her hair. “So what do you think?”
“I can’t. But I’m flattered that you want me to stay.”
“Why can’t you?”
“Because Charlie’s heading off in a couple of days to meet some friends in the South Island, and I want to spend some time with her before she goes.”
That’s tough to argue against. It’s not fair of me to demand more of her time when she has so little to go around.
I brush my fingers down her back, then back up her sides. “Uni doesn’t start until the end of February though, right? Is she going back to Gisborne after her trip south?”
“No. She’s there for a couple of weeks, camping, and then she’ll be working in Wellington right up to the beginning of the term.”
“When is her next break? When is she home again? Easter?”
“Yeah.”
“What about your aunt? When do you think she’ll be able to look after your mum again?”
“Not for a while. Her oldest daughter, Gina, is getting married, so she’ll be saving her holiday for that. You can see my predicament, Kip. I’m not being obstructive on purpose. It’s just too hard.”
“Every problem has a solution. Finding answers to difficult questions is what I do for a living.”
“Maybe.” She props her chin on my chest and studies me. “But I’m not a project you need to analyze. I’m not a puzzle to solve.”
I play with her hair. “I know. But I don’t know any other way to be.”
“I understand why you’re frustrated. I am, too. But this is how it is. I’m sorry, but you just need to accept it.”
It comes to me then that Alice is arguing with me—in the most gentle, civil, grown-up way possible. She doesn’t want to shout or accuse or ruin the blissful moment we’ve had. But she’s not going to drop to her knees and beg for me to help her find the answer either. She’s already decided this is it, and she’s come to terms with that.
I haven’t, though. “I can’t just accept it,” I tell her. “Because I want you.”
“And you’re used to getting what you want.”
I shrug.
She sits up. “You need to let me go, Kip,” she says gently. Then her lips curve up a little. “Don’t glare at me.”
My brain is furiously trying to come up with an answer. She’s already told me she can’t move to Wellington because her mother can’t bear to leave the house Alice’s father lived in, and I understand that. Unfortunately, even though some of the work I do can be done remotely, a lot of it can’t. I need to meet with my clients, so I can’t move to Gisborne.
“I’ve got my own plane,” I tell her, full of frustration. “I’ll fly up after work and fly back in the morning.”
“It’s still an hour, and we’re fifteen minutes’ drive from the airport. And you work such long hours.”
“Lots of people have long commutes.”
“That’s true, but it’s not a practical solution, honey.”
“It doesn’t have to be every day. I could come up on Friday night and fly back Monday morning.”
“You usually work at the weekends,” she reminds me. “All it would do is make it harder when we eventually realize there isn’t a long-term solution. I’m so sorry, but there just isn’t. And the thing is, this,” and she gestures between us, “what we have here, it’s been so wonderful, but it’s just sex. It’s not like it’s the love of a lifetime.”
Silence settles before us as our eyes meet. Her hand drifts down and rests on the duvet like an autumn leaf.
“Right,” I say.
She bites her lip. “Kip…”
