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We can’t really talk about the underlying problem. It’s rare for guys to talk about their feelings at all, and he’d never admit to my face that he’s jealous of my relationship with Saxon. I think he expected the closeness I have with my twin brother to fade as I got older, but I don’t think that will ever happen, even though I broke his nose last night. Alice told me:You’re twins. You’re going to have a special connection. Anyone who doesn’t accept that is going to have a problem, and I think she’s right.
He gets to his feet, I stand as well, and we walk into the house and up to the front door. When we get there, he turns and holds out his hand, and I shake it.
“Thank you for apologizing,” he says. “I know it sounds childish, and that I’m the one who did everything wrong, but it meant a lot to me. People don’t say they’re sorry enough.”
“You take care,” I tell him. “Good luck.”
He nods and goes out, and I close the door behind him.
I exhale in a long breath, go down into the living room, and collapse in one of the armchairs. I feel wrung out, but my day isn’t over yet. I check my watch—it’s not quite four p.m.
I text Mum:Hey you. Are you in?
She comes back:Yes! Going out to dinner at six. How are you doing?
Me:Good—can I call in quickly? I want to ask you something.
Mum:Of course! See you in a bit.
Me:I’ll be about fifteen minutes.
I go into the bedroom and through to the walk-in wardrobe, take out a case, and throw in a pair of jeans, a couple of tees, and some underwear. I wash my face and change into a clean pair of jeans and a fresh tee, comb my hair, and glare at my bruised eye. Then I collect my car keys, take the bag to the car, lock the house, and set off for my parents’ house.
When I’m done there, I get back in the car and head off to the airport.
Sam and Immi are ready and waiting, and soon I’m in the air, heading for Gisborne.
Excitement bubbles in my stomach at the thought of seeing Alice, and of our upcoming conversation. Nothing is certain, that much I know. It doesn’t matter what conclusions her mother and I come to—she’s the one we need to convince.
I think about Craig, feeling a sweep of sadness that his marriage is irreparable. He cheated on Chloe, so I understand why she doesn’t want him back, and I can imagine that living in a sexless marriage is tough. Should he have tried harder to make it work before leaving her for someone else? Almost certainly. But relationships are two-way streets, and while obviously a man needs to be understanding when his wife is pregnant and has given birth, and I can imagine some people thinking a guy should learn to deal with a lack of attention and sex in that situation, as Craig said, we’re only human. We all need to feel loved, admired, and wanted. Can I blame Craig because he felt the need to look elsewhere for love and sex?
I look out of the plane’s window at the late afternoon sun that’s turned the clouds the color of coral. If I get a second chance with Alice, I intend to make sure she always feels wanted and loved.
I don’t pretend to understand God’s purpose, she told me.I believe in faith, hope, and love, and try to apply that to the people around me. And that’s what I need to do now. I need to have faith that her feelings for me are strong enough to get us through this. I have to hope that our future is a lot brighter than she obviously thinks it is at the moment.
And I intend to prove that I love her, and that I want to be with her for the rest of our lives.
The plane begins its descent through the clouds, and I buckle myself in for the ride.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Alice
I’m absolutely shattered.
Charlie’s revelation yesterday threw all three of us into a whirlwind of heightened emotions, and it’s been very difficult to stop them spinning us around.
Mum went to bed early last night, exhausted from the whole thing, and the two of us stayed up until very late, checking on her from time to time, both frightened of leaving her alone.
“We have to sort this,” Charlie told me at one point, long after the sun had set. “We can’t keep doing this to her.”
“I know that,” I snapped. But I couldn’t see a way clear through the thick forest of our problems.
In the end, both of us were so tired and irritable and upset that we decided to sleep on it and talk again the next day.
I lay awake for about an hour, thinking about Kip, missing him, and feeling miserable, and fighting with myself because he’s my best friend, and I wanted to call him and talk it over with him, and I couldn’t. Eventually I crashed out, slept too long, and I’ve woken with a headache, grouchy and frustrated that the solution hasn’t miraculously come to me in my sleep.
But I get up and have a shower, and feel a bit better when I’m clean and dressed and my hair is pinned up. I come out and make us all some breakfast, and then Charlie suggests that the three of us go out for a walk along the waterfront. I drive us down there, and we purposefully don’t talk much about the men in our life, letting the sea breeze blow the cobwebs from our troubled minds.
