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Using one hand, Freddy lets us into the garage and flicks on the lights. Instantly I am taken aback. This isn’t the garage at all. It’s a studio apartment all built into what was once the old garage.
“What the hell?” I mutter in amazement.
He laughs and places me on the floor. “Seemed silly paying for a flat and the garage all in one go. I decided to combine the space.”
Slowly, I turn around. “It’s quite amazing.” I’m in shock for the second time in one day. This time it’s a better shock. Leather sofas define the living room area, bookshelves line the walls, and soft faded rugs make it look more homely than you’d think possible.
“Fancy a drink?” He heads for a sideboard with bottles stood on one edge. Picking up a bottle, he pours himself what looks like a triple scotch and knocks it back. “Shit,” he exclaims, as he places his glass softly back on the antique wood. “That wasn’t how I was planning on tonight going.”
“What were you planning?”
He laughs a small sound. “Anything other than you being screamed at, assaulted, and me unable to get to you.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” I reassure him. The brandy is telling me that it wasn’t that bad.
“How long has she been like that for, Amber?”
“She hasn’t. That was the first time she’s done… that. I mean, she gets cross and frustrated, especially at night, and she has nightmares a lot. I think it’s when she’s tired. But she’sneverdone that before.”
In one step he’s across the room, his hands tight on my shoulders. “You know you can’t live like that? If that’s how she’s going to be then she needs to go into a home.”
“She’s the reason I came back, Freddy. I have to look after her.”
“Not like that.” Pulling me in tight, he encases me in his arms of steel. More memories from a previous life burst like fireworks in my head. Arms of steel. “And what about Isaac? Are you going to let him see that?”
This stops me in my tracks. Imagine if he’d been there tonight? I don’t say anything.
Freddy continues anyway, “Where is Isaac? I thought this was your weekend?”
I groan slightly and thump my head against his chest. “Elliot,” I start to say but Freddy cuts me off.
“I bloody hate that bloke. I’m struggling to understand what you saw in him.”
“You know what I saw in him.”
Anger flashes across his face as he remembers my comment that the reason I settled for Elliot was because he wasn’t Freddy. I shouldn’t have said it now, but the brandy is still snapping in my veins. Maybe more of the fiery liquid would dissipate the anger I’m feeling? I reach a placating hand and slide it up the smooth skin of his forearm. “Shall we have a drink?”
His easy smile flashes back. “Make it a stiff one, and I’ll try and make sense of it all for you.”
The brandy I’ve already consumed has loosened my tongue enough that telling Freddy all about my disastrous marriage seems like the very best idea ever. I’ve told him snippets before. During our night together after our date, I shared snapshots of what my life was like when I wasn’t here. But I was concentrating more on the telling him what my life was like without him, Freddy, in it. I never told him the choices I made that had me married to the wrong man.
An hourlater we are curled up on one of the deep sofas and I’ve come to the end of my sorry tale. The one where I met a guy who looked like he loved me and would love my son. One I believed I could make myself learn to love, but when it came to it, couldn’t. I’ve told Freddy all about the guilt and shame I felt for the six months before I came back home, the six months when I knew my marriage was a sham and I couldn’t breathe in it anymore. The six months when I didn’t know what the hell to do.
“When did you know you weren’t going to fall in love with him?” Freddy has his lips at my ear.
I weigh up whether to tell him the whole truth. The truth that makes me look weak and pathetic, and someone who I don’t like.
“The day he asked me to marry him, when I said yes for Isaac, and not for myself.”
“If I’d found you and asked you, would you have said yes for yourself, or for Isaac?”
I struggle against him so I can sit up. “You didn’t.”
“I know.” His eyes darken and his expression hardens. “I wish I had.”
“The past is just the past.” I shrug.
“You’ve never been a part of my past, Amber. You have always been my present, even when you weren’t here.” His mouth finds mine for the first time since our night together. The taste of him makes my body respond stronger than it’s ever done before. I can trace the hint of scotch on his lips, and it tastes good in all the bad ways.
