Page 20 of Kiss Me Like You Mean It

‘I was supposed to be going for dinner with Adrian, but I’m too tired.’

The thought of Adrian brings the events of the last hour thundering back with such violence that I feel breathless. Adrian, my boyfriend. Who doesn’t know I’m married to someone else. Does it make it any better that I didn’t know either? He’s very even-tempered but I can’t imagine he’s going to be thrilled.

‘Hmmm.’ Gran looks down into her glass.

My spine stiffens. ‘What does hmmm mean?’

‘Nothing, nothing. I’m sure a romantic dinner with Adrian would have been… very exciting.’ The tiny snort she gives at the end of this sentence makes it clear she doesn’t believe anything of the sort.

Normally, I would ignore Gran’s little dig at my boyfriend, but today – for obvious reasons – I’m feeling a little defensive about my love life.

‘Not all relationships need to be full of high drama,’ I say firmly. ‘You’ve never liked Adrian and I don’t know why. He’s a very nice man.’

Gran sets her drink down with a clink. ‘He’s perfectly nice, Lee,’ she agrees. ‘But he’s so dull! Last time he was here he talked at me for thirty minutes about some legal wrangling with the council that I neither understood nor cared about. You’re too young to be settling down with someone so… staid. I know you, darling, you need someone who will challenge you, push you out of your comfort zone.’

‘I like my comfort zone.’

‘And what about passion?’ She throws the word out like she’s starring in a daytime soap opera.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. ‘I know very well what too much passion looks like and I have no interest in it. I’m happy with nice. He’s not staid, he’s steady. There are no surprises, we never argue.’

Gran’s expression softens and she leans across the island, reaching for my hand, a rare display of physical intimacy. ‘Lee, your parents… that’s not…’ She struggles for the words. ‘It doesn’t have to be that way.’

I shrug, taking a sip of my drink, and the burn of the gin in my throat is a welcome heat, a lick of flame settling in my chest.

‘I’m just saying, you have barely any social life,’ she continues stubbornly. ‘You’re stuck in this tepid relationship with a man who has all the personality of a glass of skimmed milk.’

‘Now, that’s not true,’ I protest. ‘Adrian is intelligent and thoughtful. We have a nice time together.’

Far from appeasing my grandmother, this only brings more colour to her face. I watch anxiously – a red face may be a sign of high blood pressure. Perhaps I should get her monitor, to be safe.

‘A nice time,’ Gran repeats, as I head to the incredibly well-stocked medicine cabinet I created in the kitchen. When I showed photos of it to Dr Clarke he’d been deeply impressed. (Or, at least, I choose to believe that’s what he meant by his comment that if they ran out of anything at the hospital they could just pop over to our place.)

‘There’s that word again,’ Gran continues. ‘Nice. What I think of the man wouldn’t matter a bit if I thought you actually cared about him. It’s been months and you’re drifting along. And it’s wrong – for both of you – to drag out a relationship that you know in your heart is going absolutely nowhere. It’s cruel, Ophelia.’

Cruel? The word stops me in my tracks. Have I been cruel?

Gran continues in this vein, getting more and more heated, and the whole time she talks there’s an empty feeling in my chest; my stomach is hollow. There’s enough truth in what she says to make me wince, but I don’t want to look at that right now. I have more than enough going on. She sounds genuinely frustrated with me, like I’ve made her unhappy. I don’t understand how we’ve ended up in this situation. We never argue.

‘I know you’ve always been quiet, self-contained,’ she’s saying now, ‘but this last year it’s like you’ve shut yourself off completely…’

‘I’m not like you,’ I manage. ‘I don’t need to live the kind of life you do.’

Gran huffs, a sound of exasperation. ‘I know that but you’re not acting like you. I raised you, Lee. I know when something isn’t right. I don’t know what’s happening, if it’s because of me, but you’re so distant all the time. Cancelling all your trips, no socialising with friends, this business with Adrian. You’re so unfeeling, so… cold.’

Cold. It’s not the first time I’ve been called that. I know my painfully introverted nature can be misread as being aloof or unfeeling, but it hurts to hear Gran say that. To feel so misunderstood by the person who has always known me best in the world. The irony is that her words have left something boiling inside me, something hot and messy, something that makes me feel out of control. I swallow it down, fight for control, knowing as I do that I’m only proving her point.

‘I’m not cold,’ I say, trying to keep the hurt from my words.

‘I didn’t—’ she starts, but she cuts herself off, takes a breath. ‘I just think you’re playing it too safe,’ Gran continues stubbornly. ‘You’re burying yourself in work. You’re travelling less—’

‘Because I need to be here with you!’ I point out, exasperated.

Her lips flatten into a firm line. ‘No, you don’t, Lee! I’m an adult and I don’t need a babysitter. You act like you have to put your life on hold for me, but I never asked you to!’ She glances at the blood pressure monitor clutched in my hand with obvious distaste. ‘I don’t need you… hovering over me and fussing all the time.’

‘You had a heart attack!’

She scoffs. ‘Barely. And everyone made such a fuss over it.’