Page 32 of Kiss Me Like You Mean It

‘I can imagine. Still, the two of you seem to be doing really well.’

He makes a noise that’s half laugh, half groan. ‘I wouldn’t say really well. I still feel like I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m doing most of the time. I’m a total pushover and she knows it. It took a long time for her to even start to really talk to me.’ His words come out fast, falling over each other as he unburdens himself.

‘It was six months before she moved in here permanently. Right around the same time she started calling me Dad. Before that it was Nicolas.’ His smile is rueful. ‘I’m more than ninety per cent certain she finally decided to move in because she wanted to live with Taco. It’s been… inch by inch and I know there’s still a long way to go.’

I battle the urge to reach over and take his hand. ‘I’d say you’re doing better than you think.’ I try to keep my tone light. ‘You’ve made a real home here. I saw her room. You made that space for her because you wanted her to feel seen. It’s perfect and she loves it. Even if you did include Pluto on her mural.’

Nico looks outraged. ‘You can’t just downgrade a whole planet!’

I hold up my hands in mock surrender. ‘Hey, you’re preaching to the converted, I told Phoebe the same thing.’

‘And what did she say?’

‘She told me it had been twenty years and I should get over it.’

Nico barks out a laugh. ‘Brutal.’

‘Devastating, honestly,’ I agree, unable to hold back my own grin. It feels good to make him laugh, to feel some of the tension in the room leach away. Still, I can’t help remembering why I’m here in the first place.

‘So you’ve been going through all this, and now I’ve brought a mess to your door.’

‘No,’ he replies quickly. ‘I told you, you haven’t. We can sort everything out. I’ll contact a lawyer and take care of it. I’m sorry; Phoebe and Magda meant well, but they should never have tricked you into coming out here.’

There’s a beat, a pause.

‘Why did they do it?’ I ask and this time I do lean over, this time I do touch him, my fingers brushing across his knuckles. It’s the lightest touch, but his hand turns over, his palm settling underneath mine, and after a second our fingers lace together. Something warm and golden races up my arm and settles deep in my chest. I worry that I might be glowing like a nightlight.

‘Nico,’ my heart is jumping, ‘why did Phoebe say you needed a wife?’

Nico looks at our hands, and his jaw tightens.

‘It’s nothing,’ he says abruptly, pulling away. ‘A misunderstanding.’ He gets to his feet. ‘I shouldn’t be keeping you up like this when you’re exhausted. Is there anything else you need?’

‘No,’ I say and I stand up, too, feeling thrown off-balance by his sudden shift. ‘I have everything I need.’

Everything except answers. Judging by Nico’s frown, I don’t think I’ve done a good job at hiding how hurt I am by his withdrawal. I wonder why it feels like he just shut a door in my face.

We stand awkwardly for another moment.

‘Well, goodnight,’ I say with a weak smile, heading for the bedroom.

‘Goodnight.’ His voice drifts towards me. ‘I’m sure we can get this all sorted in the morning.’

Chapter Eleven

Lee

The next morning I wake up late in Nico’s bed, tangled in sheets that smell like him.

It’s so easy to imagine him here, sprawled across the mattress, to imagine waking up beside him, his arm around my waist, my mouth pressed against his neck, his hand tangling in my hair, my fingers trailing down his chest…

My brain pulls the emergency brake and I sit up, pushing the sheets off me like they’re on fire.

That is quite enough of that.

I have a long, hot shower, resting my forehead against the tiles as the water pours over me, and tell myself that it’s time to get a grip, that I need to do what I came here to do: discuss legally ending my marriage and then get back to my life.

Nico has made it clear that he doesn’t want to talk about whatever is going on with him, and I will respect that. I can be calm and clear-headed. All business.