Page 59 of If We Were Young

My chest ached a little. “I don’t know.”

“I might.” I didn’t want to hear him analyse my business failures.

Aha, I had a question. “Did you marry her for her money?” There was no way to phrase it without being rude.

“No.”

“Love?” My voice croaked.

“Maybe.” His face tightened. Liar. “Why are you still wearing your wedding ring?”

“It reminds me of how angry I am.”

“Aren’t you tired of being angry?”

“Were you?”

He cracked a heart-stopping smile. “No.”

I smiled back. Stupid.

“I’ve missed this.”

I nodded, calming my heart. “Me too.” I took a sip of my drink. “I’ll be sad when you go back to miserable Scotland again.” Total truth.

“You thought I was an arsehole all this time?”

“You are.”

He reached across the table and he held his palm up waiting for me to place mine within his wide grasp. I did.

God, it felt so good.

Like finding your favourite pair of slippers at the back of a cupboard and then sliding your feet in and remembering how comfortable they were.

“What are you thinking?”

“That you are like a pair of slippers.”

“From you I take that as a compliment. Am I well-worn and much loved?” A trick question.

“What do you think it would have been like to stay friends?” My heart ached at the thought of him always being in my life. What it could have felt like. That ray of warmth like the sun shining through a window and settling on your back. That was what Matthew used to be.

“Ronnie. It would never have happened.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Why?” I asked again. A whisper.

“Because Angela is right.” He held my gaze and I warmed in the pit of my stomach.

My shoulders fell, a weight pushing them down. “I know.”

The food arrived but neither of us picked up our chopsticks.

“You know we’ve never even kissed. This thing we had might be made up.” I was taking a wide leap. I was using the information he gave me in the car the other night; the fact he was so angry after seeing me ‘kiss’ someone else. His acknowledgement that he knew my silence on the doorstep that fateful evening might not have been my final answer and I’m leaping off the edge of reason with it.