Page 10 of When We Are Old

“Well what?” His lips curved though, playful and teasing; the boy I remembered always pushed me to say something out loud. The man in his place would do the same, I knew that.

“I never thought this would happen.” I still balanced in his hold, a naked plank.

“Ronnie.” He lowered me and I shivered as our skin touched again. “This is happening. Right now. Happening.”

“I live so far from you. And what about your boys? What will they say? I mean, they are already messed up from your divorce, and Julie…” I pulled a face at the mention of his ex-wife.

“Ronnie. Stop, okay? Stop.” His hands smoothed my hair. “Do you believe for one minute that this isn’t perfect?”

How could it be anything other than perfection? It was Matthew. “No.”

“Then let’s take it one step at a time. You know that I love you. I always have. Every moment since I met you there has always been a door carved with your name in my heart.” He let out a small exhalation. “But we both need to be responsible for the choices we’ve made over the last eighteen years. I won’t let my boys down.”

My heart clanged. “God, Matthew. I’d never say that. Ever.”

His thumb brushed the edge of my cheek. “And you, I mean, Hannah lost her father. It wasn’t a bitter divorce like Ewan and Jack have been through. Paul...” He tripped over Paul’s name the way that I did Julie's and it made my heart squeeze. “Paul died. You loved him. I’ll respect that.”

Guilt pressed on me until I wanted to sink down into the mattress and never surface again. I fought it though. I didn’t have anything to feel guilty about, not anymore. “He died five years ago, Matthew. Hannah misses him, but I think she’s okay with life moving on.” It wasn’t something I’d discussed with my daughter, mainly because up until very recently our conversations had been monosyllabic or shouted at a hundred decibels.

His expression shadowed.

I didn’t want to talk about exes and ghosts. I had to get back to London. Time slipped with ease around us.

“What are you going to do with your dad’s shop? Have you thought about it?”

“Since yesterday when you told me to make it into a greengrocers?”

Angling onto my elbows, I gazed at his face. “Were you disappointed with my suggestion?” The rebrand for Supersaver Foods had bought us back together. “I just went with what was in my heart.”

God, my heart ached for him. For the relationship he’d struggled through with his dad. For the price he’d paid—that we’d both paid really—for his loyalty to his family and his dad’s memory.

“It was perfect.”

“So, Greengrocer Matty?”

I shrieked as he grabbed me and rolled us over. “Matty?” He arched an eyebrow, his lips a whisper from mine. “Please don’t call me that. I’ve held on to being your Matthew for far too long now for you to go and change it.”

“Okay. Matt?”

He nipped at my lower lip, setting my belly on fire with longing. “Matthew.”

“Okay, Greengrocer Matthew.”

I submitted willingly to the onslaught of his kisses until, “Matthew!” was called up the stairs.

He pulled back, his eyes open wide. “It’s my bloody mother.” His arms froze into a protective cage around me.

“She has a key?” I grinned. “Matty.”

He took a moment to appraise me with curved lips. “Don’t judge me, Ronnie. You live with your mother.”

He had a point.

“We’ve come to see how your broken heart is!” A gruff Scottish shout—not his mother's—called up the stairs.

“Oh shit. That’s Ryan.” Matthew’s wide eyes met mine.

“We’ve got single malt and pretzels.”