I’d tried to deny it. To resist and lock it away, but the truth kept pushing through my defenses. Realization trickled through my veins with the wine. I wanted her. Not just for the night. I wanted more than that. I just wasn’t sure what exactly.
Faced with the idea that other people—that my brothers—saw the beauty in Madison too, I couldn’t stand it. They didn’t know her like I did. There was an intimacy between Madison and me that I didn’t want to share. I wanted it for myself.
And I was used to getting what I wanted.
“Hey, Jacob,” I called, rising to my feet and circling the fire pit.
He snapped his head up and I just nodded toward the back door, indicating that I wanted him to go.
“Really?” he said.
I pressed my lips together and nodded.
Madison was mine.
Nineteen
Nathan
Madison watched as my brother disappeared into the house.
“I hope I didn’t break anything up,” I said, taking the seat Jacob had just vacated.
She frowned a little but didn’t say anything.
“So, have you gathered all the material you need?” I asked.
“We weren’t talking about you,” she said as she tapped her watch. “I’m off the clock, so I can talk about something else for a change. Sorry to bruise your ego.”
I clutched my chest and collapsed against the back of the chair. “I’m devastated. So what were you talking about?”
She took a sip of her wine. “Nothing in particular—his job. Why are you so interested?”
Of course they’d be talking about Jacob’s work. People who came from medicine loved to talk about medicine, and women who didn’t have a medical background loved to talk to doctors. “What is it about doctors? Is it the white coat? Or the stethoscope? Or the idea of someone being covered in blood and shit—”
Madison’s laugh interrupted the beginnings of a rant. “You need to have a bit more wine and chill out. What’s the matter with you? You sound . . . jealous.”
I took a sip of my wine. Being the only non-medic in a family of doctors had always created separation between me and my family, but I’d never been jealous of their careers. It wasn’t the work that made me envious. I just didn’t like the idea of Madison finding that attractive. I could never compete. “Maybe I am,” I replied.
“Of your brother?” she asked. “Of his job?”
“That he had your attention.”
I held her gaze, ready for her reaction. We were at the crossroads of something. We’d been here before and she’d run. But now? We knew each other better.
She didn’t say anything.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked eventually.
“Do you do anything else?” I teased her.
“Not a journalist question. A Madison question.”
I was intrigued to know the difference. “Go ahead.”
“Why did you leave Oxford? I don’t get it.”
She’d seen the certificates this afternoon all hanging side by side. Of course she would notice. Of course she was going to bring it up. Of course I should have been more prepared, but her question still hit me like a physical punch.
“I was rusticated,” I said. It was a ridiculous phrase. Typical Oxford.
“Rusty-what-now?”
“Sent down. Expelled.”
“You?” she said, reaching for my hand. “No. What on earth for?”
I don’t know why but her shock was soothing. “Cheating.”
“What are you talking about? There’s no way . . .” She shook her head as if she just couldn’t believe what I was saying. Did Madison really know me that well? “Nathan, tell me what on earth happened.”
I didn’t want to lie. Not anymore. I moved my hand under hers, linked our fingers together, and for the first time in my life, I started to tell someone the truth of what happened. “I was sharing a room with Mark. He was struggling to keep up with the volume of work. His family weren’t well off and he’d managed to get a scholarship.”
“Mark Alpern?” she asked.
I nodded, thinking back to that time. “Anyway, he was struggling and in danger of losing his scholarship. And instead of getting his head down and just doing the work, he started drinking and making really bad choices.”
I remembered how I’d felt so sorry for him. Even now, I wasn’t sure if the pressure of Oxford had forced him down a wrong turn. Maybe his character had been set long before. “He got hold of the exam papers for the end-of-year examinations,” I continued.
“When you say he got hold of them, you mean he paid someone who had stolen them?”
“Yeah, so he knew the questions in advance. And the college authorities found the guy who was selling the papers and searched our room and found the ones Mark had bought.”
“And they blamed you?” She shifted to the edge of her chair. “How? I mean, you wouldn’t have needed the same papers. Mark wasn’t a medic; he said it himself this afternoon.”