Had that triggered these feelings of uncertainty? “Maybe.” I pressed a kiss into her neck. “I feel like at the moment, I don’t know what the future holds.”
Her fingers smoothed around my neck. “None of us do.”
I inhaled. “Relationships change things. When it’s just me, I have some semblance of control over my future—I decide whether I’m going to go to the gym or take a trip or work the weekend. You know?”
She held my gaze. “And now we’re together, you don’t get to decide those things?”
I shrugged. “No. I do. But there are other variables at play that impact my day. Things that could change my future. Maybe you’re working the weekend. Or we get into a fight. Maybe you get sick.”
“We won’t get into a fight as long as you keep me in chocolate-covered raisins and orgasms.” She smiled up at me and I couldn’t help but smile back. Her joy was contagious, but it didn’t erase the uncertainty sitting like sludge in my gut. “But seriously, I think the idea is that we make peace with uncertainty. Any certainty in life is an illusion in any event. We think our lives are going to continue as they are, but there are no guarantees.”
I nodded. “You’re right.” I wasn’t stupid. I knew what she was saying was true. I’d just spent a long time making sure I controlled as much as possible in my life. I wasn’t good with uncertainty.
“But you’re still uneasy. Tell me why. Is it about the cameras you found?”
“Partly. I don’t like not knowing what’s coming for us. There are so many moving parts in our lives at the moment. The cameras. What’s happening with us. Ninety days is nearly up and what then?” I paused. I didn’t want to worry her, but she was asking to know me. “I’ve been like this since I was a kid. Sometimes I can sense something bad is going to happen. I just feel uneasy at the moment.”
She looped her hands around my waist and squeezed me hard. “Because of what happened with your sister?”
“I think so. As a kid you don’t expect your sister to die or your parents to divorce. You think that how life is today is how it’s going to be forever. Of course, that’s never the case, but usually, you learn the lesson a little later in life.”
“It must have been so difficult for you. I can’t even imagine.”
Having Parker right beside me felt so good. So right. Like it was meant to be this way. But at the same time, feeling like that was terrifying. I’d always avoided having women in my life long-term because I never wanted to put stock in the notion that my today would be my tomorrow. There were no guarantees, and I couldn’t bear the thought of waking up to a different future to the one I had planned out. As a single man with just me to worry about, my wife wasn’t ever going to get sick or decide she wanted a different life without me. I never had to worry about that life-disrupting change. Parker had come along and shifted my possible futures, making me long for stability I knew didn’t exist. I just didn’t know how to reconcile this growing desire for forever with the truth I knew in my gut: forever didn’t exist.
Twenty-Nine
Parker
I had lunch to eat and a conscience to clear. Ninety days were nearly up but there was one more thing I needed to do before I got my hands on my trust fund.
“This is a nice surprise,” my dad said as I popped my head around his office door.
“Maureen said you hadn’t had lunch.” I held up a Pret bag with his favorite egg and cress sandwich. “I thought we could eat together.”
“Wonderful. Come in and sit down.”
I took a seat and unpacked the sandwiches. “I got you water. No coffee. Mum says you’re not allowed.”
He sighed. “I’m on a complete coffee ban now. She said if I still want a glass of wine at weekends, the coffee has to be cut completely. Maureen won’t even get me a cup.”
“Maureen knows which side her bread is buttered. Mum is infinitely more terrifying than you are.”
“Agreed.” My dad opened his egg and cress sandwich but before he took a bite, he looked me in the eye. “So, straight to it, why are you here?”
He’d not gotten to where he had by mincing his words. “I just want to talk about my trust fund.”
He took a bite of his sandwich, giving me more time to elaborate. But I hadn’t quite found the words.
“The lawyers are sorting out the paperwork. All funds should be in your name by the end of the week.”
He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know and I should be deliriously happy with what he was saying. But it was like the lie I’d told him about Tristan and me had lodged in my chest and now was fighting to get out. “I wanted to talk to you about that,” I replied.