She was about to tell Roland the good news when she noticed that his face had blanched. ‘Is everything OK?’ she asked instead, concerned.
‘Sure.’ But he didn’t move. He just sat there, staring at the table.
She finished making the coffee and brought his mug over to the table. ‘You don’t look sure,’ she said gently.
‘I...’ He sighed and gestured to one of the envelopes. ‘This came from Mindy, Lyn’s best friend from school. They’re moving house and she found these photos and thought I might like them.’
‘That was kind of her,’ Grace said. Or was it? He looked as if someone had ripped his heart out. Roland had clearly loved his wife deeply. Despite the fact that he’d said he was ready to move on, from his reaction to getting those photographs Grace didn’t think he was. Was he feeling guilty that he’d taken her to Venice—as if he’d betrayed Lyn’s memory? Though asking him would be like stomping over still-fresh wounds, and she didn’t know what to say.
In the end she reached over to squeeze his hand. ‘I didn’t know Lyn, but you said that she wouldn’t want you to be sad. Why don’t you look at the photos and remember the good times?’
‘I...’ His voice sounded thick with emotion. ‘But you...’
‘We had a deal,’ she said. ‘It finishes today. And I’d like to think that we’ve become friends.’ More than that—they’d been lovers, and it had shown Grace exactly what she’d been missing in her life. How wrong she’d been when she’d thought she could settle for nice enough instead of the real thing.
Roland could so easily have been her real thing.
But she knew that he wasn’t ready to move on, and she wasn’t sure if he ever would be.
‘Friends,’ he said.
‘I’d like to see the photos,’ she said. ‘Talk to me, Roland. Tell me about Lyn. Tell me about the good times.’
* * *
Roland knew he ought to tell Grace the truth. About the bad times. But he didn’t want her to think badly of Lyn. Or of him.
He took the photographs out of the envelope. ‘They’re from years ago. Just a weekend at the beach with friends.’
‘She looks nice,’ Grace said. ‘As if she was fun. And you both look so happy.’
They had been. Once.
‘Yeah.’ His voice cracked.
Grace pushed her chair back and walked round the table to wrap her arms round him. ‘Don’t focus on the fact that she’s gone. Focus on the fact that you were together and you loved each other.’
And it hadn’t been enough. But how could he explain?
‘Grace, I wish...’
As if her thoughts were totally in tune with his, she held him just that little bit tighter. ‘Roland, these past few weeks have been amazing. You’ve swept me off my feet—but, better still, you’ve shown me that I don’t have to settle for being sensible all the time. That it’s OK to dream and to reach for those dreams. And your dating skills are just fine—but I don’t think you’re ready to move on. Not yet.’
No. Because his guilt still held him back, making him feel that he didn’t deserve a second chance. Not when he’d messed up so badly. ‘I guess,’ he said.
But, even if they could get over that hurdle, there was another sticking point. The one that had cracked his marriage. He and Lyn had had trouble conceiving, and he didn’t know if the problem had lain with him. What if Grace wanted children—and, just like it had happened with Lyn, their love got bogged down in the problems of conception? He couldn’t bear to go through that nightmare again. And, even though he knew Grace was sensible and down to earth, even the most sensible person could be sideswiped by emotions.
He had to let this go. For her sake as well as for his own. He had to get out of her way and let her find the happiness she deserved. Even if it was with someone else.
‘Those messages that came through—one was from my landlord,’ she said. ‘Thanks to your restoration expert sucking up the water and putting a dehumidifier in early, the flat’s all dried out now. It seemed they don’t need to strip the plaster back after all, so I can move my stuff back whenever I like. Which is perfect timing,’ she said brightly.
Meaning she was going to walk out of his life. Roland didn’t want her to go—but he knew she was right. He wasn’t ready to move on. It wasn’t fair to ask her to wait indefinitely.