Reunited at The Altar

‘Yeah.’ He held her close. ‘You’re wonderful, do you know that?’

‘I’m just me.’

But it warmed her all the way through when, an hour later, her doorbell went and the local florist handed her the most beautiful arrangement of flowers.

The card was in Brad’s handwriting and said simply, Because you make my world a better place.

Abigail had to blink back the tears. Today had been a little bit of a hurdle, but they’d overcome it. So maybe, just maybe, there was hope for the future.

CHAPTER NINE

BRAD CALLED FOR Abigail at seven on Friday evening and she greeted him with a kiss. ‘Thank you for the flowers. I know I texted you, but it’s good to say thank you in person, too. They’re gorgeous.’

‘You’re welcome.’ He looked slightly awkward. ‘Sorry I was a bit difficult yesterday.’

‘It’s fine. You talked to me.’ And that was the big difference between now and five years ago, she thought. The thing that gave her hope for the future. There was still stuff he was keeping inside, but she’d give him space and let him talk when he was ready.

‘Mum says thanks for the brownies.’ He handed her the now clean cake tin.

Abigail smiled. ‘She’s already texted me to say thanks.’

His eyes widened. ‘Did she ask...?’

‘Of course she did. She’s your mum and she worries about you. But I told her,’ Abigail said softly, ‘that we’re talking, that right now we’re not in a place to make any decisions, but she’ll be among the first to know when we do.’ She stroked his face. ‘And she’s not going to rush us. When we make the decision, it has to be right. For both of us.’

‘Agreed.’ He kissed her. ‘Come on. Let’s go and play.’

He’d got tickets for them to see a singer-songwriter in a tiny venue in Norwich, where the bar was lit by fairy lights and the stage was just about big enough for three people, two guitars and a piano. It reminded her of their years in Cambridge when they’d go to see a band in some tiny room and stand at the front, with his arms wrapped round her, swaying along to the music and enjoying the closeness as well as the atmosphere.

They couldn’t go back to the past.

But maybe they could move forward and bring the best bits of the past with them.

* * *

On Saturday night, they went to the cinema, and Brad even put up with a rom-com and held her hand all the way through it. He got his steam train trip on Sunday afternoon, and their seats were in an old-fashioned carriage with seats opposite each other and a corridor, with a uniformed inspector coming to clip their tickets. And Abigail had to admit it was fun, with the sulphurous smell of coal in the air and the sight of the steam wafting past the windows as they went round a bend in the track.

Monday felt like a honeymoon: a day to themselves in Norwich, where they went to an art exhibition in the castle and wandered through narrow streets full of quirky, independent shops. They had afternoon tea in a café where all the china was clearly vintage and none of the tables and chairs matched, but she loved the ambience: ancient pine dressers where jars of local honey and home-made jam were stacked for sale, the paintings on the walls were all by local artists and were for sale, and they had a kitsch cuckoo clock which gave the café its name. The scones were light and fluffy, the sandwiches were perfect and the red velvet cake was the best she’d ever tasted.

On Tuesday, Brad picked her up after work and they had a fabulous dinner on the terrace at his hotel before sitting on his balcony with a bottle of champagne, watching the sun set.

Two more days, she thought, and their speed-dating thing would be over. It would be time to make their decision about the future.

Dating him over the last few days had shown her that yes, she was still physically attracted to him and still enjoyed his company. Spending time together was fun.

And if she was honest with herself, she knew she was still in love with him. In love with the man he’d become rather than the memory of the teenager she’d married. Brad was thoughtful, kind, and he made her laugh. If he asked her to stay with him, she knew she would.

But how did he feel about her?