The Man She Should Have Married

Nia’s heart twisted, the pain more savage than any physical wound. Farlan was sitting there on a sofa, wearing a sleek grey suit and that impossible to resist smile.

‘So, Farlan—’ the interviewer gave him a dazzling smile of her own ‘—your first film was a cult indie drama, and your last one was the action movie of the summer. What’s next?’

On the television screen, Farlan tilted his face upwards in a way that made Nia swallow hard.

‘Well, Chrissie, there’s a couple of things in the pipeline. Probably the one I’m most excited about is a contemporary reworking of the story of Orpheus.’

Chrissie bit into her lip. ‘That sounds like a challenging project…’ She leaned forward in her chair. ‘What was it that attracted you to that particular story?’

Nia felt her throat tighten as Farlan looked into the camera.

‘It’s timeless. Boy loves girl. Boy loses girl. Boy gets girl back. But there’s a twist.’ His smile faded. ‘Boy loses girl again through his own wilful stupidity because he doesn’t have faith that what he wants will actually happen. I guess it was that part that really spoke to me on a personal level. You see, I know how Orpheus felt.’

Nia’s pulse accelerated. His eyes seemed to be looking directly at her—only of course he was talking to millions of unseen viewers.

‘Seven years ago I fell in love with this beautiful girl. We were young, and I was pretty intense back then. I still am now. Anyway, we broke up.’ He shifted in his seat. ‘I never forgot her. She was always there in my head. Her face. Her voice. Then we met again a couple of weeks ago and I realised I would never be able to forget her because I still loved her.’

‘And what happened?’ Chrissie was leaning forward, her mascaraed eyes on stalks.

Farlan frowned. ‘I messed up again. I could have led us both out of the Underworld but I messed up. And now I don’t know how to live without her.’

There was a small silence, and then Chrissie turned to the camera. ‘Sadly, we’ve run out of time, but thank you for talking with me today…’

The presenter carried on talking, but Nia couldn’t focus on what she was saying. She was staring at the pattern on the sofa behind Farlan. It was the same as the sofa in the drawing room at Lamington. Her eyes searched the screen. And that painting—

He was here.

Farlan was here.

She covered her mouth with her hand, breathing raggedly.

‘Nia—’

It was his voice. So familiar, and yet not familiar. He sounded like she felt. As if he was being torn apart inside.

She turned. The kitchen was empty. Everyone had left.

Everyone but Farlan.

‘What are you doing back here?’

He took a step towards her. ‘I can’t leave. I tried, but how can I leave you? You’re my soul, my heart, and I love you.’

His eyes were fixed on hers, clear and green and hopeful. It was what she had wanted to hear because she loved him so much. But then she thought about his face in the car, and then again at the cottage.

‘And I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. But we keep hurting each other so badly.’

‘I know.’ His face was pale. ‘And I know that’s on me. I have stuff going on in my head and I’ve tried to deal with it, but i

t’s too big for me to handle on my own.’

His face, the look of pain and the shame on it, made her heart turn inside out. ‘It’s not your fault, Farlan.’ She took a step forward, her words spilling out in a rush. ‘You’re not to think that.’

‘Maybe not what happened in my childhood, but how I’ve handled this, us…that’s on me.’

He took another step closer—close enough that they could touch.

‘But I’m going to make changes. I’ve got myself a therapist. And I’m going to get in touch with Cam. I’m still angry with him, but he was just a kid too, and he did his best.’ His face was strained. ‘Please tell me it’s not too late for us. I love you so much, Nia.’