After Hours.... Christy McKellen

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СКАЧАТЬ couldn’t bring myself to change it.’ He paused and she saw his shoulders rise then fall as he took a deep breath. ‘The bed, I mean. It still smelled faintly like her. I let her mother take all her clothes and other personal effects—what would I have done with them?—but the bed was mine. The last place we’d been together before I lost her—’ he took another breath, pushing back his hunched shoulders ‘—before she died.’

      ‘Oh, God, Max... I’m so, so sorry. I had no idea.’

      He huffed out a dry laugh. ‘How could you? I did everything I could to avoid talking to you about it.’ He grimaced. ‘Because, to be honest, I’ve done enough talking about it to last me a lifetime. I guess, in my twisted imagination, I thought if you didn’t know, I could pretend it hadn’t happened when you were around. Outside of work, you’re the first normal, unconnected thing I’ve had in my life since I lost her and I guess I was hanging on to that.’

      He turned to look at her again. ‘I should have told you, Cara, especially after you moved in, but I couldn’t find a way to bring it up without—’ He paused and swallowed hard, the look in his eyes so wretched that, without thinking, she reached out and laid a hand on his bare forearm.

      He frowned down at where their bodies connected and the air seemed to crackle around them.

      Disconcerted by the heat of him beneath her fingertips, she withdrew her hand and laid it back on her lap.

      ‘It’s kind of you to consider me normal,’ she said, flipping him a grin, hoping the levity might go some way to smoothing out the sudden weird tension between them.

      He gave a gentle snort, as if to acknowledge her pathetic attempt at humour.

      Why had she never recognised his behaviour as grief before? Now she knew to look for it, it was starkly discernible in the deep frown lines in his face and the haunted look in his eyes.

      But she’d been so caught up in her own private universe of problems she hadn’t even considered why Max seemed so bitter all the time.

      She’d thought he had everything.

      How wrong she’d been.

      They sat in silence for a while, the only sound in the room the soothing tick-tock of the carriage clock on the mantelpiece, like a steady heartbeat in the chaos.

      ‘How did she die?’ Cara asked eventually. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t be keen to revisit this conversation and she wanted to have all the information from this point onwards so she could avoid any future blunders.

      The familiarity of the question seemed to rouse him. ‘She had a subarachnoid haemorrhage—it’s where a blood vessel in the brain bursts—’ he added, when she frowned at him in confusion. ‘On our one-year wedding anniversary. It happened totally out of the blue. I was late for our celebration dinner and I got a phone message saying she’d collapsed in the restaurant. By the time I got to the hospital she had such extensive brain damage she didn’t even recognise me. She died two weeks later. I never got to say goodbye properly.’ He snorted gently. ‘The last thing I said to her before it happened was “Stop being such a nag; I won’t be late,” when I left her in bed that morning and went to work.’

      Cara had to swallow past the tightness in her throat before she could speak. ‘That’s why you didn’t want me to leave here with us on bad terms.’ She put a hand back onto his arm and gave it an ineffectual rub, feeling completely out of her depth. ‘Oh, Max, I’m so sorry. What a horrible thing to happen.’

      He leant back against the cushions, breaking the contact of her touch, and stared up at the ceiling. ‘I often wonder whether I would have noticed some signs if I’d paid more attention to her. If I hadn’t been so caught up with work—’

      She couldn’t think of a single thing to say to make him feel better—though maybe there wasn’t anything she could say. Sometimes you didn’t need answers or solutions; you just needed someone to listen and agree with you about how cruel life could be.

      He turned to look at her, his mouth drawn into a tight line.

      ‘Look, Cara, I can see that you wanting to help comes from a good place. You’re a kind and decent person—much more decent than I am.’ He gave her a pained smile, which she returned. ‘I’ve been on my own here for so long I’ve clearly become very selfish with my personal space.’ He rubbed a hand across his brow. ‘And this was Jemima’s house—she was the one who chose how to decorate it and made it a home for us.’ He turned to make full eye contact with her again, his expression apologetic. ‘It’s taking a bit of adjusting to, having someone else around. Despite evidence to the contrary, I really appreciate the thoughtful gestures you’ve made.’

      His reference to her gestures only made the heavy feeling in her stomach worse.

      ‘I’m really sorry, Max. I can totally understand why you’d find it hard to see me meddling with Jemima’s things. I think I was so excited by the idea of living in such a beautiful house that I got a bit carried away. I forgot I was just a visitor here and that it’s your home. That was selfish of me.’

      He shook his head. ‘I don’t want you to feel like that. While you’re here it’s your home, too.’

      She frowned and turned away to stare down at the floor, distracted for a moment by how scratty and out of place her old slippers looked against the rich cream-coloured wool carpet.

      That was exactly the problem. It wasn’t her home and it never would be. She didn’t really fit here.

      For some reason that made her feel more depressed than she had since the day she’d left her last job.

      ‘Have you had any luck with finding a flat to rent?’ he asked, breaking the silence that had fallen like a suffocating layer of dust between them.

      ‘Not yet, but I have an appointment to view somewhere tomorrow and there are new places coming up all the time. I’ll find something soon, I’m sure of it,’ she said, plastering what must have been the worst fake smile she’d ever mustered onto her face.

      He nodded slowly, but didn’t say anything.

      Twitching with discomfort now, she stood up. ‘I should go.’

      He frowned at her in confusion. ‘What do you mean? Where are you going?’

      ‘Back to Sarah’s. I think that would be best.’

      Standing up, too, he put out a hand as if to touch her, but stopped himself and shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans instead.

      ‘Look, don’t leave. I promise to be less of an ogre. I let my anger get the better of me, which was unfair.’

      ‘I don’t know, Max—’ She couldn’t stay here now. Could she?

      Obviously seeing the hesitation on her face, he leant forward and waited until she made eye contact. ‘I like having you around.’ There was a teasing lightness in his expression that made her feel as if he was finally showing her the real Max. The one who had been hiding inside layers of brusque aloofness and icy calm for the past few weeks.

      Warmth pooled, deep in her body. ‘Really? I feel like I’ve made nothing but a nuisance of myself since I got here.’

      He СКАЧАТЬ