‘Yes, I did. I’ve been doing some thinking and…well, we left a lot of things unsaid and I just wanted to tell you something.’ He nodded her on. Tie up the loose ends, why not? Be cool, dispassionate. It was only his heart after all. Nothing of any value.
‘I care about you, Matt.’ Tears glistened in her eyes and the weight on his chest grew heavier. ‘I know that it can’t work between us, but I couldn’t bear to let you go without telling you.’ She seemed to rally herself, wiping the back of her hand across her eye. ‘I hope that what’s happened won’t stop the work that we started from continuing.’
So this really was the end between them. He had expected it, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. He reached for the coffee pot that stood unheeded between them and then changed his mind. He’d be home soon, he would have coffee there.
‘I’d like that, too. Sandra Allen’s as enthusiastic about the project as I am and she’s got more time to devote to it.’ He’d make sure Sandra got all the time she needed, so that he could take a back seat.
She nodded. ‘Yes, I’d like that. I guess it would be a bit awkward the way it was, with just you and me…’ She trailed off, reddening, and Matt’s heart banged against his ribs. She was having just as much difficulty dealing with this as he was.
‘Allie and the others won’t suffer either. I was serious when I offered them my help.’
‘I never doubted that.’ Her eyes seemed to soften a little. ‘I was going to say that I hope in the future some time we might still be friends. I…I’ve become very fond of Jack and it would break my heart to think that I might not see him again.’
A feeble warmth threaded softly through his veins. ‘We’ll always be friends, Beth. And you and Jack can see each other whenever you want.’ A thought struck him. ‘He’s getting a mobile phone from his grandparents—why don’t I give him your number so he can text or call you?’
She brightened visibly. ‘I’d love that. Thank you. Will you give him my number?’
‘I’ll put it into his contacts list. Or just let him do it, he seems a lot more proficient with these things than I am.’
She choked on her reply and another tear rolled down her cheek. This time she reached for the coffee pot to cover her discomfiture, tilting it towards his cup.
Matt shook his head. ‘I should go. I’m dead tired and I need to get home.’
‘Yes. Of course.’
It wasn’t much of a parting, but at least they had been adults about it. No one was going to get caught in the fallout and they were still managing to be civil with each other. It was better like this.
She followed him into the hallway, and he let himself out, closing the door gently behind him. H
e could go home now, get some sleep and settle back into his well-ordered life. As he thumbed the remote, unlocking his car doors, he saw the curtains in the sitting room twitch closed, obscuring the lights of the Christmas tree inside.
Despite herself, Beth had run upstairs, hoping irrationally for a last glimpse of him as he drove away. But he hadn’t. He’d been sitting out there in his car for fifteen minutes, and now he was striding back up her front path.
The doorbell rang. And rang. She tried to ignore it, but the feedback from her hearing aid was pinging through her head insistently. He only took his thumb off the bell when she marched downstairs and flung the door open.
‘I thought that we were going to be adults about this.’ She was quivering with rage, her cheeks tight from half-dried tears.
‘Let’s not.’
Something sparked, deep down inside her. She was still angry, but there was another emotion driving her now.
Something savage and sweet that didn’t back off from her desperate need for him. It had taken every last piece of courage she had to offer him the easy way out. If he didn’t want to take it then so be it.
‘Fine. That’s just fine with me.’ She moved back from the front door, waving him inside and almost slamming it behind him.
‘I know that you won’t be like Mariska—’ He tried to reason with her but she interrupted him.
‘I think that’s pretty much established, Matt. No, I’ll never be like Mariska. I’m a deaf woman. My father’s deaf, my brother’s deaf and if I were ever to have children then they could well be deaf, too. But you know what? I’m happy with that and anyone who doesn’t like it can go and take a running jump.’
‘You’re missing the point, Beth. Whoever said there was anything wrong with you, or your children or any of your family? And whoever said that being like Mariska was supposed to be a good thing?’
‘Well, you’ll have to help me out here, Matt, because I don’t understand. What exactly do you expect from me?’
The tension seemed to drain out of him, and he took a step forward, laying his hand on her arm. ‘Beth. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.’ It wasn’t until he said it that she realised that tears were streaming down her cheeks. ‘I just want to talk. Really talk, I mean. Won’t you give me a chance?’
This was exactly what she had tried to avoid. ‘What, so you can give me your list of reasons why you don’t want me? I’ve heard it all before, Matt, and trust me—if you do that to me now, I’ll brain you with the Christmas tree.’
‘Fair enough.’ Something flashed in his eyes. ‘What will you do to me if I give you the list of all the things about you that drive me to me knees with longing?’