She flinches. ‘I am sorry.’
I hear her. I feel her. But the anger I’ve been suppressing overflows like a shaken champagne bottle with the cork shot off.
‘Why be sorry? My parents often came and went without so much as a hello, let alone a goodbye, so why would it matter that you treated me the same?’
She pales in the candlelight, her gasp barely audible. ‘I’m not—I didn’t...’
‘You didn’t think it was the same? That I wouldn’t be accustomed to it?’
‘Edward...’
She wets her lips. Her fingers reach across the table but I ignore them. I also ignore the pained look in her eyes and press on.
‘Or maybe it never even occurred to you? I’m not sure which is worse—to know me as well as you did, to know of my estranged relationship with my parents like you did, and then to walk away without it even occurring to you...’
Her eyes are wide, her shock so very evident that I have my answer, and it cripples me inside. ‘Just leave it, Summer.’
‘But I—God, Edward, I’m so sorry. I’d never... I’m nothing like your parents.’
‘I’ll be honest: I expected more from you. I was foolish enough to think—’
No, don’t go there.It doesn’t pay to bring it up now, when Gran’s intentions are so bloody obvious she might as well have employed a matchmaking agency to stand over us.
‘But you’re right. It doesn’t pay to dwell on it. The past is the past.’
‘You don’t understand, Edward. I couldn’t say goodbye to you. It’s not because I didn’t care, or that I didn’t want to, I just... I couldn’t. I’ve never been good at goodbyes, and saying goodbye to you back then...’
She stops talking, and for the briefest of seconds I see a glimpse of the girl she was. Confident and carefree on the surface...broken and afraid underneath.
‘I just couldn’t do it.’
My jaw throbs. I want to ask her why. I want to demand a reason that will justify the pain she inflicted. But I’m not that twenty-two-year-old desperate for answers any more. I’m past all that—I am. And raking over it is only going to confuse the here and now.
Make you vulnerable to her again, you mean.
‘Apology accepted.’
She stares at me. ‘Is it, though? You don’t sound like—’
‘I’m a man of my word, Summer. If I say it is, then it is.’
She nods, but her doubt is as obvious as her eyes are blue. Hell, maybe I’m not so sure myself.
But I want to accept her apology.
I want to not care about any of it any more.
Because caring about it is one step away from caring about her all over again. And I won’t go there. I won’t.
‘I hadn’t—I never even thought about your parents...’ she admits softly. ‘How my leaving might have...’ She shakes her head. ‘I was so focused on how I felt I didn’t...’
‘I said leave it, Summer.’ Her sympathy is crushing me, tearing me apart. ‘Now eat—before it goes cold.’
She doesn’t move.
‘Look, it’s done with. You’ve apologised. Now eat, Summer. Please.’
She gives me a hesitant smile, clearly wanting to believe my words as much as I do myself. ‘Yes, boss.’