Calling Me Back (5 page)

“What? I have a month to work out if I want to marry you?” I asked.

“Yes, we have to put a time frame on this or . . .”

“And if I decide I don’t want to get married?”

“I don’t know.” She sounded tired. “I guess that’s it. These things are important to me. It’s what I want from my life, a family, and if you can’t give that to me then . . .”

She didn’t have to finish. I understood. I had a month until my life changed forever, whatever decision I made.

Ashleigh

Richard looked at me across the table, his eyes narrowing slightly. We were in his favorite French restaurant. It was a little masculine for my taste—dark, with oak paneling and almost black wood floors—but Richard was greeted like an old friend here, which he liked. The waiters fussed over us and nothing was too much trouble. Sometimes it felt as if we were dining with the staff as well as each other.

“It was nice to meet Luke,” he finally said.

I’d been waiting for him to mention our run in. Had he seen us holding hands? I nodded and took another spoonful of my soup to avoid responding to him.

“I didn’t realize you were meeting him for lunch.”

I swallowed. Was he pissed off? “It was a last minute thing. Haven, Luke and I all grew up together. I told you that.”

“Yeah. You’re still very close,” he said.

I wasn’t sure if it was a question or an observation, so I kept silent, concentrating on my soup.

“It’s nice,” he added.

“It is. We’re like a little family.”

He nodded and smiled a wide, generous smile. He wasn’t jealous, apparently. He seemed to like whatever made me happy. He wanted what was good for me and that felt nice, healthy.

“How was work?”

“Good. I’m getting used to things now.” Richard hadn’t been at the hospital I worked at long. “Megan’s been showing me the ropes.”

“Megan?” I asked.

“Yeah, Megan Fable.” He rolled his eyes and grinned.

Yeah, I bet she was. Megan was a notorious flirt and desperate to land a doctor. She had no end of male attention, but somehow she’d never managed to get serious with anyone.

“That’s good,” I said. “I’m glad you’re settling in.”

“She’s a bit of a flirt. I mean, wow.”

I laughed. “A little bit.”

“She’s a pretty girl, but not my type.”

I realized he was heading off any jealousy I might have if I found out they were working together. It was a kind thing to do. I smiled at him. “She’s very pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you.”

“Richard.” I wasn’t used to all this flattery.

“What? It’s true. You’re gorgeous.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” I blushed. I was as terrible at giving compliments as I was at receiving them.

“Are you playing rugby tomorrow?” I asked, changing the subject. Richard played for the hospital team.

“Yeah and it’s a big night. You can come along if you like.”

I liked watching rugby. Luke used to make Haven and I watch when we were younger, and it wasn’t a hardship seeing all the super-fit men in tight shorts get dirty and sweaty. “And be the only girl amongst you lot? I wouldn’t get out alive.”

“That’s true. One of them would be bound to steal you away from me. I take it back. You can’t come tomorrow.”

I laughed. He was sweet.

“You have a beautiful smile,” he said, grinning at me.

“Thank you,” I replied, trying to be a bit more gracious about his compliment than before.

“Yeah, that dress suits you. But everything looks good on you.” My cheeks started to heat. Partly from his words, and partly because I was embarrassed that I was thinking about Luke saying at lunch that I looked good in everything. Had he meant that? Did he think I was attractive? I hadn’t had much time to change when I got home, so I’d just pulled on the nearest thing and put on some makeup. I never wore makeup to work.

“Are you going to Haven’s on Sunday?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s my turn to cook. We used to alternate venues, but now it’s mainly at Haven and Jake’s because they have such an awesome kitchen. But we still take turns cooking.” I was looking forward to it. I loved to cook desserts, and I had a blueberry cheesecake in mind for tomorrow. I wanted Beth to give me her seal of approval. She was the best baker this side of the Atlantic.

“So if you’re cooking, does that mean you get to invite guests?” he asked.

My stomach lurched. I’d been insensitive to mention it and then not invite him. I just wasn’t sure I was ready. Luke would probably want to talk about Emma, and I wasn’t sure how that would affect me. If he announced that he was going to marry her, I was pretty sure I would want to excuse myself and take to my bed for a week. Having Richard there would . . . complicate things.

And anyway, it felt too early. Haven’s husband, Jake, had started coming to Sunday night dinners very quickly, but normally, casual boyfriends and girlfriends didn’t make an appearance. There wasn’t any rule about it, but that’s how it had always been. “I think Haven has some stuff going on that she wants to talk about, so I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to come along tomorrow. Maybe another time?”

“I’d like to meet your friends,” he said. “Perhaps we could have them over to your place one Sunday. I could help you cook.”

I nodded and concentrated on pulling apart my bread.

“What about next weekend?” he asked.

“I don’t think it’s happening. Haven’s away, I think.” I was lying, and I wasn’t quite sure why. All I knew was I wasn’t ready to introduce him to my family yet.

“Okay, so we should go away for a weekend then. Maybe the Lake District?” he asked.

“That sounds really nice.” I meant it. I did like Richard, and I enjoyed spending time with him. He was kind and attentive, and he liked me. Maybe a little distance from London and Luke would be what I needed.

Luke

“Did I interrupt anything?” I asked Haven as she opened the door to her flat. I’d arrived early for Sunday dinner. I wanted to speak to her about Emma.

“No, just honeymooners having wild sex on every surface. That’s all.”

“Lalalala,” I sang as I covered my ears, following her down the hallway. “Stop it. Or I’m not going to be able to look at you, and we need to talk. Have you got a beer?” I asked as we stepped into the kitchen. I headed straight to the fridge. I rarely talked about relationship stuff with anyone. It had been more difficult to talk to Ash than I’d expected, though our brief discussion had helped. I now knew I couldn’t marry Emma just to keep her happy, as Ash had suggested. I had to want it. Hopefully, alcohol would help my words come easier.

“There are a few different kinds in there. I think Jake got you the one you like,” Haven said, stirring something in a bowl. Another good thing about my sister being married was that there was always beer at her place now. “I’m doing cheese straws.”

I took the lid off my drink and slumped onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. “Do you want a hand?” I asked.

“Ash is cooking. This is just for fun. You concentrate on telling me what’s going on with you and Emma.”

I drew my brows together. “How do you know I want to talk about me and Emma?”

“Because I’m psychic,” she replied. “And I know you. I know how you get when you’re unhappy.”

I scowled but she wasn’t looking, too focused on the pan in front of her. “You think I’m unhappy?”

“Are you telling me you’re not?”

I thought about it. How long did she think I’d been unhappy for? This was news to me. Before Emma voiced her desire to move things on in our relationship, I’d never seen us as unhappy together; I’d not thought I was miserable.

“Emma wants to get married,” I blurted out. Haven met my eyes. She rolled her lips together as if she were stopping words from tumbling out and slowly nodded.

“Don’t you have anything to say about that?” I was expecting a bigger reaction from her. I wanted to know if she was as concerned about breaking up our routine as I was.

“Well, do you want to marry her?”

I shrugged, focusing on the outside of the pan that Haven was holding, as if staring hard enough would give me x-ray vision, and I would be able to see what she was making. Did I want to get married? Married. It was such a weird word.
Married, married, married, married.
I just wanted things to be how they’d always been. So, no, I didn’t want to get married. My dilemma, as I saw it, was that either way, break up or get married, I ended up unhappy.

“You can’t be surprised,” Haven said, narrowing her eyes. That was the problem. I hadn’t been expecting it at all.

“Surprised at what?” Jake boomed from behind me.

“Emma wants to get married,” Haven said.

I rolled my eyes. There really were no secrets between these guys.

“She’s given me a month to decide, or I guess we’re over.” Things had seemed almost back to normal this morning. I’d gone for a run. She’d gone to the gym. I suppose things had been a little strained, but she wasn’t shouting, so I saw that as a move forward. But realistically Pandora’s box was now firmly open, and things were never going to go back to how they were.

“Sounds like she’s serious. And you don’t want to marry her?” Jake asked.

“Well that’s the question,” Haven said.

“No, not really,” I said. “I don’t see the point. But we’ve been a couple a long time and I love her, and as much as I can’t see us getting married, splitting up would be . . .” I’d not thought much of what my life would look like without her. I mean, we lived together. I’d have to move out for one thing, so that would be a huge change for me. And the mortgage was in both of our names, and we had a joint bank account. Our finances were intertwined.

“Sounds like you shouldn’t marry her,” Jake said simply, grabbing a beer from the fridge.

“How did you work that out?” I asked.

“I’d never really thought about marrying anyone before Haven. I didn’t understand it, didn’t see the point. Then I met her and boom—it was all I thought about. I wanted to do everything I could to tell the whole fucking world she was mine. I wanted to be able to call her my wife.”

I glanced at Haven; she was trying to suppress a grin, but her dancing eyes told me how much she was enjoying what he was saying.

“If you don’t feel like that, then you shouldn’t marry her,” Jake said, taking a seat on the barstool opposite Haven.

“But not everyone’s like you, Jake. What happens if I never feel like that about anyone? I mean, it hasn’t happened so far for me. And it only happened to you and Haven because you started working together. Emma would be a good choice, in a lot of ways. She’s a good girl.”

“I get it, but you have to figure out whether you’re prepared to settle. From what you’re saying, she’s just not the right girl for you.” Haven prodded Jake’s shoulder in semi-chastisement. “I’m not saying she’s not a great girl. I have no idea—I’ve only met her a few times. All I’m saying is if you’re not wanting to frog march her down the aisle then she’s not right for you.”

I took another swig of beer. I couldn’t believe I’d ever want to march down the aisle with anyone. “We get on. I’ve been with her a long time.”

“Jesus, if you have to talk yourself into marrying her then something’s not right.” Jake said. “You’d be desperate to get married if she was the right one.”

I wasn’t sure it was as easy as Jake seemed to think. I got that he adored Haven, and I wouldn’t have it any other way, but honestly, I didn’t think it worked that way for most people.

The intercom buzzed and Haven went to answer it.

I picked at the label on my beer bottle.

“You don’t need to be a shit to her about it,” Jake said. “You know the answer, and if she isn’t what you want, then you deserve to let her go and find someone else who wants her in the way she needs.”

My heart was tight at Jake’s words. His reaction hadn’t been what I expected. I’d thought he’d tell me how great being married was and how I should do it. I guess I was hoping he’d help me see the upside, because on my own? I was struggling. It wasn’t that he wasn’t making sense—that was the problem, he made it all very clear. I didn’t have the
urge
to marry Emma. And if marriage was what she wanted, maybe I should let her find it with someone else.