Page 158 of Into the Dark
He reaches across the table again and takes both my hands in his. “Alex, I’ll live on the fucking moon if that’s where you want to go. I don’t care as long as you and my children are there.”
My heart. His children. I have to bite back the urge to burst into tears. Happy tears for a change. “Okay then.” I nod, squeezing his hand back. “But maybe not the moon.”
“Fine. Don’t think the weather’s great there anyway,” he says with a smile. A second later he’s thoughtful again, nibbling his lip furiously as he gazes at some point on the table. “What about California?” he says.
“What about it?”
“Your sister lives there. And you said you always wanted to bring up children over there.”
“Yes…I did say that.” My heart feels a little fluttery, my breath accelerating all over again.
“So…is that something you still want?” He watches me carefully, eyes very serious.
“Yes,” I practically shout. “It’s definitely something I still want. But I stopped thinking about it as a possibility after we met, I suppose because I didn’t think it was something you were interested in.” I frown at him. “I mean, what about Caleb and your club and…?”
“The club would be sorted,” he interjects. “What if there was a way for us to do it with Cale—would you want to?”
California. Sunshine. Our children. Jake. Half a world away from his past and the people who know his name and what it means. When did he start thinking about this? Why hasn’t he mentioned anything about it? A new life away from here. It makes so much sense.
“Yes, I would.” I nod, emotional again. My parents would be sad, Nick would be sad, and I’d miss Rob terribly, but I can’t live my life for other people anymore. Besides, Jake is my life now. Our child is my life now.
The emotional impact of the words punches me somewhere in the chest and wakes me up. This is a fantasy. Vicky would never allow this to happen. Never.
“Would you be happy there though,” he goes on “away from Rob and your family?”
“I mean, I’d miss them—of course I’d miss them—but they’d visit. And Tash is there.” Nights at Tash’s house. Wine and late-night chats. Cars packed with toys and clothes and weekend necessities as we make our way up or down the coast to their place. “Yes, I’d be happy. Would you?”
“I told you, you and my children are all I need to be happy,” he says. After what seems like hours but is surely only minutes, he lets out a breath, nods, and stands up from the dining table. He moves around it and leans down to kiss me on the cheek. “So we’ll make it happen then.” He says it as if it’s the most simple, achievable thing in the world. I know it isn’t, but I’m still smiling like an idiot when he kisses me again—on the mouth this time.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Soon you won’t need to worry about any of this shit anymore ’cause it will be done. Just a little longer, baby, okay? Then we’ll be gone.” As always, his words sound definitive and strong, and I completely believe them in the moment.
“Okay,” I say again.
He nods and lets go of my chin to head past me for the door. When he gets there, he stops and turns back around, remembering something. “Send me her number,” he says, eyes harder than they were a just second ago.
I’m so drunk from the swell of hope and happiness that I don’t know who he means right away.
“I’ll talk to her. I don’t want her contacting you again.”
When I realize who he’s talking about, I blink myself out of the daydream. I want to ask about his brother, but it’s not the time. He’ll talk to me about that when and if he’s ready.
“I’ll send you it.”
He nods, smiles again, and then he’s gone.
California.
I haven’t stopped thinking about it since the thing left his mouth. The word itself has taken on some sort of transformation in my mind so it means more than just a place; it’s now wrapped up in some votive purpose, a pilgrimage for some religious devotee. We’ll find happiness and enlightenment if we can just make it across the bloody Atlantic to the promised land. It’s dangerous for my mind to travel too far down this road before we’ve had a proper discussion that lasts for more than five minutes over breakfast, yet for most of the day I lose myself in the idea of our house on the cuff of the beach and our lives in the bleached Californian sun. Just “a little longer” and we’re going to raise our family in California. I feel lighter than I’ve felt in weeks. The dark, heavy cloud has burst apart and the sun’s streaming through it, warming me.
He’d be safe there too. Safe from repercussions and the twisted, unbreakable ties of his life before me. I’d thought about it before but cast it aside as pure fantasy. Now I see it for what it is: only conceivable solution.
I’m lost in a sea of Californian bliss as I grab a basket from the pile by the inside of the door. Waitrose is busy, Friday night shoppers grabbing the quickest meal option and the most accessibly priced bottle of wine just so they can get home and start their weekend. Tired bodies pushing past other tired bodies. Half-attempted apologies and exhausted smiles.
In the vegetable section I spot Mrs Knight perusing the red onions with the air of a jewel expert studying a blood diamond. I try my hardest to slip past her notice toward the lettuces, but I hear her call out my name an instant later, loud and uninhibited.
“Alex! Oh, Alex, hello!” she practically shrieks.