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“So, tell me about you,” he says, setting down his glass.
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Everything.” His smile crinkles the corners of his eyes. “Have you lived in Manchester your whole life?”
“I grew up in Adlington. About forty minutes out of the city. What about you?”
“Manchester born and raised. Grew up in Eccles. Pretty traditional upbringing, as far as things go. Mum, dad, me and my little sister. My folks still live there in the same house I grew up in, but my sister moved out to the Lake District. She’s married, got two kids, a dog, great big plot of land. I mainly see her at the holidays, but I pop into my folks’ from time to time, see how they’re getting on.”
“How comeyou’renot married?” The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Sorry,” I say instantly, looking away in embarrassment.
“No, it’s fine,” he says, his warm laugh reassuring me as I slowly look back at him.
“I don’t really know.” He leans casually against the back of his seat. “I haven’t had all that many serious relationships. My last one was over ten years ago. She wanted to settle down, get married, have kids, but Ijust… wasn’t there. I’d just had a big promotion at work and that was my focus. So, I told her that, and she left. Fair enough.”
I nod and look down at my hands, thinking of all the times I’ve had to stay late at work and hadn’t seen him leave.Does he want marriage and kids at all?The question burns in my mind, but I hold back.
“What about you? Do you have any siblings?” he asks.
“Nope.” I take another sip. “My mum died when I was three and dad never remarried, so it was just me and him.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t even remember her. And anything I think I do remember is probably just stories I’ve been told about her, more than actual memories.”
Marcus nods thoughtfully. “Are you and your dad close?”
“We were, sort of,” I say. “Growing up… he drank a lot…”
I take a deep breath and look out the window as my chest tightens painfully.
“I… uh…”
Marcus squeezes my hand reassuringly. “It’s okay.”
I drop my head, breathing deep, the warmth of his hand radiating a sense of calm through my soul.
Looking up at him, his eyes are glowing in a way that moves something within me. It’s as if he’s silently telling me he’s here for me.
“He died when I was sixteen.”
Marcus closes his eyes but doesn’t let go of my hand. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, blinking back tears. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
He says nothing, just holds my hand warmly in both of his.
“I’ve got my grandma Cassie though,” I say, slightly more upbeat as I push the memories back. “She took me in after Dad died, and I stayed with her until I finished school. She’s amazing. I still see her at least once a month.”
Marcus smiles so tenderly, my heart melts. “That’s good.”
“Yea. She makes the best Greek keftedes. You’ll have to try them sometime,” I blurt, then instantly panic as I hear the words come out of my mouth.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the fuck is wrong with me? I just basically said I want him to meet my grandma! He’ll think I’m completely insane. Fuck, fuck, fu-”
“I’d love that,” he says, interrupting my thought spiral with a squeeze of my hand.
I blink.