Page 52

Alex gritted her teeth. ‘I know.’

‘Like cancer.’

‘Not like cancer. You get cancer, you get treatment. He hasn’t. So it’s not the same, is it?!’ Alex realised she was yelling, and she was yelling at the wrong person. And that person was quietly sobbing. Alex felt fucking awful. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, no, it’s OK. I’m sure you’re right, and I’m being stupid. I guess it’s always been hard for me to accept who he is. Even now.’ She sniffled. ‘He wasn’t like this when we met. I guess I can’t let go of that man. Who he was at his best. I know that he’s still there, underneath it all.’

Alex wanted to scream at her mother. She wanted to call her a naïve idiot. But what was the point? Her mother was born without the ability to see who people were. She preferred the fantasy. Alex loved her mother but hated that part of her. Because she would get screwed over again and again. She was her own worst enemy, convinced she could save everyone. And she couldn’t even save herself.

Somehow, she was getting worse. Her mother had had no choice but to make her husband leave the house before he made her homeless with his addiction, and shestillcouldn’t accept he was beyond hope. Alex suspected that her mother secretly dreamed he’d change and come back, and it would be lovely again. She’d probably wait forever, and all because he’d pulled the wool over her eyes for ten minutes when they’d first met a few decades ago. Alex was sickened by the whole thing.

‘How much?’ Alex asked.

‘Four hundred,’ her mother said quietly.

‘I’ll transfer it later today.’

Her mother immediately started backtracking. ‘Actually, I shouldn’t have asked you; forget it—’

‘It’s fine, Mum,’ Alex said. But it wasn’t.

‘Thank you, Alex. I knew I could rely on you. You’re a good girl.’

‘Not really,’ Alex said.

‘What do you mean?’ her mother asked, shocked.

‘Nothing. Gotta go.’

Alex hung up the phone and sat down on the toilet seat for a pee. Her mind was awhirl. By the time she’d finished emptying her bladder, she’d come to a decision.

She crept back into Leigh’s room and placed the blanket across a chair. She found her clothes at the foot of the bed and put them on as quietly as possible. She went to the door and looked back at the girl who seemed to represent nothing but possibility. She whispered goodbye to her.

She left the house as the sun rose, and she let herself have a small cry about her choice on the walk home. It had seemed for a minute there like Alex was going to know what happiness was, and she was grieving that loss. But her choice was the right one. Because deep down, she’d always known she was her father’s child, and that her inheritance was selfishness. She wanted more than she had, and she’d do whatever it took to get it. It was who he was and who she was.

Not Leigh, though. Leigh was sensitive, too easy to hurt. Alex could only break her. Thank god her mother had reminded her of that. Alex couldn’t believe she’d let herself forget that love was a lie.

Twenty-Two

Things had taken a turn.

Whatever it was that Leigh thought she might get from this lunch was in the rearview. Now she wanted something else, and she was ready to demand it.

Leigh had been telling herself she was over that thing that had happened ten years ago because wasn’t she supposed to be? It was one night. Nothing in the grand scheme of a whole life.

But that wasn’t true. She’d thought she’d found someone special that night, only to realise she’d been tricked. Some part of her had never gotten over it. The wound should have healed, but sitting in this restaurant with Alex, she was bleeding freshly.

‘So. Why did you do that?’ Leigh asked, amazed at her own forthrightness. Maybe it was the wine, but she felt less timid.

‘What?’ Alex asked.

Leigh raised an eyebrow at her.

‘Oh.That. Do we need to talk about that? It was about a million years ago.’

‘It was, yes. But I just want to know… Look, I get it. You just wanted sex. But why would you take it thatfar?’ Leigh asked.

Alex appeared a little scared, a brand-new look on her. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked.