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Adam

We’ve said goodbye, but it’s tempting to join Sophie in the shower.

.. I’ll nuzzle her neck and make her laugh, enjoying feeling her naked body mould against mine.

I won’t be able to stop kissing her, making up for the time we’ve missed.

How have I managed to get through almost ten years without her?

We’ve arranged to take Wren to an agricultural show tomorrow instead of a beach walk later, but now I regret the change in plans.

Not being able to hold Sophie in my arms for another twenty-four hours seems impossibly hard.

She makes me complete, as if the Mobius strip has finished its final, most important loop.

I hover in the doorway of the bathroom, debating whether to jump in with her, but reluctantly step back.

Making things right with Wren and Mum can’t wait.

I pull on my T-shirt and shorts, which I’d snatched up when we retreated upstairs, and find a pen and notepad on the bedside table.

I draw our symbol, add a love heart, and leave it on her pillow.

I check my phone messages as I head out the door and run down the stairs.

My vision’s blurry after losing one contact lens while running and removing the other.

Squinting, I open a WhatsApp from Mum, miss my step and fall forward. My stomach plummets, rollercoaster-style. I grab for the rail, hanging on one-handed, as my feet leave the step. I manage to right myself in time.

Bloody hell!

The stairs are uncarpeted, and the hallway is tiled. I could have landed badly and smashed my skull. If I were a cat, I’d have used up my nine lives.

I sit on the bottom step, shakily, and check Mum’s messages.

Wren’s stopped crying. I’ve reassured her we *both* want and love her very much. She seems much happier. She’s shown me photos of Chico on her phone. She also let me look at the lovely pictures of you, Sophie and her at the zoo and surfing party. Love Mum xx

It’s followed with:

Gone to beach with Wren and the dogs for a walk now rain’s stopped. Planning to take her out for lunch and shopping. Won’t be back until later this afternoon. You’ll have plenty of time to think about what to say to her.

I reply: Thanks, Mum. Sorry for everything xx

Another message from her arrives:

I’m sorry too. I’ll support you whatever your decision re Stanford. I want you and Wren to be happy. Mum xx

‘Is everything okay, Adam? I heard a bang!’

Sophie is standing at the top of the stairs, wrapped in a towel and frowning worriedly. Her wet hair drips down her shoulders.

‘Actually, I think it is! That was my mum. She’s taken Wren out for the day so there’s no rush to get back.’

She raises an eyebrow, dropping her towel. ‘In that case – what are you waiting for?’

Desire shoots across my stomach as she darts back to the bedroom.

This time I trip up the stairs in my eagerness to reach her.

We head into the village for coffee and croissants before I run home.

Shyly, I reach for Sophie’s hand, and her fingers lace between mine, fitting perfectly.

She wants to take things slowly, and this could be a one-time thing or, technically, a three-time thing.

It’s too soon to think about our future, according to her, although different scenarios are running through my mind and they all involve us being together.

I was trying to sound her out earlier, because my email to Dr Hunt weighs heavily on my mind.

What if I am offered the position at Stanford?

I’ve spent years thinking and dreaming about Sophie, and fate – or rather a patchwork quilt – has reunited us.

Am I prepared to walk away from this chance to restart our relationship?

Would Sophie follow me to the US after such a short time?

What about Mum and Wren? Mum’s putting on a brave face, but she’ll be gutted about seeing less of her granddaughter, and Wren will be distraught.

I’ll be letting down my pupils and teaching colleagues mid-term.

However, if I don’t go back to Stanford, I’ll betray my dad’s memory.

The research post might never materialise. I could avoid upsetting Sophie unnecessarily and wait to discover the board’s verdict. But deep down, I know I mustn’t put off revealing something potentially life-changing again.

I stop before we reach the high street and turn to face her. ‘You asked me where you fit into my life.’

‘And you made a rude comment!’

‘I want you to know that when... if you decide you want us to become an item, I’ll make space for you in my life with Wren... wherever we are.’

She frowns. ‘How do you mean, wherever you are ?’

I wait for an elderly man to pass, stepping closer to the wall.

‘My supervisor was blown away by your geometric shape... He asked me to write a bid for a research post. If it’s approved by the board on Monday, I could be offered a full-time position in the department to investigate it further on campus.’

‘You’re planning to go back to Stanford?’ Her voice sounds strangled, and her hand slips from mine.

‘No, this is early days,’ I say carefully. ‘They may not offer... I don’t know whether I’ll accept if they do. I have to think about Wren and my mum... You too.’

‘That’s why you wanted to know earlier where we stand? Because you’re seriously considering this?’

‘ If they green-light the proposal, I’ll have to decide. But I’ve changed, Sophie, I swear. I’m not holding things back the way I did when we were teenagers. I’m being 100 per cent honest and upfront about everything that’s going on in my life.’

She stares at me. ‘I get that it would be great for your career. But will it make you happy?’

I’m racked with fresh doubts. Is this what I want, when I’ve begun to enjoy teaching? And being a dad, most of all? Or am I stuck on the treadmill of academia, unable to climb off completely?

‘I’d hate you to go back because you think it’s what your dad would want,’ she continues when I don’t reply.

I run a hand through my hair. ‘Aagh. It’s not that simple about Dad... You don’t understand.’

‘Make me.’

I flinch. I haven’t confessed this to anyone, not even my mum.

‘Adam? Tell me.’

I take a deep breath, nudging a stone with my trainer.

‘When Dad was dying, I flew back from the States to say goodbye before it was too late. He was flitting in and out of consciousness... Anyway, he managed to hold my hand and say how proud he was... that he could go to his grave happy, knowing I was on course to get my PhD and become a Stanford professor. He asked me to promise that I would get there eventually... I wanted to make him happy, so I gave him my word.’

Sophie’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘And you think you’ve betrayed him by leaving to look after Wren? That you need to return, at whatever cost, to fulfil your promise?’

‘No.’ I hesitate before deciding to tell the truth. ‘It sounds crazy, but yeah.’

‘Did your dad tell you he loved you before he died?’ she asks bluntly.

Her question knocks the wind out of me. I turn away to hide the tear that creeps into the corner of my eye, but she catches my hand and forces me to look at her.

She waits for me to speak. She’s the only person I can be this vulnerable with, my most exposed.

It feels like I’m back in the shallows, dripping with blood after our first surfing lesson.

‘Afterwards, I whispered those three words in his ear. I waited, thinking he’d say them back, but his breathing got worse.’ I rub my neck, glancing down. ‘He lost the chance... That’s if he ever wanted to tell me...’

‘Oh, Adam! I’m sorry.’ Sophie wraps her arms around me.

I cry into her shoulder, not caring that a woman stares as she gets into her car.

‘I want you to be happy,’ she says, her voice breaking. ‘Wren too. If returning to the US is what you want, I’ll support you.’

Mum sent the same message earlier and I realise my luck at having two such wonderful, strong women in my life. I close my eyes and hug Sophie closer.

‘But you have to do this for the right reason,’ she adds. ‘It’s your life, not your dad’s. You can’t keep trying to please a ghost.’