Page 24 of Merry & Bright

“Quin.”

I didn’t move. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Rob. I needed the cold hard glass of the passenger window against my temple, grounding me.

I wasn’t planning on saying anything more, so it was as much of a surprise to me as to Rob when I blurted, “I can’t expect anyone else to like me when I don’t even like myself, can I?”

“Oh, Quin,” Rob said, and this time he sounded sad. I felt the sudden warmth of his hand stroking my shoulder, just a brief touch before he withdrew, but comforting for all that.

And right then, in that moment—I decided.

“I’m going to leave,” I said. I blinked. My own words had surprised me, even though it was where my thoughts had been leading just before Rob stopped the car.

“Leave where?” Rob asked. He sounded—careful. “Manchester?”

I shook my head. “Quicks,” I clarified. Then, after a brief, terrifying pause, “Probably the whole consulting game. I’m not sure it’s good for me.”

“In what way?”

I admitted the truth, though I could only manage to do so in a whisper. “I think it brings out the worst in me.”

I risked a look at him then. He was watching me, his expression calm, with just a touch of concern.

“It’s not as if my dream in life was to be a management consultant,” I said.

He smiled at that. “What was your dream?”

I gave a short laugh. “You won’t believe me when I tell you.”

His smile deepened. “Try me.”

“A maths teacher,” I admitted. “Can you imagine it? Me, working with teenagers?”

He canted his head to the side and considered me. “I can, actually. You’re very good at breaking complex things down, explaining them simply. I think you’d be a good teacher.”

The simplenicenessof that made me sort of crumple up inside, gratitude mingling with embarrassment and maybe a touch of incredulity. I wanted to believe him but somehow I couldn’t be sure he was being sincere.

Why was hope so painful? “The kids would probably hate me,” I said huskily.

“Sarky bastard like you?” he replied, mouth quirking up to one side. “Nah, they’d love you.” He paused then asked, “Is that what you did your degree in? Mathematics?”

I turned to him fully, shifting in my seat so that my body faced him. “Yeah. I was all set to start teacher training after graduation but one of my friends dragged me along to a recruitment fair and persuaded me to apply for a consulting job—I wasn’t seriously expecting an offer, but when I got one, I decided to take it. I had a lot of student loans by then so the thought of earning rather than racking up even more debt was too tempting to pass by.” I shrugged. “I’d only planned to do it for a couple of years, but I guess I got used to the job. And the money, of course.”

“Could you give the money up now?” Rob asked. “If you decide to move to teaching, you’ll be facing a massive salary drop.”

I thought about that. About the disposable income accruing in my account month on month because I had no time to spend it. “Yeah, I could give it up,” I said, the cogs in my brain beginning to turn as I examined the idea. “My mortgage is modest and my flatmate gives me rent. And it’s not as if I have a husband or kids who depend on me. I’m pretty sure I could afford to do the year’s training without needing to take out any debt.”

A tiny thread of excitement came to life inside me and I had to bite my lip against a sudden smile, not wanting to betray how much this new idea suddenly meant to me. “I could do it.”

“You could,” Rob agreed softly, his gaze on me. He’d parked outside one of the more heavily decorated houses we’d seen. A life-size reindeer made of thousands of lights stood sentinel in the front garden, glowing first red then gold then green, then cycling back to red. The changing colours glowed inside the car, illuminating Rob’s face—mine too, presumably—like traffic lights.

Stop, wait, go.

“Quin.” This time Rob didn’t so much say it, as breathe it, and I watched, mesmerised as he lifted his hand and touched my face, fingertips just grazing my skin. Our eyes met as the pad of his thumb swept across my cheekbone. Such a simple, tender gesture. I didn’t know what to do or say. All I could do was stare at him and wait for what came next.

“I like you,” he said finally. “I’ve always liked you. Even when you were being a dick.”

“Yeah?” My voice sounded as shaky as I felt.

“Yeah,” he confirmed with a half-smile. “Not that you ever noticed me.”