Page 152 of Pretty Mess

“The weekend.” He holds up a hand. “No sex. I just wanted to take you somewhere nice to show you how proud of you I am.”

“You are?” I breathe.

He nods. “Immensely.” He takes a breath. “So, what do you think?”

I consider him. He pushes his hair back, and I notice a slight tremor in his hand.

I should say no. I should be building my life back up into some sort of normal and leaving this strange relationship behind. But the truth is I can’t. I can’t leave him behind. It’s impossible. So I nod and hear myself saying, “Yes, I’d love that.”

His whole face lights up, and he springs to unlock the door. “That’s wonderful. Get in, and I’ll drive you back to your flat to pack.”

“You haven’t done it for me?”

He shakes his head. “No, those days are gone. It’s free will all the way from now on.”

“Don’t you know?” I ask.

He raises an eyebrow.

I say, “It wasalwaysthat, Mac.”

I come awake with a start. “Ungh,” I mutter, trying to unglue my eyes and hearing a low chuckle from beside me. My eyes shoot open, and I turn to see Mac. He’s driving, his hands easy and sure on the wheel.

I look around. We’re on a country lane with low stone walls threaded with wildflowers. Fields spread out on either side, and the last rays of the sun gild them like they were made of gold dust. The air smells sweet from the hawthorn lining the road.

“Where are we?” I croak, struggling up.

“Norfolk.”

“That’s lovely. I’ve never been here before.”

I’m covered in something, and I pluck at the fabric. I realise it’s his jacket just as he says, “You were cold, so I covered you.”

“Thank you.” I’m ridiculously touched. He’s given me so much, but somehow, this feels more.

He smiles. “Don’t mention it. You woke up just in time.”

“For what?”

He gestures. “The sea.”

The car crests a hill, and I catch my breath at the sight before me. The sea spreads out as far as I can see, twinkling like it has sunbeams trapped in the waves. “Ohwow!” I breathe.

He shoots me a smile. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“So lovely.” I look back at him. “I’m so sorry I fell asleep.”

“Why?”

“Well, I haven’t been entertaining you.”

“You’ve always done that, Wes.”

“Have I?”

He nods. “You have always had my attention right from the start.”

“And is that a good thing?” I ask, holding my breath for his answer.