Page 67 of The Surrender

“Is your father still trying to get you back together with Nick?”

“No.” Total lie. “Will you slow down?” The car immediately decelerates, and I watch out the corner of my eye as Jude flexes his hands around the wheel. “You’re as unexpected to them as you were to me.” My voice is soft. Almost pleading. “It just needs some time.”

“And they don’t know why we split up?”

“No. They don’t need to.”

“And will your dad tell Nick about us?”

“I’ve asked him not to. I should do that myself, but it’s still raw. I want to give it some time for him to—”

“Fall out of love with you?”

“I don’t love him,” I say, making that clear. “Can we stop talking about my ex and my dysfunctional family now?”

Jude seems to take a breath, reaching for my knee and squeezing. “I’m sorry. You’re right, best to leave things to settle.”

And how long willthattake?

As Jude helps me out of the Ferrari, Anouska comes running out of Arlington Hall, her silky black hair wafting behind her, and practically drags Jude away, leaning up to talk quietly in his ear. I slowly pull my bag onto my shoulder, inevitably interested. She passes him something and then waves at me fleetingly before hurrying back inside.

“Is everything okay?” I ask. Jude doesn’t answer. Instead, he takes my hand and pulls me along the line of parked cars. “Where are we going?” I want to kick my heels off and splatter on his bed, hopefully with him on top of me. “Jude,” I breathe when he remains silent.

He eventually stops and takes me by the shoulders, turning me to face him. I give him an expectant look. He gives me a shy smile. “I got you another gift.” He holds something up, and it takes me a moment to register what. A key fob. And I’m not exactly in the know about cars, but I do recognise the logo on it.

I move my eyes to his, my disbelief real. “You bought me a car?”

He sweeps his arm out, indicating the shiny grey car next to us.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, staring at the Jaguar. “You bought methiscar?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” I look at the registration plate. “Jude, it’s a brand-new Jaguar F-Type!”

“Do you like it?” he asks, clicking the fob, making it flash and beep. He goes to the driver’s door and opens it, revealing crisp new black leather.

“It’s gorgeous,” I breathe, at a loss. “But I can’t accept this.”

His face falls, and I hate myself for it. “Why?”

“Because . . . because . . .”

“Because, because, because?”

“Because . . .”

“See, there’s no reason.” He directs me to the driver’s seat and helps me down. “Suits you.”

I stare at the wheel, smell the new interior. “Jude, I don’tnothave a car because I can’t afford one,” I say, looking up at him leaning on the door. “I just don’t need one. I live in the city. I get the Tube or walk.”

“But now you have a boyfriend who lives in a different county, and I’m getting nagged by the transport manager for constantly reserving one of the cars for you.”

“But . . .” I look around me. “But . . .”

He crouches by the side of the car, taking my hand, and I pout at him, knowing I’m not going to convince him that I don’t need this car. “It’s just a car, Amelia. Besides, you can’t be a top financial planner and ride the Tube. Look at it as a belated birthday gift.”

I laugh, letting him guide my hands to the wheel. “The pen was enough.”