Page 32 of Too Good to Be True

“I will be with you in a few minutes.”

IN BED, I CAN’T stand still, and not because of the excitement I’m left with from his hands and kisses. Something is bothering me and Rowan realises this immediately.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong or would you rather keep sighing?”

“Am I making it loud?”

“Quite, yes.”

I think about it for a few seconds, then take courage. “I was wondering… What will happen when the trial is over?”

“What do you mean?”

“Should the judge decide to entrust the kids to us. Will we really get married so we can continue our… er… charade?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think about it. At that moment, I only thought about buying time, not about the future.”

Time, he says.

What about me? Haven’t you thought about me? What about our future?

“The judge will never entrust the kids to me, will he? To me alone, I mean.”

Rowan sighs heavily. “I don’t know, Seth.”

“We can’t continue to lie.”

“Let’s not think about that now. Let’s just focus on the final result.”

I rise and look at him. I can’t rely on him staying in our lives.

People like Rowan never stick around. They drain you and leave you longing and reminiscing, hoping for their return.

“I was thinking that maybe I should have interviews.”

“Mmm?”

“I should, you know, look for something more… Ordinary.”

“But you hate everything that is ordinary.”

Rowan tried to reason with me at first, and to offer me job interviews procured by him, but I was hesitant, and perhaps even a little na?ve. I thought I could convince the judge of my skills, but I was proven wrong almost immediately.

“It doesn’t matter what I hate or what I love.” You, dammit! I love you! Can’t you understand that? “What matters is what’s good for the kids.”

Rowan gives me a sad smile. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. Could you help me?”

“Of course.” He lifts a hand and slides it behind the back of my head. “I'll make a few phone calls.”

“Thank you.”

Ducking back down, Rowan kisses my hair. “You don’t have to worry, Seth. I’ve got you. Just trust me, okay?”

“You’re too good to be true and what’s more, you’re in my bed. Technically on my sofa, but that counts as a bed, right?”

“Stop it.”

“Why don’t you want me to tell you how beautiful you are? And I’m not just talking about your beautiful face, or your beautiful ass. Not to mention your abs and your arms…” I touch the arms in question. “Strong and powerful… What in the world are they?”

“Are you finished?”

“I’ve just started. I have not yet spoken of the most beautiful aspects of you. Your beautiful and very good heart. Your soul, your kindness and…”

Rowan moves between the covers to hold me close to him. His strong hand—which I have not mentioned before but only because its closeness confuses and intoxicates me—behind the nape of my neck, before his mouth presses sensual and moist on mine.

“I’m scared,” I confess to him.

“About what?”

Scared of losing the kids, losing you. Waking up tomorrow morning and realising that this was just a dream and that I will only be left trying to wipe my tears in vain.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Rowan strokes my hair and smiles at me. “Of course.”

“And will you give me an honest answer?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you really think the kids should be entrusted to me?”

Rowan wrinkles his forehead.

“I mean… You saw what a mess I am.”

“You’re just a little messed up. Nothing that can’t be improved.”

I smile weakly at him.

“Mark used to say that too.”

“That’s because he knew you well, he knew your potential.”

“He always believed that I could do anything.”

“And you, on the other hand, don’t think that at all.”

I think for a few moments, then slip out of his embrace and sit on the bed. I watch as he rises too.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t stop thinking about Mark, about his last words.”

“I thought he was unconscious…”

“He left me something.” I bite my lip, tense. “Something written.”

“What are you talking about?”

I get out of bed and reach into my bag, rummage inside and pull out the letter Mark left for me, clutching it tightly to my chest as I walk back to the bed. Then slowly I hand it to Rowan.

“What is it?”

“A letter Mark wrote for me a while ago. The solicitor who dealt with his will gave it to me.”

Rowan picks her up and observes it.

“I would like you to read it.”

His eyes shift to me. “Are you sure?”

I nod, anxious.

“OK.” Rowan slides the letter out of the envelope while I turn on the lamp.

“I always carry it with me,” I explain, his eyes following Mark’s words. “And I read it at least once a day. It gives me strength. And it helps me feel close to him.”

I remain silent to allow Rowan time to read Mark’s letter in peace. When he has finished, he wipes his eyes with his shirt and hands it to me again.

“Why did you want me to read it?”

I shrug.

Actually, I don’t know. Perhaps I am seeking confirmation of my brother’s words, hoping for someone to tell me that Mark was right and that the decision to leave his children in my care was the right one.

“He really loved you.”

I nod, my throat tight with tears.

“He trusted you completely.”

“I never understood why.”

Rowan gently wipes away my tears with his thumbs. “You must really miss him,” he says.

“You have no idea,” I reply.

“Come here.” Rowan pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around me, filling me with comfort and confidence. “I’m sure we could at least change the judge’s perspective, if not entirely eliminate his doubts.”

I quickly pull away from Rowan. “No.”

He looks confused. “I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t let you read the letter for this reason,” I say, placing the letter safely back in my bag.

“It’s something private. Personal.”

Rowan gets up and comes closer, his warm hands resting on my shoulders, gently encouraging me to face him.

“They are his last words to me. They are mine.”

“They could help.”

“I will not use something so intimate to win the case.”

“Seth…”

I release myself from his grip and go back to bed. “I am not going to change my mind. Please respect my decision.”

Rowan sighs heavily, then nods.

“Thank you.”

He also comes back to bed.

“I didn’t want to pressure you. I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does matter.” He lies and invites me to let go in his arms. “Come back to me, please. Let me hold you.”

I don’t let him tell me twice. I snuggle against his body and let him hold me.

“I am so sorry that you lost the most important person in your life.”

Warm tears moisten his chest where my head rests.

“And I know that nothing can ease this pain. But the kids love you. And then there’s Ross, and Mr Yang.

” I wait, holding my breath for him to tell me that there is him, too.

“You are not alone. And with time, you’ll see, you’ll be able to live with this wound.

” He pulls me a little tighter to him and places a kiss in my hair.

“Now, try to rest. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

I slip out of his embrace and turn on my side with my back to him, suddenly feeling more alone than ever.