Page 12 of All the Things We Never Knew

I tried. ‘Get the fuck out of my car and…’

But I couldn’t.

‘Contact you when I get back to London?’ he suggested.

I nodded.

‘Laurel.’ He released my hands and, tenderly now, placed his on either side of my face, drawing me towards him. ‘You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in the longest time.’

I felt tears prickling my eyes behind my sunglasses. ‘Same.’

‘I’m a selfish bastard,’ he said, but his smile was tender. ‘But no matter what happens after this, I’m glad we had last night. I love you.’

‘I love you too,’ I said. ‘Even though you’re a selfish bastard.’

‘Thank God for that. Now I should go and get my bag from inside and settle up. I’m feeling okay. I’ll be fine to drive, so don’t worry.’

I nodded.

‘You drive safely now.’

‘You too.’

He kissed me. I felt the roughness of his stubble against my cheeks, the fine fuzz of his hair under my fingertips, the scratchy tweed of his coat against my neck. I felt love more intense and terrifying than anything I could have guessed it was possible to feel.

Then he pulled away and opened the door, a blast of raw winter air replacing the warmth of his body as he swung his legs out and stood up.

We didn’t see each other for more than two weeks after that.

We kept in touch by WhatsApp, of course, as we always had. But Gray’s text messages had always been brief and factual – I’d never been quite sure whether that was just his way of communicating or whether he wanted to keep the content of our messages neutral enough so that, if his phone fell into the wrong hands, they could be explained away as innocent.

Fell into the wrong hands. For God’s sake, Laurel. If his wife snooped, she wouldn’t immediately think he was fucking someone else.

There, that’s better.

Anyway, he sent me messages saying he was feeling not so great, but not awful either. I told him I’d got back okay and was looking forward to seeing him again.

I didn’t say, I miss you. I’m worried about you. Tell me what’s happening. I love you. I’m frightened.

I had to keep all of those things to myself, save them for when I saw him again, except I knew that when I did happiness would blow them all away, apart from the love bit. I had to wait, as patiently as I could, because that was what I’d signed up for when I started seeing someone who wasn’t mine.

The text I’d been longing for came late on a Tuesday evening, the first week of March.

I’ve got an appointment at the hospital tomorrow afternoon. Meet there for coffee?

Why wasn’t Anna going to his appointment with him, I wondered briefly. Probably something to do with the kids.

Of course, I messaged back. He told me which hospital and I replied, See you there.

When I arrived at the hospital coffee shop, he was already there, sat on a plastic chair with an empty red paper cup in front of him.

‘Hi,’ I said.

‘Hi.’ He didn’t stand up. He looked awful, pale and drawn and tired, and, I was sure, even thinner than when I’d last seen him.

‘I’ll grab a drink.’

I waited impatiently for my tea and then carried it back, sitting on the uncomfortable chair opposite his.