Page 92 of Two Wrongs
Dylan’s shoulders tighten, his arms doing the same. ‘I don’t know. I hope so, Edera.’ Eyes full and watery, my tears begin to fall. His use of my name like that—the soft tone?—is like a glimpse into the past. ‘I’ll drive you to the hospital as soon as we can leave.’
‘That’s okay. I-I’m okay to drive. I drove over myself this morning. I can drive.’
‘You’ve had a tough day.’ His tone is rueful, though not quite contrite. ‘You should rest while you can.’
‘I’m sure I can get Kit to take me,’ I reply. Toying with a strand of his dark hair, I barely resist the urge to run my fingers through it when his shoulders stiffen further.
‘If that’s what you’d prefer.’ He doesn’t articulate his feelings further. In fact, he doesn’t say anything at all. It’s more in what he doesn’t say as his hands band tighter at the base of my spine.
‘Hey,’ I whisper, resting my cheek against his head. His soft hair tickles my face in an echo of the past. ‘Did I say something wrong?’ He doesn’t answer and doesn’t let go. ‘You don’t have to worry or take care of me. This baby; it doesn’t have to change anything.’
Because it certainly doesn’t change how I love you. Doesn’t make it go away. More the opposite; the thoughts of growing a tiny piece of you inside me brings me comfort,I don’t say.
‘Doesn’t change anything,’ he repeats, his tone gravelly. ‘I suppose that’s why you didn’t say? Didn’t tell me, I mean. Kit, did you say?’
‘Yeah...’ I answer, puzzled. ‘Kit is... Rory’s brother.’
‘And you and Kit.’ A statement, not quite a question.Quite the concession.I laugh—snort—something.
‘What’s funny?’ he asks, the lilt of his accent stronger suddenly. He sits straighter, and my arms fall away, though his arms don’t leave my waist. At least, what’s left of my waistline, which these days is barely a dip above my hips.
‘I’m not sure I’m Kit’s type,’ I answer, a touch sardonically, even as I recall Fin’s earlier words. Still, whatever floats Kit’s boat, it isn’t me. And for that, I’m glad.
‘Then he’s a fool.’ Stormy eyes stare back at me through thick, black lashes, honest and true. I don’t mean to respond, but somehow, I do, words just spilling.
‘Says the man who let me go. Oh, God—I’m sorry!’ I make to pull away, mortified at what I’ve said—what I’ve revealed—when his arms bind me tighter to him.
‘No, you’re right. I am a fool.’ He huffs a bitter laugh but doesn’t speak again. But this affection—his arms wrapped around me—this must be an olive branch, right? We might never be what we once were, but maybe this is the start of how we can be? How we can be together yet apart. People raising a child. Co-parents. Maybe even friends?
Only, I’m not sure I’ll ever get over loving him, which will make me a really shitty friend.
‘I just don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated now.’ I resist moving, realising he’s about to protest. ‘Please, just listen,’ I add, ‘because I know why you’re here—why you needed to see me.’ I sigh, wishing for a dozen things. A dozen things that I won’t ever have. ‘At least, I think I know, and it’s okay. We were asking for trouble, making those videos, so we’re both to blame. I... I think I might have to go and live on Lewis or one of the other outer Hebridean islands—people have hair there, so I’m sure I can make a living. I just don’t think I can face being chased by the tabloids. It was bad enough watching those vultures attacking Fin, and I’m not as strong as she is. Besides, I can probably hide from my family up there. I’ll live in a yurt or something but for no more than a dozen years or so.’
His laugh is deep and painful. At least, for me. I don’t remember the last time I heard him laugh spontaneously. Sincerely. For me.
Knickers. I’m going to cry again.
‘What about me? Where am I gonna hide?’
‘What do you mean?’ I ask, pulling away to look at him. ‘Your life is already plastered over the internet all the time.’
‘You think it won’t hurt me to know people are watching you—stealing you from me? Knowing I can’t protect you from this?’
‘Dylan,’ I say softly. ‘Youwere going to do this to me if I didn’t show up in LA.’
‘Fuck!’ His hands fall away as he pushes to stand, stalking to the other side of the room.
‘I was hurt and wanting to hurt. Do you really think I could do that to you?’ I don’t answer, despite the demand in his gaze. My answer wouldn’t be helpful because my answer would be yes.
‘It doesn’t matter anymore,’ I say eventually. ‘What matters is moving on, and I’m trying to apologise for not telling you.’ I place my hands on my stomach, an action that still doesn’t feel natural. ‘I would have, I promise you. I was trying to do the right thing, for once, only I wasn’t sure what that was.’
He steps towards me, reaching for my hands and bowing his head over them. ‘Georgia and I aren’t together.’ I make to pull away, but he manacles my wrists in his long fingers. His head rises, his green gaze solemn and intent on my own. ‘We weren’t ever together, not like you think. She was nothing but a smoke screen.’ My brow furrows as he carries on. ‘I may not always make the best decisions, but believe it or not, I’ve been seeing more of her because of you.’
‘Because you know how much I don’t like her?’ I say suddenly, my tone betraying my hurt.
‘To hide you. Some calls were made, referencing a relationship I’d had with a hairstylist. Someone was asking questions, digging, and I didn’t want them to find you. There’ve been rumours about this video for a while now even though we’ve tried to keep it under wraps. I got it in my mind I’d give then something else to talk about.’
‘So you proposed?’ I ask incredulously.
