Page 122 of Kiss Me Like You Mean It

‘Fuck off, Russell!’ Lee and I both shout at the same time.

And then I show my wife just how out of my mind she makes me.

Twice.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Lee

It has been over twenty-four hours since I went nuclear on the man who’s deciding his entire fate, and Nico’s being surprisingly relaxed about it. Admittedly, the multiple orgasms probably had a calming effect, but even after we dragged ourselves out of bed and Magda returned with Phoebe, he remained unnaturally cheerful.

I cannot believe I blew up like that. I never lose my temper. Prior to yesterday afternoon I didn’t even know I had a temper to lose. I still feel a bit sick and shaky whenever I think about it. As the poster child for avoiding conflict, this marks a significant shift in my sense of self.

I also can’t believe I jeopardised the future of two people I care about so much. There has to be a way to fix it. Perhaps if I find Charles and apologise…

‘What is this movie, again?’ Phoebe asks, carrying an enormous bowl of popcorn to the coffee table in front of the sofa.

‘It’s called Bringing Up Baby. It’s Lee’s favourite.’ Nico is in the kitchen, pouring multiple bags of American candy into different bowls.

Today Nico took one look at me and declared it a ‘stay-inside-and-talk-to-no-one’ day before popping out to get ice cream and snacks for us. As a result, there’s a genuinely deadly amount of sugar in this house and Phoebe is delighted. No wonder the town manages to sustain the business of four separate dentists.

We’ve already watched a film, three episodes of a show where a couple are renovating a French chateau, and spent an hour lounging around reading our books. It’s the strangest turn of events, but spending time with Phoebe and Nico is as restorative and soothing to me as spending time alone. I haven’t had that with anyone but Gran before.

‘I’ve never heard of it,’ Phoebe muses, dragging a pile of blankets out from her bedroom. ‘Did you say it’s black and white?’ She sounds suspicious.

‘I really think you’ll love it,’ I promise, hoping that I’m right. ‘I was about your age the first time I watched it.’

‘With your gran?’ Phoebe asks. Unfortunately, Phoebe is very interested in my grandmother, this mystical figure of fun, and so she brings her up quite often.

‘That’s right,’ I agree, because of course it is. All my best memories are with Gran.

‘Well, I guess if Gran likes it then I’ll try,’ Phoebe sighs heroically.

‘Oh good.’ My dry tone is lost on her and Nico shoots me a sympathetic look.

He grabs the final bowls of sweets and brings them over, the table practically groaning under their weight, and the three of us arrange ourselves on the sofa – me at one end, Nico at the other, Phoebe in the middle, and Taco pours himself into a tiny gap between Phoebe and me. Phoebe arranges the blankets over us and, once she’s satisfied, Nico hits play.

I glance over at the two of them. They’re both glued to the film, wearing matching expressions of enjoyment, and I vow that I’ll make everything right before I leave. It’s the least I can do.

The film plays and I get drawn into the familiar story of Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant hunting for their tame leopard while being ridiculously funny and extremely gorgeous. Every time Phoebe giggles, little starbursts go off in my chest. She leans against me, a small, warm weight. Six more days. Not only six more days with Nico, but six more days of this, of all of us together.

‘That was excellent,’ Phoebe says, when the credits roll. ‘Even if it was in black and white. I can’t wait to show Maya, she’s going to love it.’

‘You can watch it with her next week,’ Nico says. ‘You’re spending the day at hers on Sunday, don’t forget.’

Sunday is when my flight home is booked, and Nico’s gaze meets mine. For the first time since Charles left, anxiety tightens around his eyes. Perhaps it’s finally sinking in how little time we have to fix everything.

I can do it, I tell myself. I can make everything better. All I need to do is track down Charles and apologise for my outburst. I wonder if it’s too soon to send his assistant a third email. I barely included any exclamation marks in the last one.

‘Maybe I should have a pet leopard,’ Phoebe wonders. ‘He could be friends with Taco.’

‘Trust me, leopards don’t make good pets outside Hollywood,’ Nico says, stretching and getting to his feet to clear away the empty bowls. (Phoebe demolished everything in sight with the horrifying, if impressive, efficiency of a swarm of locusts.)

‘And your dad would know,’ I say, an idea occurring to me. Maybe there’s something else I can help to fix before I go. ‘You took photos of them in the wild, right?’ I turn to look at Nico over my shoulder. ‘Where was that?’

‘Yeah,’ he says shortly. ‘Botswana.’

‘You did?’ Phoebe asks. ‘He never talks about that stuff,’ she tells me.