Page 106 of If We Were Young

I offered a rueful laugh. “Not that young anymore.”

“Age is nothing but a number that gets printed on birthday cards. It comes down to happiness, what you love and how you spend your time, the precious hours between life and death. That’s what ages you.”

“That explains why I feel a hundred and five.” I put the glass down on the table. I could breathe now. Lynn had that same easy way about her as Matthew. It’s like they created space around them, could provide oxygen in any situation. It was a rare gift.

“You said Matthew tried to heal the bridges with his dad?”

Her gaze shadowed and I realised too late my question had stepped beyond one of polite interest in a client.

“His dad said he had to take responsibility; that he shouldn’t mess around with people. If you’d committed to something, then you should see it through. Matthew struggled with that. He didn’t want to work in the shop. He was always the creative one out of them all. But then when Phil’s health started to fail, Matthew made sure the shop could keep running.”

“Julie’s dad offered to buy the business, didn’t he?”

“Yes.” Getting up from the chair she’d sat on, she walked to the kitchen work surface and then came back with ingredients in her hand. She handed me a packet of sponge biscuits. “We’d better get this trifle into the fridge otherwise it won’t set firm.”

Distracted, I pulled at the edge of the wrapper, winding it around the sweet-smelling biscuits. “What happened then?”

“Carling Supersavers, with its small chain of shops, got swallowed up. Phil died and my son changed.” She paused, her gaze settling on a distant point of history. “Anyway, let’s get this done. The hoards will be here soon.”

I layered the biscuits in the bottom of a glass dish like she told me and then soaked them with sherry like I lubricated a fire with lighter fluid.

No wonder Aunty Annie couldn’t walk.

“Here, best drink it before it all goes.” Lynn stepped to a cupboard and grabbed out two small delicate glasses and filled them to the very top. “Cheers. To absent love.”

My breath caught. My own cheers sounded hollow in return.

My absent love was in the room just along. I had the most awful dawning realisation that there was more lingering under the surface to this story of him and I.

I downed the sherry.

Problem was, I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to find out.

He pressed a kiss to the back of my neck as he passed by and I shivered, hot and cold exploding at the spot his lips skimmed against my skin.

I was squirting cream on the trifle. More fun than I would have thought. I batted him away, quickly checking to see if his mum was still in the room.

Thank God she was gone. With a heart easing sigh, I wrapped my hands in his jumper and pulled him close, inhaling him with painful desperation.

I couldn’t shake the feeling this was a dream and I’d wake up soon.

The wake up would be the most hideous event of my life. The moment I realised that Matthew and I weren’t real.

My lips brushed his cheek, tasting the warmth of his skin. My palms slid up his chest and I gave a small smile as he sighed low.

“I can’t believe I’m here.” I screwed my eyes shut as I spoke.

His fingers touched my chin, tilting my mouth until I could feel the brush of his lips. “I can’t believe you haven’t been here before.” An empty resignation rang in his tone and I didn’t want to see the depths in the heaven and slate gaze. I’d take his kiss though and I did.

Another shiver exploded over my skin. His hand wrapped around the back of my head, holding me in a firm cradle as my lips opened and he pressed his warm mouth to mine.

Nothing existed apart from Matthew and the Kiss.

Not his children. Mother. Not even him and I. We were warm lips and hot breath.

Eventually I pulled away, dragging myself from his air-stealing mouth. “Matthew.” This hurt down on a basic level. “Why didn’t you tell me about your dad?”

He stilled, etching himself into a rock of sadness. Our gazes met and I trembled at the connection. “Sometimes I don’t have the words either.”