Fiona Harper - Don't Go Breaking My Heart - Break Up to Make Up / Always the Best Man

She didn’t have an answer to that.

And the reason she didn’t have an answer was that Nick was spot-on.

Her voice was soft when she answered a minute later. ‘I apologised to Phoebe while you were out in the shed.’

He shot her an incredulous look, but didn’t accuse her further.

‘Well, I’m glad you came to your senses. They’re a great couple.’

‘I know.’

He flicked the indicator and overtook a caravan.

‘Why do you insist on cutting yourself off from people, Adele?’

‘I…’

She frowned. Did she?

‘Do I?’ she asked.

Nick shook his head. ‘You certainly shut me out.’

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘You talk to Mona, but you won’t talk to me. Why am I always kept at arm’s length?’

She didn’t know. It was just easier to be herself with Mona. She was a good friend, but her world wouldn’t crumble if they fell out. So much more was at stake with Nick. She didn’t want to let him down.

She looked at him. She’d already disappointed him today. There wasn’t much point in digging herself in deeper by making more excuses.

Nick shook his head then indicated at a sign on the grass verge. ‘Service station. I need a break.’

THERE was a sharpness in the air Adele hadn’t expected when she stepped out of the car. The Lake District wasn’t far away. They were two hundred and fifty miles north of London and it was noticeably colder. Snow dusted the fells to the north. She reached inside her pockets for her gloves.

Nick seemed happy to hurry into the low building of the service station, but she took her time as she walked across the car park.

She loved this kind of landscape. It was proud, ancient and soul-achingly lonely. Rolling green hills covered in scrubby grass dipped down into a valley where a rocky little stream gurgled along. Sheep dotted the banks, meandering in and out of neighbouring fields through the crumbling dry-stone walls.

Clean, cold air filled her lungs as she took one deep breath. Just being here was detoxifying. She turned one full circle before entering the services, just to take it all in.

The building was obviously not owned by one of the large chains—there were no fast-food counters or slot machines and as she entered the restaurant she was relieved to see wooden tables and chairs, real plants and exposed timber beams supporting the roof.

Nick was standing at the counter waiting to order coffee and she stood silently next to him. When his order came he handed her a large latte and the fattest, moistest slice of chocolate cake she’d ever seen. Then he walked off to a table and sat down without saying a word.

She slid into the chair opposite him.

‘Talk to me, Nick.’

He stirred his coffee. She’d never seen him like this before. Where were the smart retorts? The jokes? Suddenly she missed them. Usually he had the irritating ability to just snap out of being angry, as if he’d flicked a switch or something.

‘I’m sorry I let you down, truly I am.’ Nick dropped his spoon in surprise. She knew it wasn’t often that word passed her lips. ‘I was out of my depth and you kind of sprang the visit on me, after all.’

‘I didn’t think visiting friends would be such a big deal. I thought we’d have a nice time.’

‘Your friends, though. I didn’t feel comfortable at all. What on earth had you told them about me? What was all that “famous Adele” business?’

He snorted. ‘Great! Now I’m in trouble for saying nice things about my wife?’

She pressed her lips together and pondered her answer. How could she tell him it was very hard to admit she was going under? All she heard was: You’re so wonderful, Adele, or You can do anything, Adele. He always seemed to expect her to cope with everything he flung at her, and so she did.

‘No, that’s not it at all. I used to love the fact you believed in me so much, but you don’t understand the pressure it puts me under. You’re just like my parents in that respect. I didn’t want to disappoint you.’

He put his coffee-cup down and stared at her. ‘Well, you did.’

‘See? As soon as I admit I’m not the oh-so-perfect picture you paint of me, I’ve let you down. Sometimes I just want to be Adele, without the adjectives. Not “successful” or “famous” or “fabulous”. Just me.’

‘But you are all of those things.’

The look he gave her made tears prickle behind her eyes. She knew he thought that and, while it melted her heart that he held her in such high regard, on the other hand she wanted him to see right through the illusion.

‘I’m not who you think I am.’

He took a sip of his coffee and studied her. She refused to flinch under his gaze.

‘I’m starting to see that.’

Suddenly she wanted to take it all back, to stop him seeing what a fraud she was. It felt too raw to have him peeling away the layers one by one.

They sat in silence while Adele took comfort in her chocolate cake and they finished their coffees. As she started to pile the crockery up on the tray, he spoke.

‘Maybe I’ve been guilty of asking the impossible of you, believing in you too much, if you like, but you do the opposite. You don’t believe in me enough.’

She stopped stacking, opened her mouth to speak then paused as a cup slid off the pile. She carefully replaced it, only letting go when she was sure it was perfectly balanced.

She spoke without taking her eyes off it. ‘Is this about the job? Because you know—’

‘It all comes back to the flipping job in America, doesn’t it? Are you ever going to be able to forgive me for that?’

She didn’t answer.

‘We could have worked something out, you know. It would have been difficult for a few months, but it wasn’t the end of the world. You could have come with me, even just for short visits.’

‘But my job, the house—’ Her roots.

‘Are the most important things in your life. I know that now.’

‘I couldn’t just drop everything at a moment’s notice. You didn’t even give me time to work out a plan. It was now or never. And you chose now for the job and never for me. How do you think I felt when I realised you hadn’t just gone down the pub to cool off, when I got your text message saying you’d call me when you landed in LA?’

He shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his seat. ‘You were the one who told me to get on the plane.’

‘I was angry, Nick! I didn’t think you’d actually do it! Stop being so pigheaded.’

‘Then why, if you wanted to sort it out later, did you not answer any of my calls? It gave a pretty clear message, you know.’

She swallowed. She couldn’t tell him here. Not like this. The backs of her eyes stung. How could she tell him that at first she’d been too thrown by what should have been the happiest news of her life to know what to do? Then, just as she’d been gearing herself up to ring him and say ‘Guess what? You’re going to be a dad!’ it suddenly wasn’t true any more.

She hadn’t been able to tell him. She hadn’t been able to tell anyone. Only Mona. And Mona only knew because she had been there when it had started, had held her hand at the hospital. Then she’d taken her home and hugged her until the tears had run dry.

Those were things he should have done! He should have been there. And she’d been so angry at him for being thousands of miles away she hadn’t been able to talk to him.

Her lip did a micro-quiver, but she bit down on it before it developed into the real thing.

The one time she’d really needed him, he hadn’t been there for her. And it didn’t matter that the sensible side of her brain understood that he hadn’t known, that he’d have been there if he could have been. The messy, illogical side of her couldn’t quite forgive him. Somehow it had summed up all that was wrong with their marriage—Nick happily bounding along, oblivious to her feelings.