was totally out of step. She’d been brilliant today. He made a mental note to cut her more slack in future.
Emmy’s mum stayed to help, then kissed Emmy goodbye and, to Dylan’s surprise, gave him a hug. ‘Take care of yourself and call me if you need me, OK? That goes for both of you. Any time.’
He found himself envying Emmy’s closeness to her mum. If only his own mother had been like that, maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe he would’ve known how to really love someone and not made such a mess of his marriage. Though he appreciated the way Emmy’s mother had included him. How would Emmy have got on with his family? He had a feeling that Emmy would’ve liked his gran, and his gran would’ve liked Emmy.
And this was dangerous territory. He couldn’t let himself think about this.
Emmy put Tyler to bed while he finished moving all the furniture back. Then she took a tray up to Pete and Ally’s parents with tea and sandwiches.
When she came back down, Dylan noticed that she looked upset.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘They’re not coming down again today. I think it’s exhausted all of them.’ She bit her lip. ‘It’s so wrong, having to bury your child. It isn’t the natural order of things. I really feel for them. Today they all seemed to age ten years in a matter of seconds. Did you see Ally’s dad walking into church? He had to hold on to the side of the pew until he composed himself. It’s not that long ago he was walking down that aisle with Ally on his arm in that gorgeous fishtail dress, and you and Pete were waiting at the altar.’
‘Yeah, I remember,’ Dylan said softly. ‘And you’re right. Burying a parent must be hard, but it’s more the natural order. Burying your child must be the worst feeling in the world.’
‘And there’s nothing we can do to make it better.’ Her voice cracked and she looked anguished.
‘I know, but I think we did Pete and Ally proud,’ he said. ‘Everyone was here celebrating them.’
She nodded. ‘You’re right. I think it’s what they would’ve wanted.’
He wandered over to look at the photos on the divider, and saw the one of Emmy and Ally together as students.
‘Your hair looks absolutely terrible. Whatever made you dye it blue?’
She came to join him and shrugged. ‘I was a design student. We all did that sort of thing back then.’
‘It looks nice now. Obviously it’s not your natural colour but it suits you. It brings out your eyes.’ He reached out to brush a lock of hair from her face.
‘Careful, Dylan. Anyone might think we were on the way to being friends, with you paying me compliments like that.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Maybe we are.’
She dragged in a breath. ‘I wish it hadn’t taken Ally and Pete to die before we started to see—well, what they saw in us.’
‘Me, too.’ He gave her a crooked smile. ‘We can’t change the past. But, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I misjudged you. You’re not the needy, flaky mess I thought you were.’
Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m sorry I misjudged you, too. You’re still a bit judgemental, and you open your mouth before you think about what’s going to come out of it. You might have the social skills of a rhino, but you do have a heart.’
Did he? Sometimes he wasn’t so sure. He’d built so many walls around it that it was lost.
She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘Now I’m being wet. Ignore me.’
‘It’s OK. I’m not that far off crying, myself,’ he admitted. He looked at her. ‘Do you want a glass of wine?
She nodded.
‘Me, too. Come on.’
He poured them each a glass of wine and then put some soft piano music on before curling up on the opposite end of the sofa to her. Her toes touched his ankle, but it didn’t make him want to pull away. Weirdly, he felt more comfortable with her now, on one of the saddest days of his life, than he ever had before.
‘I like this. What is it?’ she asked.
‘Einaudi. You work to classical music, don’t you?’
‘Vivaldi—not “the Four Seasons”, because that’s been overplayed to the point where I find it almost impossible to listen to it, but I like his cello concerti. They’re calming and regular, good to work to.’
‘I was looking at your website,’ he said. ‘You’re very talented.’
She looked surprised, but inclined her head in acknowledgement of the compliment. ‘Thank you.’
‘But you could really do with a proper stock management program. I’ve written one and tested it for you. Let me know your admin password, and I’ll install it for you.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You’ve written me a program?’
‘It’s only a simple one.’ He flapped a dismissive hand. ‘It’s pretty intuitive, so it won’t take you five minutes to get to grips with it.’
‘You’ve actually written me a program.’ Tears glittered in her eyes.
He shrugged, feeling awkward. ‘It’s no big deal, Emmy. It wasn’t that time-consuming.’
‘But you still made the time to do it. Which is amazing, especially as we’ve both got all these new responsibilities and we’re adjusting to all the changes in our lives.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘Thank you, Dylan.’
‘It was entirely selfish of me,’ he said. ‘If it makes your life easier, then our rota will run more smoothly.’
She gave him a look that told him she didn’t believe a word of it. That she knew he’d done it partly because he’d wanted to do something nice for her, even though there was no way he’d ever admit that out loud. ‘Even so. Thank you.’ She bit her lip. ‘I just wish it hadn’t taken—well, this, to get us in any kind of accord.’
‘Me, too. But we’ve cracked the first week and a half. We’re both there for Tyler. We’ll make this work,’ he said. And he meant every single word.
OVER THE NEXT few weeks, Emmy and Dylan settled in to their new routine. They shared Tyler’s care during the week; Emmy had found a Pilates class nearby, which was scheduled at a similar time to her old class, and Dylan had found a gym nearby, too. And Emmy was surprised at how quickly she’d got used to the routine of working and family life.
‘You know, Ty, I never thought it would end up being like this,’ she said, jiggling the baby on her lap. ‘I thought he’d be a nightmare to share a house with. Fussy and demanding and annoying. But he’s actually OK, when you get to know him. He still has the social skills of
