A Love Like Ours

Chapter 43

Madelyn's grip was tight on my hand.

She wasn't nervous exactly—at least, that was what she'd told me during the three hour drive here—she just didn't know what to anticipate.

"It's not like it was with Gemma," she'd said in the car, and I didn't know whether she was saying it for my benefit, or whether she was trying to reassure herself. "I know your Mom doesn't hate me."

I'd been looking over my shoulder to merge into the next lane, and apparently, hadn't replied quickly enough for her liking.

"She doesn't hate me, does she?" Her voice had grown so serious, dropped so low, I hadn't been able to help my laugh.

"No," I'd said, glancing at her sideways. "O'course not."

Her relief had been palpable when she sighed, and as I continued to laugh, she started to giggle, too.

"Stop it," she'd said, smacking me lightly on the arm. "You had me worried."

"You have nothing to worry about, Mads," I'd said, still smiling as I glanced at her again. "Mum's excited to see you."

"I know, I know. You've only told me a hundred times," she'd said, her frustration with herself evident. "I'm really not that nervous, I promise."

I'd reached for her hand then, keeping one on the wheel. I wasn't worried. I knew how Mum felt, and I knew that Mads would be totally at ease as soon as we got there.

It was just that getting there had left her too much time to think.

"Everything's gonna be fine," I'd said then, giving her hand a squeeze. "Promise."

It had been quiet for a few seconds then, and I couldn't be sure whether she actually believed me, but when she squeezed my hand in response, I'd smiled anyway.

Her grip was tighter now as I pushed open the door of my mother's home. And I could hear the quickening of her breath beside me. I smiled over my shoulder at her as I stepped inside, tugging her after me, and I was relieved when she smiled back.

I'd been looking forward to this for months—since I'd booked her flight. It was always incredible seeing her again after a chunk of time spent apart, but it was an entirely different thing knowing that we'd be spending our time with my family.

The last time we'd done this had been far too long ago, and it was crazy to me that she'd only ever been here once before. That she and my Mum—the two most important people in my life—had only met the one time.

And it had gone so well. I still fondly remembered our conversations together, watching the two of them smile and laugh as they conversed, and meeting their eyes individually of each other—the light of happiness, of acceptance, so clear in both of their gazes. It had been such a special thing for me. To know that they liked each other, to know that they enjoyed each other.

To know that they loved each other.

I'd been thinking about that for a while now. The way it had shocked me when my mother had said it getting into her car in London. It was the last thing I'd been expecting. And she'd said it so casually.

Love you both, she'd said through the open window of her car.

It was even more of a surprise when Mads said it right back. We love you, too.

There had been no adjustment period. There had been no awkwardness. There had been no facilitating conversation between the two of them.

From the very beginning they'd just... clicked.