This is a good one. Use her.
‘He’s right. It is a good one,’ Bridget said glumly. ‘I can’t believe he decided this was the time to look through the applications.’
‘You’re sure it’s her?’
She nodded. ‘I compared the DNA sample to one of mine. Unless I have a secret sister out there somewhere, it’s Emma.’
‘Then you can’t use her. It wouldn’t be an impartial selection.’
‘I tried that. He said that seeing as he made the selection, it is. He also said that if for any reason she happened to change her mind, he’d assume it was down to my interference. I’d be fired for fixing the outcome of the study.’
Bridget tugged at her hair in exasperation. ‘I almost don’t care if I get fired for this. I love my research but Prof is getting worse and it barely seems worth it any more. But I need the salary so that Paolo and I can buy the shop off Dad. I know the stress of the business makes him worse. How can I choose between Dad’s health and letting my sister marry the wrong person? So then I think, well, she could just get divorced if it doesn’t work out. But there’s no “just” about having to go through a sham marriage, and then a divorce. And I’ll have betrayed her, because she said she’ll only do it if I can find her someone nice. I can’t let her choose a dress and have all our family and friends come and watch her marry someone who’s been married four times before, or is twice her age. I mean, if she was in love with them and everything, then I could. But she doesn’t even know what she’s letting herself in for.’
She burst into tears. ‘Either way, I’m ruining Emma’s life, or my parents’. How am I supposed to make that choice? How did this nightmare even happen? I can’t believe Emma did this.’
‘Bridget, Emma is an adult. She can make her own decisions. You need to tell Emma that Prof is insisting you pick her no matter how compatible the match, and then she can pull out. And your dad’s health doesn’t hang on whether Paolo buys the shop. You know that’s not how ME works. Even if it did, they’ll figure something out.’
Bridget was crying too hard to hear him.
‘Maybe it’s time we took the whole situation to the vice chancellor.’
Screw professional boundaries about supervisors and their staff. He wrapped his arms around Bridget and pulled her tightly against his chest. After a moment she returned the hug, leaning against him as her jagged breaths began to steady.
And he realised that Bridget Donovan was the only person he’d hugged in years. And before then, her bonkers mamma, Gabriella Donovan, and her soft-spoken, warm-hearted bear of a dad had hugged him every time he’d visited. Sofia and Orla had always hugged him too, ruffling his hair and calling him ‘Little Brother’. Annie used to tuck her arm through his on nights out, grabbing his hand whenever she had a point to make, which was often.
For three incredible years, the Donovan family had welcomed him into its loving and strong arms, and he had known what it was like to have a family. To very nearly belong.
And as he held onto Bridget, it was as though the box in his brain where he locked away all the memories – all thefeelings –sprang open, and along with it came pouring out an overpowering rush of loneliness.
He’d tried to ignore it, to pretend he was fine. But whether it was sudden or had been building for years, he wasn’t fine any more.
Suddenly the thought of going back home to an empty flat night after night was unbearable. The abandoned teenager still hiding under his lab coat flashed back to what it had been like, always being hungry, freezing cold in winter, choosing between luxuries like toiletries or washing his clothes. He’d survived it, but the survivor in him knew he’d do anything not to go back.
He surreptitiously wiped his eyes on his jumper sleeve, and gave her one last squeeze before pulling away (literally a goodbye squeeze, if he was about to do what he was about to do, goodbye to the woman he’d been utterly in love with).
‘You don’t have to do anything today. We’ve had a steady stream of reasonable applications from men. You never know, something incredible might happen. You Donovans believe in miracles, don’t you? Maybe this is going to be the most romantic ending to a neuroscientific study ever.’
Bridget blew her nose, pulling a watery smile.
‘Now, don’t you have some brain samples to study or something?’ Cooper resisted the urge to tuck the stray lock of hair back off her face. Those days were done now.
‘Yeah. See you at lunch later?’
Cooper shrugged, picking up the folder and casually dropping it onto his desk. ‘Maybe. But I need to speak to one of my students about their assignment at some point, so don’t wait for me.’
As soon as she left he opened up his laptop and clicked through to the online portal they’d created so people could submit anonymous applications.
Bridget cared more about her family than her career, but, at the same time, Cooper knew how much she loved her job. And if she and Paolo really were saving up to buy Donovan’s DIY from Bear, it would crush her if that could no longer happen.
He thought about what he knew about Emma. They’d met a couple of times, when she’d come home for Christmas. She’d spent four years living in Ireland after breaking up with her fiancé. She was a few years older than him, but that hardly mattered; Cooper had grown up pretty fast. She looked lovely. Not like Bridget, but he could definitely find her attractive. She was kind, and had started her own business from nothing, which he respected, and could relate to.
Could he grow to love her, as she deserved?
More to the point – could she love him?
The rest of the Donovans had managed it easily enough.
He considered life with Bear and Gabriella as his dad and mum. Belonging to a family of sisters and brothers-in-law (‘brothers-in-love’ as Gabriella insisted on calling them), of nieces and nephews and family Sunday lunches, Christmas in the farmhouse, summer barbeques in the garden. The laughter and the love. Sharing the heartbreaks and the hard times.
