“Nikki, I am so sorry.”
My heart leapt a little, nerves kicking up as the words settled over me. It felt good, a little vindication, but I was still wary. “What are you apologizing for?”
Alex ran a hand through his hair. “Can we talk? I had hoped… I was waiting for you to get home so we could talk. I didn’t want to just post these things to you.”
Despite it being late and jet lag weighing me down, I wanted him to stay.
I stepped over to the couch and settled in one corner, gesturing to the other. “How did you know when I was getting home?”
“My mum asked your mum.”
My lips twitched. “Of course.”
“They are eternally optimistic about us, even after I told my mum everything.”
I folded my legs underneath me and waited. Alex rubbed his hands together and drew out a breath. “Did you know my parents nearly divorced?”
I blinked at him. That wasn’t what I was expecting him to say. “Ummm….when?”
“Our last year of school.” He shifted his weight on the couch and scratched at his nail. “Pretty close to that party when we kissed, actually.”
I thought back to the days where I’d gone over to the Boyds’ residence and seen his parents. They both doted on him; Alex and his mum had so much in common, and his stay-at-home dad had raised him. I’d always been jealous of his tight-knit family. “They didn’t, though. What happened?”
“My mum’s a workaholic, just like me.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Sometimes I think I’m too much like her. I have her looks, her work habits, and someday I’ll have her job.” Alex leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and rubbing his face before continuing. “When we moved to the city, Mum was working a lot more. She had more pressure, more employees, more responsibilities. More stress. On the other side, I was growing up and getting independent. I didn’t need my dad in the same way. I remember coming home some nights from tutoring or your house and finding him alone in the study, the house dark and quiet around him.”
“Because your mum was always working.”
He nodded. “Mum always had strong priorities. And my father had slipped down on the list. Something snapped, and Dad had had enough. They separated for three weeks or so, trying to figure out how to move forward.”
“What did they decide to do?”
“They compromised, changed their schedules. Mum committed to taking lunches off once a week to have a long lunch with Dad. He vowed to be more present around her office. Now that I could be on my own, Dad was free to come to more evening work functions. And with my dad having more free time, Mum asked him what he wanted to do with himself. And he said he wanted to try cycling. So they did it together.”
I couldn’t help myself, and I snorted. “Your mum is just as competitive as you are. I can’t imagine how your dad handled that.”
Alex ignored my laugh. “He loved it. He’s competitive, too, you know, and it really got them to spend a lot of time together. They’d spend weekends on the road, and for a while, conversations about bikes and races and group rides were what I came home to. Now it’s more along the lines of yoga and swimming, vacationing onThemis, that kind of thing.”
“I’m glad that they sorted it out. That must have been tough for you. But I don’t understand what this has to do with us.”
Alex clasped his hands together and met my eyes. “Iama workaholic. I always will be. I love my job. But I want to love someone. I want to loveyou, Nikki. And I want you to know that I will always make time for you in my life, I will always be interested in what you are interested in, I will always listen when you talk about your dreams, your hobbies”—he gestured to the pile of camera gear—“your career. I realize that I’ve gone about it all wrong now. It’s not something I can force my way into. I just wanted to spend time with you. That’s what I tried to do, with the running, the sailing, the camera, and for that, I am truly sorry.”
Carefully, Alex reached over and took my hand, cupping it in both of his and giving me a little squeeze. “I love my mum, but I never want to lose sight of what’s really important. I promise that I’ll let you have your own career. I didn’t realize what you were doing, and I want you to know how much I admire the work you’ve done.”
I looked at our joined hands. “You didn’t know because I didn’t tell you. I even lied to you, which I regret, and I’m sorry for that too. I worried that you would make me want to give up photography too. I’m just not competitive, and I don’t want to compete with you. I want to love doing something and stick with it because it makes me happy.”
“And that’s photography?” he asked, eyes flickering to the boxes on my table.
“Yes, it is. I love it. And I’m good at it.”
Alex’s grin turned sheepish. “I did find your Instagram account.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, the lodge shared one of your photos and gave you credit for it. I looked through your profile and then your portfolio. You are really good, Nikki.” He squeezed my hand again.
I let my fingers slip out from his and turned to look over the couch at the boxes. “So you bought a bunch of expensive gear just so you could learn how to be a photographer with me?”
He grimaced. “Yeah. When you say it out loud like that, it sounds ridiculous. So privileged.”
