Fauxmance (Showmance #2)(84)

“Julian,” she said and I looked up. It wasn’t often that she uttered my name.

“Yes, Mum?”

Her expression showed a rare hint of remorse. “You shouldn’t listen to me. This woman, maybe she loves you back. Maybe you just need to take a chance. You don’t want to end up like me. I hurt everyone who ever tried to love me, because I was hurt too many times myself, and now I’m all alone.”

Was that what would happen? I’d end up exactly like Mum?

Her uncharacteristic show of emotion and vulnerability was jarring. I reached out and took her hand. For a second, she flinched, but then accepted my touch. “You’re not alone. You have me.”

Mum blinked, and I thought I saw a watery shine in her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Too bad, you’ve got me.”

She gave me a glimpse into just how grateful she was, how sorry she was for everything she put me through, all in one infinitely sad expression. Reaching out, she stroked my hair away from my face. “You’re a good person, Julian. Too good. I know I give you shit all the time, but you don’t deserve it. Sometimes my misery wants to make everyone else miserable, too.”

“It’s okay, I understand.”

And I did. When I was a teenager, I started to suffer from the same depression as Mum. I knew what it was like to be a black hole and want to pull everyone down with me. But I was stronger than Mum and I fought it. I got it under control. It required constant upkeep, but it was the only way I kept from succumbing to darkness. I’d fallen once before, fallen so bad I almost killed myself with drugs. But I’d never go back to that. I couldn’t.

“If you think she’ll give you another shot, you should take it,” Mum went on. “You don’t get too many chances for love in this life. More often than not, it’s unrequited. So, when it’s real, you’ve got to grab hold of it.”

I absorbed her words. I let them sink into me and embolden me. Because she was right. How often do we find connections like the one I shared with Ellen? Sometimes only once in a lifetime. Sometimes not even once.

I could take a chance on her, or I could continue to live in this liminal world where I’ve spent so many years existing. Giving myself to people, but then taking myself away just as quickly, always moving on for fear of getting too attached. Or I could try let someone love me, and love them in return.

I hadn’t seen Ellen in months and I still thought about her every single day.

What was the point in yearning for someone like that when they were just around the corner, completely and totally within reach? Was it some form of sadism? Self-sabotage?

I was wrapped in my thoughts all the way home from my visit with Mum. While walking by a bookshop, I saw a display of the entire Sasha Orlando series, and it felt like a sign. On autopilot, I went inside, bought a copy of every single book and walked out with a heavy bag on my arm.

Halfway down the street, there was a teenage girl with a box of puppies. Living in the city, I’d come across countless people giving away puppies and kittens, and all other manner of baby animals on the street. Each time I’d taken a look at the cute little things and continued on my merry way. But not today. Today I stopped completely.

The girl’s face was red as she handed a puppy off to a smiling couple. The sign over the box read: FREE PUPPIES. MY MUM IS MAKING ME GIVE THEM AWAY. ONLY TO GOOD, CARING HOMES.

Instantly, my heart went out to her.

“What breed are they?” I asked, peering down at the fawn coloured pups.

“Chihuahuas. I have to give them away because we don’t have room in our flat,” she replied, bereft.

“They’re so tiny,” I commented.

She nodded. “They don’t need much space, just someone to care for them. They need a lot of love.”

Feeling bold, I said, “I’ll take one.”

Sadly, she turned and picked one up. “This is Sheila. She’s the bossiest of the litter, if you think you can handle that.”

I smiled warmly. “I am partial to a bossy female.”

She handed me the pup and I took her in my arms. Sheila was sleepy, and she immediately snuggled into me. For a second, I was a little boy again, the one whose Mum said no every time he begged for a pet.

“I think I love her already,” I breathed.

“She’ll get fluffier as she gets older,” the girl said. “Her mum, Hilda, is my dog and she’s really fluffy.”

“I’ll invest in some good lint rollers then,” I said, unable to stop smiling.

When I arrived back at the flat, Damon sat in the living room, a laptop open in front of him and stacks of paper all around. He did a double take when he saw me.

“Uh, Julian, is that a dog?”

I flounced into the room, holding my new baby. “You can refer to her as Sheila.”

Damon scratched his head. “Okay, but…you don’t even have a garden.”

“The balcony will do. And she can come with me every morning for a walk in the park. There was a girl out on the street giving them away. I had to take one.”

Now he chuckled. “Well, don’t tell Rose that. She’ll be out trying to find the girl to get one for herself.”

I saluted him as I headed for the kitchen to find a bowl to pour some water for Sheila. “By the way, I’ll take that consulting job if it’s still going,” I said casually while I opened a cupboard.