Trust Me - Sheryl Browne Page 0,62

she wasn’t going to.

‘No.’ Millie played with the cheese on her plate. ‘He’s working.’

‘Ah.’ Emily nodded. ‘Older than you then?’ she asked, trying to sound interested rather than as if she were judging.

Millie looked uncomfortable. ‘A bit.’

Emily waited, thinking she might tell her how old and what kind of work he did. Millie, though, kept her eyes fixed on her plate. Careful, Emily warned herself. She didn’t want to undo the progress they’d made this evening. ‘Does he live with his parents?’ She pushed it a little, needing to know at least that much to be able to form some kind of a picture in her mind.

‘No.’ Millie shook her head. ‘He has his own flat and his own car, and he’s okay.’ There was a challenge in her eyes as her gaze flicked to hers. ‘Caring, you know?’

Someone a good few years older than her, then. Emily felt a ripple of apprehension as she noted two bright spots blooming on her daughter’s cheeks. She was hiding something. What, and why?

‘Well that’s a relief,’ she said, manufacturing a bright smile and tucking into her cheese and crackers, though she was sure they would stick in her throat. ‘As long as he respects you and what you want to do with your—’

‘He does,’ Millie cut in, her tone agitated and her forehead creasing into a scowl.

Emily swallowed her food slowly. ‘Good,’ she said, and searched for something else to say. She was about to ask where they’d met, thinking that might be a safer avenue, but stopped herself. Millie had opened up to her a little, and instead of allowing her to go at her own pace, offer more if she wanted to, she was cross-examining her, effectively pushing her away again. She didn’t want to do that. She just wanted her daughter to be safe and happy, to not have regrets she might carry for the rest of her life. She dearly wished Millie could see her as a friend, someone she could feel safe confiding in, rather than the enemy.

Clearly, though, she didn’t. It pained her to think it, but Millie was more inclined to confide in Jake than her lately. She should have asked him to talk to her – talked more to him herself, admitted why she was so scared for their daughter, who was beautiful and wilful and vulnerable, and could so easily fall into the same traps she herself had, because she’d imagined the most important thing in her life was the man she’d thought she was in love with.

‘Look, Millie …’ Taking a breath, she reached across the worktop for her daughter’s hand. ‘I’m sorry if I seem to be grilling you. I don’t mean to. I’m just worried for you, that’s all. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did and then—’

‘Oh here we go.’ Snatching her hand away, Millie scrambled off her stool.

Now what had she done? Emily looked at her, astonished.

‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ Millie glared at her, her eyes ablaze with bewildering anger.

Shaken, Emily got to her feet. ‘Get what?’ she asked. She didn’t get it. She really didn’t. She hadn’t said or done anything, as far as she could see, except be concerned.

‘What you’re saying,’ Millie yelled. ‘The “I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did” crap you keep spouting with that dour bloody look on your face. You really don’t understand, do you?’

Emily was speechless for a second. ‘No, I don’t,’ she managed, her mouth parched, her heart palpitating wildly, as it seemed to do permanently lately. ‘Millie, what’s going on? What is it I—’

‘You’re saying we’re your mistakes!’ Millie swiped a hand across her face. ‘Ben and me. You’ve said it several times. How do you think hearing that makes us feel? How do you think it makes Dad feel?’

Emily felt the blood drain from her body. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Stunned that Millie would even imagine such a thing, she took a step towards her. ‘I don’t mean you. Why on earth would you …’

Millie backed away. ‘Right, so now I’m ridiculous, am I, as well as a burden and a disappointment?’

‘No!’ Emily shook her head, astounded. Nothing could be further from the truth. She was proud of her children. She loved them. Sometimes she felt her heart physically ache with a combination of love and fear for them. ‘Millie, please don’t think that. That’s not what I meant. I never dreamt you thought—’

‘I’m not you!’ Tears sprang