“You told her you’d follow.”
“Yes.”
“Did you mean it?”
His eyes dropped.
“At first.”
Aaron leaned forward.
“You told my mom you were moving to London?”
Patrick looked at him.
“I did.”
Aaron seemed more confused than angry.
“She never told me that.”
“I don’t think she had any reason to.”
I kept my attention on Patrick.
“What changed?”
“My life was here. Work, my family, everything I’d built.”
“Then when did you tell Lana you weren’t going?”
Patrick hesitated.
Aaron noticed it too.
“You didn’t,” I said.
“I kept thinking I’d make up my mind.”
“You did, Patrick. You were already staying here.”
His jaw tightened.
“It didn’t feel that simple then.”
“So explain it.”
He stood and walked into the kitchen.
I followed before he could turn distance into another ending.
“How long did she wait?”
Patrick gripped the counter.
“Three months. Maybe four.”
Aaron appeared in the doorway behind me.
“My mother waited four months for you?”
Patrick looked at him.
“She deserved better.”
“What were you telling her?”
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