Greg was appalled at what he'd done. He'd fallen hopelessly in love with Alice in the short time that he'd known her, and it had all been going so well. She'd trusted him, bared her soul to him, and now he'd lost her, just because he'd been too selfish and blind to be honest with her, too wrapped up in his own problems. He'd ruined everything, and now he was paying the price. He was a broken man.
A mug of coffee went cold, unheeded, next to him as he stared into space. She shouldn't have been driving in that state. What if something had happened to her? Fear gripped his heart. He should check if she had got home safely. How long had it been? He had no idea how much time had elapsed since she had rushed out of his house in floods of tears, never looking back as he tried in vain to call to her.
A dozen times he picked up his mobile, and a dozen time he put it down again, having no idea what he could possibly say to her to make things right. No, he had to know that she was safe, at least. He picked it up again. No messages, no calls. He forced himself to look for the picture of her in his contacts and press the dial button.
He listened to it ring. And ring. And ring. When the automated voice kicked in to tell him that the number he had called was not answering, he sat there numbly, the 'phone pressed to his ear until it finally went dead. He could go round to hers, but he could imagine her reaction. No, he'd blown it, she didn't want to see him ever again.
The house seemed so empty, and he'd never felt more alone. Lunchtime came and went, but he couldn't face eating. He jumped as his mobile rang, unnatural loud in the gloomy silence. He snatched it up eagerly, then his face fell as he saw an unknown number. He didn't feel up to talking to anybody else, but it rang persistently, and he finally hit the answer button.
"Hello?"
"What the fuck is going on?"
Even though the words were whispered, as though the caller didn't want to be overheard, the anger in them was unmistakeable, as was the voice.
"Chloe? Is your Mum OK?"
She hissed at him.
"No, of course she's not OK. She picked me up from school in tears, never said a word, and now she's in pieces in the kitchen. What the hell did you say to her?"
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to upset her. She thought I was trying to break up with her."
"Were you?"
"No! It was a misunderstanding. I had a lot on my mind, and I said all the wrong things. I just thought it was wrong for her to tie herself to some old guy that she'd end up being a nursemaid for, or pushing around in a ..."
"A wheelchair, yeah. Thanks."
"Shit, I'm really sorry, Chloe. I can't say anything right today."
She almost felt sorry for him as he choked up.
"Obviously."
"Chloe, can you tell her that I didn't ..."
"No, I'm not telling her anything. Get round here and tell her yourself!"
He was dimly aware that he really shouldn't be letting a sixteen year old, even one who was a lot more mature than her years, tell him what to do, but he didn't care any more. He wanted Alice back. He knew with absolute certainty now that he couldn't bear to lose her.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, you idiot. Now!"
She hung up on him.
His heart was beating fast. Was there really a chance to make things right again? There was only one way to find out. He slung on a jacket, grabbed his car keys and set off for Alice's place. He was actually trembling a little when he rang her doorbell. After what seemed like an age, the door finally opened to reveal Chloe in her wheelchair, glowering at him.
"She's in the kitchen."
Sheepishly he followed her, to see Alice sitting at the kitchen table, her face streaked with tears. She looked up at him bleakly.
"What do you want? Come to finish me off?"
Her pain was unbearable to him, a dagger to his heart. He had to make this right.
"Alice, I'm so sorry, I love you."
"Is that why you want me to look for someone else?"
"No! I didn't mean that. I'd had a disturbing 'phone call just before you arrived, I was full of self-doubt, and when we, er," he looked across at Chloe, who had her arms folded and showed no sign of leaving them alone, "tried to, er, you know - anyway, I just thought that I was too old for you, and that you wouldn't want to be stuck with a geriatric like me."
"So what gives you the right to decide what I would want? Don't I get any say in that?"
"Of course! Alice, I wasn't trying to break up with you!"
"Oh. What were you trying to do, then?"
"I don't know. Do the right thing by you, I suppose, not pressurise you into a long-term commitment with someone who would be an old man while you were still in your prime. I love you so much, and I worry about your welfare. I just want you to be happy."
Her expression softened a little.
"You've never pressurised me, Greg, and I am committed already, because I want to be."
A flicker of hope flared up at the present tense, as she continued,
"I'd never seen you like that before. I just assumed that it was because of me. That you'd had enough of me."
"No! Never! I was still thinking about the 'phone call, it wasn't you at all."
"What was this 'phone call, then?"
He explained about his own daughter's cry for help, and his worries about her relationship and financial situation.
"Oh, Greg. You should have told me."
"I know, and I'm really sorry. Chloe's right, I am an idiot."
He could see Chloe frantically shaking her head at him behind her mother's back. He went on, hurriedly.
"The point is, I love you, Alice, and I don't want to lose you."
She stood up, a little shakily, and smiled for the first time since she'd left his house, a lifetime ago.
"Then come here and kiss me, you idiot."
He was well aware of the irony of the so-called dominant being bossed around by two of the women in his life, and it didn't bother him one little bit. All that he cared about right now was that Alice was back in his arms, her lips warm and soft against his. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Chloe wheeling herself off to her room, smiling contentedly, her work done.
Alice pulled away again.
"Are you sure you want to take on two neurotic women?"
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life. Are you sure you can put up with a depressive idiot?"
"How about we discuss that in the morning?"
Her mischievous grin was back, and he felt as though a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He happily followed her up the stairs.
The change in atmosphere at the breakfast table was palpable. Chloe smiled to herself when she saw that Greg was still there, and noted her Mum's glowing cheeks and the way they looked at each other.
"So, I'm assuming that you guys are OK again?"
Alice blushed slightly.
"Um, yes, definitely. No problems at all."
She exchanged a warm, conspiratorial look with Greg which made Chloe roll her eyes again.
"Actually," said Greg, hastily changing the subject and trying not to think about last night's joyous make-up sex, "we were just talking about going on holiday together next year."
"Sounds like a good idea. Where will you go?"
"Where will *we* go?" Alice corrected her.
"Oh no, you don't want a third leg, or no legs, cramping your style. Go off and enjoy each other."
Greg frowned.
