Chapter Twenty-nine
This is the last note I’ll send, C. I’m going to be called up soon, but I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave you alone with him. Give me a sign, a nod, a look, anything, so I know that you want me to stay.
H.
KATE
The shop feels empty the day after the festival, though, to be honest, I’m enjoying the peace. I have boxes to unpack and a new window to plan; I’ve got plenty to do.
I’m just coming out with a box when I notice the book sitting on the counter. I put the box down and go over, pick the book up.
It’s I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith. My favourite book as a kid.
It’s not an edition we have in the shop here and I wonder where it comes from. I pick it up and leaf through the pages, only for a note to slip out. The piece of paper flutters in the air and lands on the counter upside down.
A strange, electric feeling gathers inside me.
I turn the paper over. There’s writing on it, in blue ink. A firm, slashing hand.
You don’t have to reply. I’m not expecting anything. I just wanted to tell you that I’m in love with you and that walking away from you was the biggest mistake of my life.
There’s no signature. Only an H.
My throat tightens, a lump rising in it, and the blue ink on the paper wavers. Oh my God. Are those tears? I swore a man wouldn’t make me cry any more and yet here I am, crying.
My chest feels sore and for long minutes all I can do is stare at the book on the counter and the piece of paper.
He wrote me a note. Just as Sebastian did for Kate, all those years ago . . .
Part of me doesn’t want to reply. He told me it was over and, if he’s having second thoughts, then that’s his problem. I should do what the first Kate did and keep the book, not return the note . . .
Yet is this him fighting for me? For us? Is this him picking up his sword? If so, then he’s absolutely going the right way about it. The pen truly is mightier.
I can’t not pick mine up too.
I let him walk away from me two days ago, but I’m not going to walk away from him.
I pull out a piece of paper and choose my own sword – red ink, of course – and I write back.
How dare you not expect anything of me? You should expect something. You should expect everything.
C
I put the note back in the book and, when Mrs Abbot comes in to collect an order, I ask her if she’ll take it across the road to Blackwood Books.
She gives me the oddest smile, but does so.
Five minutes later, the door to Portable Magic bangs open and Sebastian strides in. He’s dressed in black and his eyes are glowing bright blue.
There are customers in the bookshop, but he looks only at me. ‘Out,’ he commands, and I know he’s not speaking to me.
The customers flee, and I don’t protest. There’s only one person in the world worth bothering about in this moment and he’s standing in my bookshop, staring at me.
He shuts the door, locks it. Then strides over to the counter.
I’m standing behind it, my heart beating its way out of my chest. ‘How dare you?’ There’s no heat in my voice. ‘Those were my customers.’
‘I don’t care.’ He is fierce. ‘Tell me what I should expect, Kathryn.’
I love the way he says my name. I love how sure it sounds in his mouth.
I love him.
‘A happy ending, Sebastian,’ I tell him. ‘That’s what you should expect. That’s what you deserve and it’s what I deserve too. The happy ending that Sebastian and Kate never got.’
‘What if I told you they did?’
I open my mouth. Close it. ‘But they—’
‘There should be a postcard in Rose’s effects,’ he says. ‘I’ll show you later. But you should know that they were together in the end, and I think that’s what we should be too. Together.’ He moves towards me, coming around the counter to where I’m standing, and I can’t breathe. The electricity pouring off him, the fierce burn of his eyes pinning me to the spot like a butterfly on a board.
I brace myself, waiting for him to reach for me, but he doesn’t. He stays where he is, keeping some distance between us.
‘I love you, Kate,’ he says. ‘I loved you the moment I first saw you.’
‘But you walked away.’ I don’t want to argue with him, but of course I’m not able to stop myself. ‘You told me we couldn’t be together.’
‘I know. But I was wrong. And I was a coward. You told me all those things you thought I was and I . . . I didn’t think I could be any of them. I didn’t think I was good enough, and it was easier to walk away than to try.’
My throat closes and I have to swallow. Hard. ‘You don’t have to try, Sebastian. You already are that man. You were him all along.’
He doesn’t move; his hands are clenched. ‘I don’t feel like I am. When my mother died and my father drank, I closed myself off. I closed myself down, because it was easier. And I never learned how to deal with any of these . . . fucking emotions.’ His expression is taut and he’s breathing fast. ‘I still don’t and I’m . . . I’m fucking terrified. But . . . Kathryn, my beautiful Kate. I can’t live without you and I don’t want to. And you can’t go back to Fuckface and you can’t go with Lisa . . . You just can’t leave me. I won’t have it.’
He’s struggling, this all-or-nothing man, who’s apparently decided he wants it all. And I can see his fear. If easy was what he wanted, he’d never have written me that note, never have charged across the road and burst into my bookshop. But here he is, standing in front of me, fighting for what he wants.
Fighting for me.
I can’t stand the distance between us now. It feels wrong, and he’s made it this far, so I’m the one who closes the final gap. Who crosses that last piece of distance, which ends up being no distance at all.
It’s me who reaches up to lay my palm against his warm cheek. ‘Then I won’t leave,’ I say simply. ‘I’ll stay here. With you.’
He reaches up to my hand and covers it with his own, holding my palm against his skin. The look in his sharp blue eyes is painful. ‘Are you sure? I’m not an easy man. In fact, I can be fucking awful, ask anyone here.’
‘I’ve already asked most people here, and they say you’re aloof sometimes and reserved sometimes, but you’re also a good man.’
A muscle flicks in his jaw. He’s so tense. ‘Fuck . . . I don’t know what to say now. I’ve never been in love before. I’ve never even had a proper relationship before.’
I smile, love filling my chest, inflating my heart like a balloon so that it presses painfully against my ribs. ‘Well, I have,’ I say. ‘And I can help you with that.’ Then I put my hand on his chest and rise on my toes, and I kiss him.
And the magic happens. The same magic that’s always happened between us.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers against my lips. ‘I shouldn’t have walked away.’
‘And I shouldn’t have let you go. I should have gone after you, but you’re not the only one who was afraid.’
His hands drop to my hips and, before I can protest, I find myself being lifted and sat on the counter. Then he lets go and puts his hands down on either side of me, looking down at me, and I love his closeness. I love his warmth and his scent. ‘What are you afraid of?’ he asks.
‘That I’m not enough for you.’
He pushes a curl behind my ear, his fingers brushing my skin and making me shiver. There are flames in his eyes now and I feel consumed by them in the best way. ‘I know you, and I think you’re the most incredible woman. You’re smart and passionate and fierce and loyal. You’re everything I didn’t know I needed.’ He takes my face between his hands and his mouth covers mine and he kisses me for a long, long time.
Then, finally, when I’m breathing far too fast and far too hard, and I’m wondering when he’s going to take me upstairs and whether we can even make it, he lifts his head and says, ‘The first time I saw you, I thought you were like sunshine.’
My heart inflates a little more. ‘Really? I thought you were an arrogant dick.’
Sebastian Blackwood smiles at me then, warm and full of tenderness, and it’s the best smile I’ve ever seen from anyone ever. ‘Guilty as charged,’ he murmurs, insufferable as always.
I smile. ‘Is this it, then? Is this our happy ending?’
‘Oh no,’ he says, pulling me close. ‘This is not the end of our story, Miss Jones. Not while we’re still writing it.’
We’re writing it still.
And – spoiler alert – it’s still happy.