The Cornish Beach Hut Café

Chapter 44

44

The Hideaway

Like holes in a string bag

Tuesday

A fter a month spending every night together with Kit, when I wake next morning my fingers are already stretching across the pillow searching to find the warmth of his skin, the curve of his shoulder, the prickle of the stubble on his jawline. It’s only as I open my eyes and take in the soft pink light filtering through the muslin curtains that the realisation slowly seeps through my brain.

He’s not here.

And he won’t ever be here again.

There are a few seconds when I try to bargain with myself. Try imagining a parallel existence where it might work, where we could be together. By the time I’ve reminded myself it’s a lost cause, Shadow is standing over me, a paw each side of my ribs, telling me he’s ready to go. If we’re talking about moving on, this sleepy city dog has definitely warmed up to country living.

And after that we’re into our usual morning routine, which in some ways is more disorientating still. Walking, baking, showering, and rushing off to deliver three dozen scones and Mars bar brownie tray bakes to High Tides. Then because I woke a good hour and a half before I usually would, I’m so ridiculously early there’s still time to bake an extra batch of cookies and to drive into St Aidan to pick up some flowers before we’re due at work.

At least I’ve got things to hold on to as Shadow and I stride into the studio and crash around, splashing water into a tall glass vase, trying to act like we did before any of this began.

‘Morning, Kit, have you heard carnations are having a resurgence? Especially the colour-pop ones.’

He looks so rough he might not have even been to bed. ‘The orange is nice.’

I was up early enough not to have left this to chance either. ‘They represent feelings of happiness, warmth, determination and creativity. They also signify health, balance and success.’ We could both do with all of those things right now. Yesterday it was a struggle to find words, today I can’t stop talking. And my heart is aching so much I feel like there’s an axe embedded in my chest.

Kit puts a basket down on the desk. ‘I’ve got the rings for Milla here.’ He’s holding a soft yellow cloth and some flowery bags with string handles. ‘I’ll leave you to give each one a final buff before you pack them up.’

I pick one with intricately carved flowers and look in at the rest. ‘These are beautiful. The girls will be ecstatic.’

Kit ignores that and rakes his fingers through his hair. ‘I heard you talked to Rye yesterday?’

I stop and look up to meet his eyes. ‘Briefly.’

He frowns. ‘I hope whatever he said wasn’t what prompted your decision?’

I sigh. ‘Kit, we agreed, if ever one of us wanted to stop, we could.’

He blows out his cheeks. ‘The thing with you and me was that however temporary we were, it felt like we were both fully there, every single moment.’

I know he’s right, but that’s all the more reason for me to run for the hills.

He’s biting his lip. ‘I don’t want to pry, but I’d like to understand what changed, because for me what we had is worth fighting for.’ He rubs his thumb across his jaw. ‘At the same time, however good it was, I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not comfortable with.’

He looks so rough, I’m kicking myself for the pain I’m causing. If he’s hurting even half as much as I am, it will feel devastating. If only I hadn’t started this.

However much I’m wavering, I have to put him first. ‘I’m sorry, Kit. I appreciate what you’re saying, but my decision won’t change.’ As I watch his face fall, my chest is aching.

He leans his shoulder on the wall. ‘There’s so much we haven’t said yet.’ He pushes back his hair. ‘Rye mentioned Dillon’s visiting soon. That isn’t the reason you want out?’

‘Definitely not.’ Now the pressure’s off I’ve got a sudden urge to overshare. ‘Dillon and I broke up because I stayed home and watched Gilmour Girls instead of going to his après-Mud-Mucker party. There’s no coming back from stuff like that.’

There’s the hint of a sympathetic smile playing on Kit’s lips. ‘Vee and I broke up because she didn’t want kids.’

It’s random information that has no bearing on me whatsoever, but I feel like I’ve been stabbed through the heart. And where me putting Kit first and pulling away to save his feelings was my definite intention, finding out that Kit cares this strongly about having kids is like a guillotine slicing through every tie. This extinguishes every last remnant of hope that there could ever be anything between us. In endgame terms, I feel like a fly that got squashed by a mallet.

I’ve been playing with fire that I couldn’t handle, and I should be ashamed of myself.

My voice comes out as a high-pitched shriek. ‘Well, who’d have thought! Five hundred orgasms and we still know nothing about each other!’ I look at my phone and then take in Kit, who has hollows in his cheeks so deep he looks like he could be about to expire ... and push on with the rest of my life. ‘The future Mr and Mrs Lugieri-Walker will be here in exactly five minutes. I’d better get you a coffee to bring you round.’