Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
November
Kieran
Karl answered on the second ring.
“Well?” he said, without preamble.
I sank back against the headboard of the hotel bed. “It went well.”
“I thought it might.” I couldn’t miss his quiet note of satisfaction.
I laughed. “You could’ve warned me how intense it would be.”
Karl’s tone remained dry. “What were you expecting, tea and polite conversation?”
“They asked about repertoire, interpretation, teaching philosophy—all fine. I expected that. But the German—” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I knew they’d test it, but I didn’t expect half the panel to switch mid-sentence.”
“And you managed?”
“Just about.” I shifted, glancing at the open notebook beside me, pages filled with vocabulary, corrections, phonetic scribbles. “There were moments where I had to slow everything down, but they didn’t seem to mind.”
“They wouldn’t,” Karl said. “They’re assessing potential, not perfection.”
“That’s what they said,” I admitted. “They were clear about it. As long as I reach a certain level before teaching starts, they’re satisfied.”
“And you will.”
It wasn’t a question.
I nodded. “I’ve been working at it every day. I’ll keep going.”
“You’ll need to,” he said mildly. After a beat, he added, “But they were receptive?”
“Yes.” That part, at least, I didn’t have to think about. “Engaged. Interested. It felt… good.”
More than good. It had felt right.
“And now?” he asked.
“Now I wait. They said I should hear within a couple of weeks.” I paused. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to your apartment. Staying near the airport made sense. Early flight tomorrow, no need to—” I stopped.
“You didn’t want to risk seeing him,” he said.
I exhaled slowly. “No.”
“Why?”
I considered it, because the answer mattered.
“I don’t have anything definite to tell him yet,” I said. “And I’m not—” I searched for it. “I’m not going back like that.”
“You’re being very precise,” he observed.
“I’m trying to be,” I said. “With him… it matters.”
That was as close as I was going to get to saying the rest of it.
After a moment, Karl spoke. “Yes, it does.” Another pause. “If you’re successful, you will need to return.”
I stilled. “I’ve been thinking about that. I might come over anyway. Even if it takes a little time to sort everything out. Just for a few days.”
Karl didn’t hesitate. “Come in December. The Christmas markets will be open.”
I smiled despite myself. “You’re really selling it.”
“I’m stating a fact. Berlin does December very well. And the market in Alexanderplatz has to be seen to be believed.”
I let the idea settle. I could do December.
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
“So you won’t call him?
I took a breath. “No. If I get the job? Then yes.”
He didn’t respond to that. “I’ll let you sleep. You have an early flight, after all. And today must have been exhausting.”
“Thank you, for all your help.”
He chuckled. “My motives were entirely selfish. I want my friend in the same city.”
We finished the call.
A decision had been made. A line had been drawn. December. Berlin.
And this time, I wouldn’t be leaving without knowing where I stood.
December
The terminal was exactly as I remembered it. I waited for my suitcase to arrive on the belt, then headed for the exit, moving with the flow of people, tugging my case behind me, while my thoughts lagged even farther back.
I’d switched on my phone as soon as the plane came to a stop. Karl had messaged, to say he was already here waiting for me once I got through Customs.
I was finally here, and while I’d have to return to the UK in January, it would only be for a month. The University in Berlin were happy for me to start after Easter, and Karl had said I could store all my stuff in his apartment while I looked for somewhere to live.
And I’d spend every minute between now and April working on my German proficiency.
It still hadn’t sunk in that I’d got the job.
Dr. Williams had been surprised when I told her I’d applied for the position, but I had the feeling she wasn’t sorry to see me go. Diana was already promising to visit me as soon as I had a bed for her—and Miles, of course.
Miles was a sweet man, and they were clearly smitten with each other. He’d found it a little strange at first that Diana would be so friendly with her soon-to-be ex-husband, and it hadn’t taken him long to realise the divorce wouldn’t stop us from being friends.
After that, however, we got on like a house on fire. He was already asking if he and Diana could join me in Berlin to see the Christmas markets.
I slowed as I reached the main concourse, the space opening up around me, people parting in different directions, voices overlapping, announcements echoing faintly overhead, and the same taxi drivers touting for passengers.
There was no sign of Karl, and I stood still, looking up and down the wide stretch of walkway, trying to glimpse him.
I was aware of a strange, disorienting sense of being unanchored. I’d finally stepped into something I’d been moving towards for weeks, and now I was here, I didn’t quite know where to place myself in it, caught between where I’d been and whatever came next.
“Are you okay? You look a little lost.”
The voice came from behind me, low and so very familiar.
I turned around, and Stefan stood there, wrapped up in a long black coat, a red scarf around his neck, his gaze focused on me.
God, I remember that focus.
For a moment, I couldn’t speak.
This wasn’t how I’d imagined it. I’d made plans, I’d thought about timing. Calling him first. Something more structured than meeting in the middle of the airport.
“I—” I stopped, swallowed. “Give me a second.”
Stefan didn’t move. Then it hit me.
He doesn’t seem surprised to see me. But only one person had known about my—
“Karl,” I said, a low growl slipping out before I could stop it.
Stefan smiled. “Of course.”
My annoyance cut through the shock. “How much did he tell you?”
He bit his lip, and fuck, I’d missed that.
“We met for coffee yesterday. He told me about the job, and that you were coming here for a few weeks.” His eyes shone. “Congratulations, by the way.”
He shifted closer, until we stood too close for this to be casual.
“I was going to call you,” I said. My voice shook a little. “Once it was confirmed. I didn’t want to—”
“I know,” he said again. He brought his hand up, as if to cup my cheek, then lowered it. “I should have called you,” he said in a low voice. “And long before now.”
I swallowed hard. “But you didn’t.”
Stefan’s Adam’s apple bobbed sharply. “I thought I needed to be certain. About what this was. What it would mean.” He took a breath. “I was wrong.”
I couldn’t move. Stefan didn’t say things like that. At least, the Stefan I remembered didn’t.
My chest tightened. “And now?”
His gaze didn’t waver. “Now I realise I shouldn’t have let you go.”
Everything stilled.
I took a step forward, closing the last of the distance between us. My pulse quickened.
“There was a moment at the station. I was sure you—”
His jaw tightened. “Yes. I nearly asked you to stay.”
My heart thumped. “I would have.”
His breathing caught. “I know.”
“Why didn’t you stop me?” I asked.
I didn’t mean to sound accusatory. I just needed the truth.
“Because I didn’t know if I could give you what staying would have meant.”
His words were as they always had been, honest and uncompromising.
“And now?”
He raised his hand again, and this time it came to rest at the back of my neck.
God, I’ve missed that even more.
“Now I know I’m prepared to find out,” he said, barely audible above the noise around us. After a beat, he added, “With you.”
The words had been in my head for so long, that I couldn’t keep them in a second longer.
“I love you,” I blurted.
For a fraction of a second, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. And then his hand tightened at the back of my neck, pulling me closer, his other hand coming up to my face, holding me there as though he wasn’t letting me move anywhere, not now, not ever.
“I know.” His voice wasn’t steady. Then he frowned. “No.” He shook his head, his gaze locked on mine. “That’s not enough.” He tightened his grip. “I love you.”
Oh dear God. There was no hesitation, no distance, no restraint.
“I should have said it before you got on that train,” he went on, the words coming faster now, like something that had been held inside him too long. “I knew then. I knew, and I still let you walk away.”
My chest was so fucking tight.
“I don’t do this,” he said. “I don’t lose control of something like this, I don’t—” He stopped himself, exhaled sharply, then started again, clearer this time. “I want you.”
He… he said that. Oh my God, he said that.
Stefan paused for a heartbeat. “In my life, not temporarily, not conditionally.” He stroked my neck. “I want you, however that works. However we make it work.”
Kiss me. Stop talking and kiss me. But I had to hear more.
“I thought I needed certainty before I acted.” Stefan cradled my face in his hands. “But what I truly needed was to decide I wasn’t willing to lose you.”
My breathing hitched. Because this was Stefan, and yet it wasn’t.
“So no,” he said quietly, his fingers tracing the line of my cheek. “I’m not pretending this is anything less than what it is.” His eyes met mine. “I love you.”
No retreat. No way to misunderstand it. And this time, there was nothing left between us.
I didn’t move or speak, because I wasn’t sure I could.
I’d imagined this moment, but never with this degree of certainty, not with him standing in front of me, holding nothing back.
Stefan Weber, the man who measured everything, who chose his words with care, who didn’t act until he understood exactly what he was stepping into, was standing in front of me, and there was no distance in him at all.
“Okay,” I said.
It wasn’t enough. I knew that the moment the word left my mouth. I laughed. “Sorry.” I shook my head. “That sounded—”
“Inadequate?” Stefan suggested. His eyes sparkled.
I huffed out a breath. “Yeah.”