Chapter Twenty-seven
I can’t, H. Please don’t ask me any more. Let it go.
C
KATE
It’s Sunday, the last day of the festival, and Portable Magic is having a romance panel, consisting of my book-club attendees, festival-goers interested in knowing more about the genre, and some authors I managed to pull in.
The bookshop is packed.
I have my brightest smile pinned to my face and the ‘good thoughts’ mantra on repeat in my head.
Anything to blot out the memory of Sebastian the night before, striding away from me, no looking back, no hesitation. If he was Orpheus and I was Eurydice, I’d have come back from the underworld alive and well and singing hallelujah.
I watched him go, his tall figure wavering, and even though I expected it, my eyes were full of shocked, painful tears.
I told him I loved him and it wasn’t enough in the end, and if I was the strong, modern woman I’m supposed to be, I’d laugh and say ‘Good riddance’ and get on with living my strong, modern life.
But there’s no laughter left inside me and I don’t feel strong. I feel broken, and all I can think is a bitter ‘Of course’. Of course he doesn’t want me.
Men have always let down the women in our family and why would I think he was different?
I don’t regret what I said, though, no matter how it hurts.
The truth is important and I was done with lying.
‘Isn’t that right, Kate?’ someone says.
I blink and realise I’m supposed to be managing this panel, not vaguing out and staring into space, brooding over my poor broken heart.
I take a deep breath and force away the pain. ‘Yes,’ I say to Mrs Abbot, who was the one who spoke, though I have no idea what she actually said. ‘Who else has a question?’
A woman by the door raises a hand and I point to her.
‘Happy endings,’ the woman says. ‘Are they mandatory in a romance?’
A Greek chorus of shrieking from the book-club regulars erupts in response, and the noise rises as lots of people leap in with opinions, talking over each other.
No. It’s a good thing that we’re not together any more, and I have to tell myself that. It’s better if he walks away, because if he doesn’t want what I do, then I’m better off without him.
It’s too soon after Jasper anyway, and Sebastian is a lot to handle. He’s moody and intense, a dark cloud, while I prefer the sunshine.
We argue a lot. We’re too different. He’s too arrogant and he likes his own way far too much, and I’m stubborn. I don’t like being told what to do.
Basically, even if he did feel the same way I do, it wouldn’t work out between us, so there’s no point being hurt about it.
It’s all for the best.
‘Not always,’ I say to myself, because sometimes grand romances don’t have happy endings.
An elbow suddenly digs into my side and I startle.
Every single person in the packed bookshop is staring at me in surprised silence. The festival-goers have interested looks on their faces, while the book-club attendees express nothing but betrayal.
‘Oops,’ Aisling murmurs from her seat beside mine. ‘That’s not what you were supposed to say. You’re the convener, Kate. You’d better start convening.’
Happy endings. Are they even possible in real life? When reality is so full of pain and tragedy? Right now I can’t think of one love story I know of that ended happily.
Including my own.
‘Um,’ I say, intelligently.
‘Do you really think so, Kate?’ Mrs Abbot frowns ferociously at me.
But my attention is diverted. I’m staring out the window at the preparations going on across the road for Lisa’s second signing session in Blackwood Books. At the queue extending out of the bookshop and down the road.
At Sebastian standing in his front window, looking out at Portable Magic. Looking out at me.
We haven’t spoken since last night and he hasn’t sent a text. Neither have I. But I feel all of it again in my chest, a heavy, solid ache. Not that the pain ever went: it’s been there since he walked away from me and I think it’ll probably never leave.
He looks at me a second longer and then turns away.
Everyone in this stupid panel about stupid romance is still looking at me, expecting me to talk intelligently about happiness and happy endings when inside my heart is breaking. And no number of good thoughts is going to help, I know that now.
I stand jerkily. ‘Mrs Abbot,’ I say, my voice sounding strangled. ‘Would you take over for me? I’m not feeling the best.’
Before anyone can say a word, I shove my chair to the side and I flee for the door to my flat and stumble up the stairs. And when I get to the top, I allow myself a couple of little sobs. Then I scrub fiercely at my face.
I don’t care, I chant inside my head. I don’t care about him.
‘Kate?’ Aisling’s voice floats up from the bottom of the stairs.
Really, I’m pleased and thankful for all the friends I’ve made since coming here, but right now, I’m wishing they’d all bugger off.
‘I’m fine,’ I say, hoping I’m convincing enough. ‘Just a little headache.’
I move away from the stairs, go into my kitchen, and stand at the sink with a glass. Turn on the tap and fill it.
‘I don’t think you’re fine,’ Aisling says, appearing in the doorway, evidently having followed me up the stairs.
So . . . not convincing, then. Great.
‘It’s just a headache, Ash,’ I say determinedly, because if I say it enough times, then maybe it’ll be true.
‘Really? It must be more than that for you to leave one of your favourite events.’
She is, alas, not wrong.
I take a bracing gulp of the water I didn’t even want to start with, then try yet another meaningless smile. ‘Sebastian and I are over,’ I say lightly, even though saying the words out loud makes me want to cry. ‘I told him I loved him and he told me he can’t do casual. So, there you have it.’
Aisling frowns. ‘Wait, what? You told him you loved him? Since when did you love him?’
‘Since he first kissed me, probably,’ I admit. ‘And please don’t give me any pity or say “I told you so”. I couldn’t help it and it’s obviously a disaster, and, really, the best thing is just to forget it ever happened.’
Aisling folds her arms and gives me a stern look. ‘I would never say I told you so and you know that. Same with pity. And love, well . . . You can’t choose it. Sometimes it just happens, and at the worst possible moment with the worst possible person.’
I swallow and put down my glass. ‘I would never have chosen him. I would have chosen . . . well . . . anyone else.’
‘You told him, though.’
‘A stupid thing to do.’
Aisling shakes her head. ‘Uh, no. A brave thing to do. If he can’t handle that, then he’s not worth it.’
My throat has a lump in it the size of Scotland and nothing I do will make it go away. ‘Tell my stupid heart that,’ I say.
Aisling lets out a breath and, before I can stop her, she comes around the counter and gives me a giant hug. I resist a moment, then I relax and let her hug me, the warmth of feminine support and comfort strengthening me.
‘My ex arrived last night,’ I say, the words spilling out. ‘He saw the festival advertising and decided to make the trip up to see me. He told me he loved me and that he wants me back.’
Aisling releases me gently, then goes about the very British business of making emergency support tea. ‘That’s not what you want?’
I’m not going to tell her the details about Jasper, not yet. But I will.
‘No.’ I lean back against the counter, feeling a bit better. ‘He was . . . not a nice guy when I was with him. Anyway, he told me he’s been working on himself.’
‘Hmm,’ Aisling mutters as she puts on the kettle. ‘One of those.’
I sigh. ‘I used to think I knew what love was, but then he turned up and I knew it wasn’t him that I loved. I loved Sebastian.’
Aisling gets down the teapot from the cupboard, finds the tea and puts in the leaves. ‘And Sebastian was being an oblivious dick, I take it?’
‘I told him I loved him and he said I couldn’t, that he’d only disappoint me and that it was better if we weren’t together.’
‘Oh dear,’ Aisling murmurs, as the kettle boils and switches itself off. ‘He really is the stupidest man in creation.’
‘He’s not stupid,’ I say, though I don’t know why I’m defending him. ‘He just isn’t in love with me.’
Aisling stops her tea-making. Turns. Gives me the world’s flattest stare. ‘Are you kidding? That man has been in love with you since you got here.’
A shock courses through me. ‘What? Why would you say that?’
‘It’s obvious. Every time you’re in a room he can’t take his eyes off you.’ She pours the water into the teapot. ‘It’s like you’re the only thing he’s conscious of. Everyone’s noticed, believe me.’
I don’t know what to say. ‘But . . . he was angry when I told him how I felt.’
‘Of course he’s angry. He’s an emotionally illiterate man who doesn’t know what to do with his feelings, and you know men. Well, some men. When they have a problem they don’t know how to fix, they get angry. Especially if that problem concerns their emotions.’
I remember Sebastian’s face from last night. The tension in him. The fury in his blue eyes. The emphatic way he said ‘I am none of those things’ when I told him who he was to me.
‘Why the hell would you fall in love with me?’
‘I don’t know, Ash,’ I say. ‘I gave him all these reasons why I thought he was amazing and he . . . he was so angry about it. I think he doesn’t see himself the way I see him.’
‘No, he probably doesn’t.’ Aisling gets out the teacups. ‘He probably saw your reasons as a whole lot of expectations he can’t meet.’
‘They’re not expectations,’ I protest. ‘He’s already met them. He already is all of those things. He doesn’t have to try being them.’
‘Does he know that?’
‘I don’t know. He didn’t give me a chance to explain. He just walked away.’
‘Hmm . . .’ Aisling puts the cosy on the teapot. ‘You didn’t go after him?’
Slowly I shook my head.
She frowns. ‘Why not?’
It’s hard to say, but I force the words out. ‘Because I didn’t think it would make any difference. He’s clearly decided.’
‘And so have you.’
Another shock goes through me. ‘What?’
‘You’ve clearly decided that you’re going to let him go.’ She goes to the fridge and gets out the milk.
‘I haven’t,’ I protest.
‘Haven’t you? You let him walk away without a fight.’
‘All we’ve done since we met is fight,’ I say, because it’s true. ‘I don’t want to fight any more.’
She eyes me for a long minute. ‘Strange. You dig in and fight with him over the most petty bullshit, yet the one time it really matters, when it’s really important, you give up almost immediately.’
I feel like she’s sunk a knife into my side. ‘That’s not how it is.’
‘Isn’t it?’ Aisling gives me a stern look. ‘You were so angry when he didn’t include you in the festival and you fought hard to get Portable Magic involved. You wouldn’t take his no for an answer. Yet the moment he says no thanks to your declaration of love, you let him walk away.’
I swallow, my throat tight. She’s right and I know she is. ‘I didn’t think it would make any difference,’ I say. ‘He was so emphatic and so . . . angry, that I didn’t think fighting for it would help.’
‘Are you sure?’ She’s facing me and her green eyes are very direct. She’s not going to let me get away with this. ‘Or was it just that you didn’t have the guts?’
That hurts. It hurts a lot. But she doesn’t know about Jasper and what he did to me, so it’s not her fault. Also . . . she’s probably right.
She catches the look on my face and sighs. ‘I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean that. But how important is this to you? How important is he to you? You’re afraid, I get that. Being in love is scary. But if he’s worth fighting for then you have to fight for him.’
My eyes feel dry and prickly, and it’s true what she says. I want to fight for him. I want to fight for us and what we could have, but I’m afraid it won’t be enough.
‘I would,’ I say. ‘But I don’t want to fight on my own. He’s got to fight too, and I’m not sure he’s going to.’
Aisling is silent a moment. Then she picks up the teapot. ‘Come on. Let’s have a cup of tea and discuss how we’re going to get Sebastian Blackwood to pick up his sword and head the fuck into battle.’