REMI
Sebastian holds my gaze for a second, those bright green eyes shimmering with something unspoken, then he crashes his lips onto mine, completely unconcerned that we’re standing in the middle of a crowded platform.
I can’t help myself. I slide my fingers into his silky hair, still faintly scented with my shampoo, and pull him closer, deepening the kiss like I’ll never get enough of his soft, sweet mouth.
But I force myself to stop. Just barely.
“Go, Seb,” I murmur, my voice rough. “Or you’ll miss your train. And if you don’t get on now… I won’t be able to let you go.”
He gives me a faint smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his cheek, not enough to summon that maddening little dimple I love so much.
And maybe that’s for the best.
I know he’s scared of what’s waiting for him at home. But he has to follow his own path, in his own time.
So I brush my fingers over his cheek one last time and let him go.
He grabs the handle of that unmistakable suitcase and walks away, still impossibly graceful, even in jeans and a hoodie, even with that ridiculous fuchsia case trundling behind him. His loose hair frames his face like a halo, soft and luminous in the morning light.
He’s stunning. He always is.
Just before stepping onto the train, he turns and waves. His lips move:“See you soon. I’ll call tonight.”
And I know, without a shadow of doubt, I’m screwed.
Completely, helplessly addicted.
His scent, his taste, the warmth of his skin, I already crave him like a drug, and it terrifies me.
What if he goes home and realizes I’m not worth it?
What if he decides this, us, isn’t worth turning his life upside down?
We’re in dangerous waters now. And I meant every word when I told him I’d be here, no matter what.
But Anne’s words about the Arnettes still echo in my mind. Sharp. Unshakable.
This trip to Stratford might be more than just a visit.
It might be the real test of whether Sebastian can break free, or if they’ll find a way to reel him back in.
What if their controlling nature pushes Sebastian to keep hiding who he really is?
What if they make him believe that what we have, this fragile, beautiful thing, is something shameful?
And Maddie… God. Would she really go so far as to stir up drama just to hurt him? It seems unthinkable, but heartbreak twists people. Warps them. And she will be hurt. That much is inevitable.
But I know one thing with absolute certainty: I’m not letting him go. Not now. Not after everything we’ve shared. Not after what he’s shown me, of himself, of us.
As the train disappears into the horizon, I turn and begin the walk home. The ache in my chest lingers, but I force myself to focus on the present. On the day ahead.
I’ll hit the pool, then the gym. I’ve got time, and I could use the endorphins. Maybe even brunch with Francis, it’s been too long since we properly caught up. And if I’m honest, it’s time I talked to him. Really talked.
There’s too much at stake to keep pretending nothing’s changed.
I pull out my phone to text him, but a notification from Maddie flashes across the screen. I hesitate, already bracing for impact.
And, yep, I was right. A voice message. Calm on the surface, carefully composed, like she’s trying not to sound too upset. She wants to talk soon. “Clarify where we stand.” “Work things through.”
A groan escapes me as I stride toward the Tube.
I hate the idea of hurting her. I really do.
But the truth is… I don’t think I ever truly loved Maddie.
Not the way I should have. Not the way she deserved.
I can’t bring myself to tell Sebastian that yet, not out loud, but what I feel for him? It’s something else entirely.
It’s this overwhelming sense of being seen, of wanting to protect him instinctively. It’s desire that borders on unbearable.
And beneath all that, it’s tenderness. Deep. Crushing. All-consuming.
And I don’t want to live without it.
Yes, I care about Maddie. I always will. But we’re young. We weren’t planning forever. We weren’t talking about marriage or kids. We were… safe. Comfortable.
And now I know, safety and comfort aren’t enough.
She’ll be devastated when she finds out the truth. Maybe even furious. But she’s smart. Eventually, she’ll understand that being with someone who didn’t fully love her, who couldn’t, was never going to make her happy.
If Sebastian and I had met under different circumstances, no one would bat an eye. Breakups happen. Feelings change. People move on.
Okay, this? A supposedly straight man falling for his girlfriend’s ex?
Yeah, it’s a bit unconventional. I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t make what I feel for him any less real. And it doesn’t make my determination any less fierce.
I’m not going to avoid the conversation with Maddie. That wouldn’t be fair. She deserves clarity. She deserves to hear the truth from me.
Not just the fact that we’re over, she already knows that much.
What she doesn’t know is why.
She deserves to hear the truth.
That I’ve fallen for someone else. For Sebastian.
It’s going to hurt. I know that. But lying to her, letting her believe it was just confusion, or distance, or timing, would hurt more in the long run. She’s strong. She’ll be angry. Maybe heartbroken.
But she’s also too perceptive not to have sensed that someone else might be taking up space in my heart.
And once the truth is out, I’ll have to face the rest.
I’ll need to sort out my living situation. The lease is still in both our names, and there’s no way I can afford the full rent on my own. Whether Maddie stays in New York or comes back to London, one thing’s clear: I’ll need to find a new place.
I’m not too stressed about it, to be honest. After all those years crammed into a literal shoebox with Francis, I know how to adapt. I’ve lived with worse.
Speaking of Francis…
I hit record and fire off a voice note to Maddie, keeping my tone steady and calm. I suggest we talk tomorrow.
Then I finally shoot Francis a message:
REMI
HEY FRAN, HOW ARE YOU, MATE?
DID YOU GUYS MANAGE TO ESCAPE UNSCATHED FROM THE CLUTCHES OF MISS MORRIS LAST NIGHT?
SERIOUSLY, YOUR GIRLFRIEND’S A GENIUS. IF IT HADN’T BEEN FOR HER, I HAVE NO IDEA HOW WE WOULD’VE PULLED IT OFF!
Francis is online and replies immediately. As I read his message, I can practically hear his smug voice in my head.
FRANCIS
ANNE IS A GENIUS, YES. DON’T WORRY, I MADE SURE SHE WAS PROPERLY REWARDED…
REMI
SPARE ME THE DETAILS, THANKS…
FRANCIS
AS FOR MISS MORRIS, I DON’T THINK YOU NEED TO WORRY TOO MUCH.
SHE WAS SO HYSTERICAL ABOUT HER RUINED DRESS THAT YOUR PIANIST’S GREAT ESCAPE ENDED UP BEING THE LEAST OF HER CONCERNS, JUST AS MY LITTLE EVIL GENIUS PREDICTED…
I freeze instinctively in the middle of the street.
Your pianist? Hmm… Has Francis already figured it out?
No, he can’t have… right?
Still, it’s definitely time to talk to him. I don’t think I can keep pretending much longer, not in front of my best friend.
REMI
HOW ABOUT NOAH AND JAMIE? I HOPE THEY WEREN’T TOO UPSET BY OUR VANISHING ACT.
FRANCIS
ARE YOU KIDDING? THEY WERE BUZZING. BETWEEN THE CONCERT AND THE POST-SHOW CHAOS, THEY HAD THE TIME OF THEIR LIVES.
ACTUALLY… I’M PRETTY SURE THEY WENT HOME TO CELEbrATE THE SUCCESS OF THE PLAN.
LAST I SAW THEM, THEY WERE PRACTICALLY FUSED TOGETHER.
REMI
FRANCIS!! SERIOUSLY. I DO NOT NEED UPDATES ON MY FRIENDS’ SEX LIVES.
FRANCIS
SUCH A PRUDE…
I snort out loud. A prude. If only he knew.
REMI
WHATEVER. LISTEN, ARE YOU FREE FOR brUNCH? THERE’S SOMETHING I NEED TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT.
FRANCIS
FINALLY.
REMI
WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?
FRANCIS
COME ON, REMI. IT’S OBVIOUS.
ANYWAY, YEAH, I’M FREE. ANNE’S MEETING A FRIEND AND WON’T BE BACK TILL FOUR.
SCARLETT GREEN? IT’S NEAR MINE.
REMI
COULD WE DO SOMEWHERE A LITTLE MORE PRIVATE?
FRANCIS
RELAX. SCARLETT GREEN’S FINE. YOU CAN GRAB ONE OF THE BOOTHS IN THE BACK, IT’S QUIET THIS TIME OF DAY.
REMI
PERFECT. THANKS, MAN. SEE YOU SOON.
FRANCIS
NO PROBLEM, brO. NOW, IF YOU’LL EXCUSE ME, I’M OFF TO WAKE ANNE UP… AND MAYBE DRAG HER INTO THE SHOWER.
Oh God. Classic Francis.
I shoot back one last reply before hopping onto the train:
REMI
OKAY, OKAY, I REALLY DIDN’T NEED TO KNOW THAT. ENJOY, YOU MENACE.
I shove my phone into my pocket and steel myself for a full day without Sebastian.
Baby…
The word echoes in my head, and just as the Tube doors slide shut, I catch myself grinning like an idiot, remembering the look on his face every time I call him that.
That mix of surprise, delight, and the faintest hint of pink in his cheeks.
Baby.
God help me.
I’m already a goner.