Chapter 40
There is a distinct split in the minibus on the way to the airport. Those members of the party who went home early are now merrily chatting away. The rest of us are slumped in our seats, bleary-eyed, shamefaced, a little bit broken.
‘Well, that’s one blowout done for the next decade,’ Lisa sighs, sipping Diet Coke.
‘And the rest,’ Jeff says, lifting up his sunglasses. ‘Whose idea was it to drink those terrible green things, anyway?’
‘YOURS,’ everyone replies.
He lowers his sunglasses, crosses his arms and pretends to go back to sleep.
My physical state is far from the only issue here, though.
Although Sam and I have said hello and he helped put my bag into the boot of the minibus, I’m finding it hard to look at him.
And while it’s possible that I’m still drunk, the more the alcohol has worn off, the more it has been replaced by a scratchy feeling under my skin.
Long after we’ve passed through security and the others are mooching around Duty Free, I find a seat in front of the big window, where you can watch the planes take off. I am gazing out at the chemtrails in a brilliant blue sky, when Sam appears out of nowhere.
He sits down next to me and looks straight ahead too.
‘Hi,’ I say, softly, turning to him.
‘Hi.’ He looks at me with a cautious smile. ‘How are you feeling?’
There are so many answers to that question; I stick to the simplest one. ‘Like if I make any sudden movements I’ll bring up my lunch.’
‘That good? And, putting aside the gastrointestinal issues, how are you feeling about . . . everything else?’
The backs of my eyes feel hot. ‘Honestly? I’m not sure I even know.’
‘Hmm. Well, I suppose that could be worse.’
‘Look, last night . . .’ I begin, then can’t decide what I want to say. I sigh. ‘I enjoyed it. At the time.’
‘Well, thank God for that.’
He smiles in a clear bid to lighten the mood. It does work, at least a little. ‘So, what’s on your mind? Come on. I’m a big boy. I can take it.’
I look down at my hands. ‘Things are complicated. You know what we talked about over the rosé? About how people have this idea about how you should move on after someone you love has died, but that sometimes it’s just not that easy?’
Recognition filters into his expression.
‘My guess is that you are feeling a bit disoriented after what happened last night. And maybe . . . uncomfortable, even, with the thought of starting a relationship. Am I right?’
He has hit the nail on the head. I nod. ‘And it’s not because I want to go off seeing other men. It’s because—’
‘You don’t have to explain. I get it.’
We’re silent for a moment as I look up at the sky and lose myself momentarily in the clouds. He turns to me again.
‘Please don’t hate me for saying this, though.’
‘What?’ I look back at him.
‘That I understand where your head is and I fully respect all of your boundaries. But by the same token . . .’ He drops his gaze to my mouth before the next words come out. ‘Every time I look at you, all I want to do is kiss you.’
The air between us seems to shift. Everything around us slows. I look at his parted lips, then raise my gaze up to his eyes, overcome by the unbearable and exquisite intensity of the moment.
‘Well, on that particular issue, the feeling is mutual,’ I confess quietly.
He exhales into a smile and reaches up to move a loose tendril of hair from my eyes. ‘You’re so gorgeous.’
‘Hardly.’
‘Oh, no. You absolutely are,’ he says. Then he rests his hand on my neck and caresses my skin with his thumb, gazing into my eyes.
Simultaneously, we move in, until his lips are touching mine, the sheerest of kisses.
It melts through me like liquid amnesia, temporarily obliterating every worry in the world.
And, although I don’t say it out loud, in the back of my head I realise there is only one way to reconcile my physical feelings with what I know I’m emotionally capable of towards Sam.
There is no point in fighting it anymore. Nora got it exactly right.
Friends with benefits it is, then.