Chapter Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Seven
I don’t start to panic and regret sending it until the next morning when I can see he’s seen it but hasn’t responded.
Dylan is sleeping on my sofa because he had one too many wines and couldn’t be bothered to walk home.
I don’t want to wake him before I have to, so I leave him a note on the coffee table to say I’ve gone out running, which route and when I should be back.
Sick with dread, I pull my running kit on and step outside onto the pavement in search of the sea. I run until all I can think about is how hard running is. I blast dance anthems to keep me focused on putting one foot in front of the other, hoping I don’t publicly humiliate myself by crying.
How could he not reply? Surely, he understood the context. What if he’s regretting everything that happened? Did Sam speak to him? My heart feels too big for my chest, and I keep having to swallow lumps that form in my throat.
I’m two miles away from home when I realise, I didn’t check the weather before heading out.
Fat raindrops slap my cheek, blown sideways by the gales chopping off the water.
I pause on a quiet, wide stretch of the seafront, holding onto one of the black, metal railings separating the walkway from the pebble beach.
I check my phone. Still no message.
The winds pick up. Without my music on, it’s just the constant roar of the winter waves crashing and retreating from the shore. As the clouds separate and the rain starts to tip down, proper January, British rain, I turn for home.
That’s when I notice the tall, wide-shouldered figure heading my way, running in jeans and a drenched jumper. His hair is plastered to his head, his eyes intent on me.
I feel his gaze like a shockwave.
I can’t move, except to run a hand over my face, wiping away the rain so I can see.
He stops a few steps in front of me, his face unsure.
“You’re here,” I shout over the weather and the waves, fighting to be heard.
He nods. “Dylan told me you were out running.”
I swallow. “You didn’t reply to my message.”
“I didn’t know how to convey what I wanted to say in a text. I tried. I just… Sam came by last night. We spoke for hours. I didn’t see your message until right before bed. I left first thing this morning.”
“Is Sam ok?”
He nods, raindrops dripping from his fringe. “We got a lot off our chests. It feels like there was so much we just held onto. And it’s no surprise really. The things he thought I did to him. The betrayal. I get it.”
“And does he?”
Another gust of wind nearly knocks me sideways. Freddie steps closer, his hand holding my elbow to keep me upright. “He’s going to try,” he says with a frustrated laugh. “I don’t think we’re ever going to see eye to eye. Not fully.”
“What about…”
Freddie smiles. “Us?”
I can barely nod. I’m too afraid of the answer.
He swipes a thumb over my cheek, sweeping up raindrops. “It’s pretty simple really. Because I don’t care. I love you, I’m sorry.”
A feral, gurgled laugh bursts from my lips. It’s the most unromantic sound. “I love you too.”
My lips quiver. From the cold or because I’m on the verge of tears, I can’t tell.
But it doesn’t matter because then his hands are hot on my neck, not a care in the world that I’m covered in sweat from running.
And we’re kissing and he’s so warm, it feels incredible.
He tastes salty, like the sea air has tainted his lips.
But he breaks off, now cradling my face in his large, warm palms, our noses practically grazing. “But I refuse to be the villain in your life. You’re not breaking your own rules. We’ll use them to prove this is it for us.”
I frown. “How?”
“We’ll date, exclusively. We won’t call it a relationship. If that’s what you want, that is?”
I smile and nod. “Date exclusively? Isn’t that the same thing.”
“Shh. Don’t complicate this.”
“Will you travel with me?”
“If you want me to. I’ll do anything with you. I’ll go anywhere with you. I want to run this route with you in the morning. I want to sit there and watch you paint. I want to buy you a house overlooking the sea. I want you.”
I swear I’m crying but it’s such an overwhelming statement, I can barely work out what’s up from what’s down. He wants me. Freddie wants me.
“What was your other rule?” he asks.
“Rule?” My brain short circuits but then I remember. “Oh. To live alone for a year.”
Freddie scrunches his drenched face. “Then that’s the rule. And I’ll respect it.”
“You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?”
“It’s important. You wrote those rules because you needed them. I’m not going to be the one to trample all over your boundaries.”
I shake my head in his hands. “What if I want to break them?”
“Don’t. Don’t break them for anyone. We’ll just bend them slightly.”
I throw myself at him, kissing the rain drops off his rugged face, tasting them on his lips. He presses me up against the railings behind us, picking me up and propping my butt on the cold metal so that he can stand between my thighs.
It’s completely indecent in public but I don’t care. All I can think about is him. He’s every bit of me.
And he loves me, he’s sorry.