Chapter 46
Daisy and I go our separate ways after the meeting. She’d arranged to meet Calvin for a sandwich, or some plant-based alternative. I’m heading back to the office when I hear footsteps quicken behind me – and turn around to see Zach.
My heart triples in speed at the sheer, beautiful sight of him, the way his face lights up when he sees me.
‘Hey you,’ he says, falling into step.
‘Hey yourself. Where are you off to?’
‘I came out for some fresh air after lunch. Feel like walking the long way back to the office?’
‘Sure,’ I reply, as we fall into step with one another. Media City is sparkling this morning. Sunlight bounces off the office blocks and glitters on the gently rippling water. A film crew is setting up in advance of a live broadcast and the faint percussion of clanging bars from the stage being rigged echoes across the piazza.
‘So I heard today that they’ve decided not to make an official replacement for Rose’s job. Because there are only six weeks until she returns, the team thinks they can keep things ticking over between them. Whether Rose will agree when she’s back and has a mountain of stuff to deal with is another matter . . .’
I force a laugh, unable to truly reconcile the idea of her returning to her desk in six weeks with the way she looked at the weekend. I feel a sliver of anxiety at the thought, even though when I texted her this morning she said she was a little better after a good night’s sleep. ‘So . . . how are you feeling about leaving?’ I ask tentatively.
‘Well,’ he says, considering the question, ‘I’m looking forward to a ton of things I’ve missed, not least the ranch dressing. But I don’t mind admitting that, overall, I am . . .’ he takes a big sigh, ‘ gutted .’
We walk a few more steps before I confess, ‘Me too.’
‘Really? I got the impression you were having regrets. Your texts have kind of dried up this week.’
I can hardly look at him. ‘I’m trying not to set myself up for heartache, Zach,’ I say gently.
He nods thoughtfully.
‘Well, I’ve also been thinking a lot about heartache. And about you and me. And I was wondering . . .’ Then his feet slow as he turns to look at me. ‘Could we make this work long-distance, Lisa?’
I raise my eyebrows. ‘So I’d be Sleepless in Salford ?’
This at least makes him laugh.
The possibility of keeping something going between Zach and me has obviously occurred to me. More than occurred. I desperately want our story not to end here when it’s only just begun. He already feels like one of those rare humans who you meet every so often and just know you want them in your life forever. Him not being here feels so wrong I don’t know where to begin.
Equally, let’s be sensible here. We are no star-crossed lovers.
‘I don’t know, Zach,’ I say quietly.
The disappointment on his face needles me in the side.
‘This wouldn’t be like having a relationship with someone in another state. We’re talking about another continent .’
He looks at the ground and gives an unconvincing nod.
‘Also, I would be terrible at sexting,’ I add.
He gives a sideways smile. ‘You managed to get me very hot under the collar the other night . . .’
‘Must have been a fluke. Maybe this is a generational thing, but I couldn’t bring myself to take a photo that I wouldn’t be prepared to show my grandma.’
‘What if I said I was prepared to live with the mystique? To just . . . use my imagination?’ he says, clearly refusing to continue with this deviation. ‘If you were prepared to give this a go then—’
‘Zach,’ I say, as I stop and turn to him. ‘I don’t think it’s fair of either of us to just hang on in there, our emotions suspended on two sides of the globe. I don’t think it would be good for us. Do you?’
As the words come out of my mouth, I still can’t muster up any conviction for them. That’s not to say I don’t believe what I’m saying. I know this isn’t just the sensible route. It’s the only route.
He blows out his cheeks. ‘You know you should be completely unbearable, being right this often. Somehow, Darling, you get away with it.’
I release a ‘pthwh’ sound. ‘Well, if ever there was evidence that you really don’t know me very well, it’s that . . .’
We start to walk again and after a few steps, I feel something brush against my wrist. We can’t hold hands in public, so he simply locks his forefinger privately with mine. Even with this one tiny connection, it has fired up nerve endings throughout my whole body. I feel a shot of heat behind my eyes.
‘I know enough,’ he says under his breath, then he lets go. We are suddenly in front of our building.
‘Okay. Well, before you go and break my heart, Darling, would you be willing to let me cook for you this weekend? Could you get a babysitter?’
A big smile filters across my face. ‘Russo, I would love that.’