Chapter 18 #2
“I don’t think you actually choose love, Niall. It’s got its own opt-in clause,” he says wryly. “One of those deals that seal you in because you can’t read the small print.”
“When can you read it?”
“Never,” he says softly. “And in the end, you don’t want to because it feels both too good and too bad to ever want to leave.”
Milo
When I wake, I stretch and send one hand out to find Niall.
I crack open my eyes sleepily, but the bed is huge and empty apart from me and the sheets are cold where they aren’t wrapped around my body.
I lift my head up and hear the sound of the radio in the kitchen downstairs and I sniff at the scent of bacon.
It’s enough to get me out of bed, and I stand up, stretching and wincing at the soreness in my arse.
I’d begged him to go hard last night, wanting to feel him all the next day, and my wish has definitely been granted.
I grab my dressing gown and pause. Today will be the last morning of waking up in the Dower House and Chi an Mor as a permanent resident.
From now on and for the foreseeable future I’ll be a visitor.
I frown and then make myself cheer up. I’m going to London, not to war.
Traipsing downstairs I hear the sound of voices, and when I round the corner it’s to find Silas seated at the breakfast bar with Cora in his arms. Niall is talking to him in an intense voice and the two men look serious.
“Everything okay?” I ask, and they jump as if electrocuted. I shake my head. “Please don’t consider a career in MI5. You’ll have spilled state secrets before breakfast.”
Silas laughs. “Especially if Oz was questioning me.” I walk over and hold out my hands for Cora who waves her arms in excitement. Silas hands her over with a smile and I hug her close, dipping my nose and inhaling the sweet baby scent of her neck.
“I’ll miss you,” I say to her, kissing her forehead. “I’m sure you’ll grow loads while I’m not here.” I look up in time to see Niall wince and Silas giving him a sympathetic look. When Niall sees me looking, he puts up his hands.
“No. Nope.”
“What?” I ask.
“We’re not feeling sorry for ourselves. You’re not being deported, for fuck’s sake. You’re going to London to seek your fortune.”
“I’m not Dick Whittington,” I say sourly.
“I hope not. You’d never fit all your hair care products in that handkerchief he had.”
I shake my head. “Niall.”
He comes to me and pulls me close, bending to kiss Cora and raising to take my lips. It’s a gentle, almost sweet kiss. Chaste but so warm that I stare at him, seeing a flush on his face. Then his expression clears and he steps back. “Breakfast,” he says decisively.
I look at Silas. “Are you staying?”
He shakes his head. “No. I’ll leave you in peace. I just wanted to say au revoir.”
“Very French.”
He shrugs. “I prefer it to goodbye.”
I flinch. “It isn’t goodbye.”
“Of course it isn’t, Milo,” he says, getting to his feet and drawing me into a hug. “It can’t be goodbye because this is your home and it always will be. There will always be a place for you at Chi an Mor .”
“Thank you,” I say, drawing back. “I haven’t said it enough, Silas. You took me in when you didn’t have to and gave me a safe place. I’ll never forget it.”
“You’re family,” he says simply. “That means an awful lot to me.” He looks at me and gives me a gentle smile. “When you’re ready to come back, we’ll all be here.”
“How maudlin. Cheer up, for fuck’s sake,” Niall says in that uber-cheerful way he’s had over the last fortnight. It’s been like living in an expletive-ridden Disney film and it’s getting wearing.
Silas neatly retrieves Cora after I kiss her again and then he’s gone, leaving us in a very full silence. I look at Niall and he turns determinedly. “Bacon and eggs and then you’ll have to get your stuff together. The train’s at ten and we’ll have to take the back road.”
“Niall,” I say quietly. “You know I’m coming back, don’t you?”
He turns to me, giving me a sad clown smile that stretches his face but doesn’t reach his eyes. “I hope so.”
“Niall, of course I am,” I say, hugging him tightly, feeling the sharp edges of his ribs and the muscles in his back. “I love you. We’re just going long distance for a while.”
He turns and hugs me tight in return. “I know,” he says deeply.
Breakfast goes too quickly the way time has the last fortnight, bounding forward like a puppy on a lead, eager and searching, and before I know it we’re lugging my suitcase to the car.
I look around at the woods surrounding the house.
The wind is fierce again, blowing the scent of wet wood and earth in my face accompanied by the sharp, tangy smell of the sea.
I feel like I’m taking snapshots every time I move so that I can take them out when I get to London and examine them.
Over the last fortnight, I’ve said my goodbyes to the estate and to my favourite places like the Lime Tree walk where in the spring the snowdrops flourish and the bluebells in the wood that form a magic carpet.
But here is the hardest goodbye of all because this has become my home, and it seems odd to me that I’ve only realised it at the moment of leaving it.
Perhaps we never know until we’re losing something.
“Milo. You ready?” Niall says quietly and I look round to find him leaning against the car, his hair lifting in the wind.
He looks real and full of life and I want to throw myself on him and never leave, and panic fills me suddenly like I’ve inhaled butterflies and they’re spreading through my stomach.
Am I? I think madly. Am I ready? Why am I going when I’ve just found him? Why am I testing this? What happens if the bond between us snaps through the long distance like an elastic band stretched beyond its limits?
I take a deep breath and push it away. “I’m ready.”
The drive seems to take no time, and I look out of the window, searching for my last view of the sea. But before I know it, the sea is gone and my time is up as we pull up to the station.
Niall jumps out and retrieves my case for me, carrying it round to where I’m leaning against the car. “Don’t come in,” I say softly but he jerks as if I’ve shouted it.
“You don’t want me to see you off?”
I shake my head. “I want to say our goodbyes now privately.”
“Sweetheart, don’t,” he says, pulling me into his arms and kissing me deeply. When he pulls back his eyes are warm and loving. “You’ll see me in a week. It’s hardly any time, and you’ll be so occupied with moving into the flat Simeon found for you that you won’t have time to miss me.”
“I’ll always have time for that.”
He gives me that tragic-comic face. “I know. But time passes quickly. Now give me a kiss and don’t say goodbye. Just say see you soon.” I kiss him, twining my hands in his hair, and then force myself back.
“I love you so much,” I say quickly.
He squeezes my hand. “Ring me when you get there,” he directs. “Don’t forget.” He pushes a package into my hands. “Open it when you’re on the way.”
I nod and, taking one last look at him like a hoarder, I turn and make my way into the station.
The train is waiting on the small platform, and in a flurry of movement I stow my case and fall into my seat.
I stare out of the window, looking to see if I can see the car park, but it’s hidden from me by the ticket office.
I look around. The carriage is empty, and my hands tighten on the package.
I feel lost and suddenly very lonely and the package is like a lifeline.
Without even thinking about it, my hands tear open the paper and a bubble-wrapped object falls out.
I open it to find a box of mixed-flavour teas and a red mug.
It’s obviously handmade, and the squat shape of it is enchanting as is the rich, deep colour.
I open the card. Niall’s scruffy handwriting makes me smile.
It’s so him, as if he’s too impatient to have proper penmanship.
My darling Lo,
I hope you like the mug. It’s one of a kind, like you.
When you drink your first mug of tea in the morning in your new place, I want you to think of all the wonderful things that you’re capable of doing in the coming day.
I want you to also always remember that I’m so proud of you and I’m waiting for you when you’re ready to come home. I love you always.
Niall
I stare down at the objects in my lap. This mug is gorgeous, I think idly, but it would look better in the kitchen at home when I redecorate it.
It’s the smallest thing but it’s like a bomb going off in my head, and suddenly I know with a blinding flash that I’m wrong.
I’m so wrong. I hear myself laugh. What the fuck am I doing?
I’m leaving my home and my heart behind, to do what?
Prove myself to arseholes like Thomas who don’t give a shit about me?
I’m leaving Niall and all the people who’ve become my family to strip dirt from pictures in a city that’s so foreign to me now it might as well be on the moon.
When I could do that at home and still have time to walk the woods with Niall, to wake up next to him and go to sleep in his arms. To decorate his home in vibrant shades, to laugh with Oz and Silas and watch Cora grow up.
“I’m a fucking idiot,” I say aloud and grin.
“Well, they do say it does you good to know yourself. I’m stupid, but thankfully it’s not a permanent affliction.
” Standing up, I gather my stuff together, moving quickly and feeling for the first time in my life that these decisions are all mine and they’re wholly and completely right.
Niall
Unable to stand and watch him get on the train, I head back to the car, sitting on the bonnet so he can see me as the train leaves.
The wind gusts around me, blowing my hair into my eyes and teeth and drawing wetness to my eyes, which is totally the wind, I tell myself. I can’t have sunk so low as to cry over a man leaving me.