53. Chapter 53
Chapter 53
Charlotte
‘ Y ou didn’t have to come,’ I said for possibly the tenth time since we’d left my apartment. It was the Saturday before the Christmas party, and Aiden and I had spent every night together since I’d told him about Mum. Something had shifted between us that night, and while on the surface nothing had changed, everything suddenly felt different.
Weeks ago, when I’d pre-ordered Richard Osman’s latest release for Nan’s upcoming birthday, I’d decided that, rather than having the book delivered, I’d pick it up in store and make a morning of it. However, lying breathless in Aiden’s arm this morning, I’d cursed my past self and dreaded the thought of having to pull myself from bed and trudge all the way to the bookstore in Leicester Square. At least, I had until Aiden had offered to come with me.
His offer filtered through while I was battling my head through the small opening of a turtleneck. I’d balked, my head jerking in his direction so fast that something twinged painfully in my neck. But, contrary to what I’d expected, everything was normal on the other side of the room. I hadn’t pushed my head through a wormhole instead of a head-hole, and Aiden was exactly where he had been before I’d turned around—lying in bed with his attention on the phone in his hands.
Something fluttered excitedly beneath my breastbone as I smoothed the body of my jumper down my torso. Peering at him through my curtain of curls as I bent over to retrieve my trousers, I’d studied his face for any clue as to what was happening. There was none.
‘Okay,’ I’d agreed in what I’d hoped was an offhanded tone as I buttoned my trousers. I’d taken him up on his offer before the questions hurrying my heart had a chance to back me out of it. We’d agreed to meet in the foyer in an hour, however, a kiss goodbye had quickly become heated and desperate, so it was closer to noon by the time we eventually made it to the store.
I shivered as the warmth of the store’s heating slammed into me with the force of a Tolstoian train. Side-stepping, I tucked myself into a small recess near the door and rubbed my hands together, trying to encourage the circulation of blood back to my fingers.
‘And I told you,’ Aiden said, smiling as he came to a stop in front of me and reached out to cradle my hands in both of his, ‘that I wanted to.’
Aiden shifted his hold on my frozen fingers, cupping them in his hands and holding my gaze as he lifted our hands to his lips to blow into the cocoon of his hands. I don’t know what I’d expected—to be honest, I’d given myself a stern talking to before I’d come downstairs on just how much I shouldn’t and wouldn’t expect anything— but never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined this.
Sure, Aiden had proven to be way more tactile than I had anticipated. Even when we weren’t having sex, he somehow found a way to constantly be in contact and I’d grown used to it. I liked it. But we hadn’t been in public together since the pub quiz, and I hadn’t allowed myself to hope that his small touches would extend beyond the boundaries of our apartments. But they had. His hand hovering over the small of my back as we walked, his palm resting on my knee on the tube, and now this. Small, innocuous touches that both thrilled and confused me.
With every exhale of warm air, my fingers thawed a little more and my heart swelled in my chest. Lifting my face to his, my breath caught at the tenderness in his expression. Time slowed as my fingers warmed and I held his gaze, afraid even to blink lest the movement break whatever tenuous hold we had on this moment.
‘All good?’ Aiden asked between exhalations.
‘Huh?’
Aiden’s brow quirked in amusement as he lifted our hands a little higher.
‘Oh!’ I shook my head, blinking away my confusion as the clamour of other shoppers pierced the bubble of our little moment. ‘Yes.’ I started to pull my hands away, face flushing as I tore my eyes away from his. ‘Thank you.’
Aiden’s mouth curled into a knowing smirk, but he lowered our hands, waiting until what felt like the last possible moment before he released his hold on mine.
‘Start at the top and work our way down?’ he asked, tilting his chin in the direction of the elevator.
I nodded, breaking his gaze and turning toward the elevator. I’d barely taken a first step in its direction when the small of my back warmed with awareness and Aiden’s soft touch settled over my coat.
‘You didn’t have plans today?’ I cast the words over my shoulder, grimacing at my elevated pitch. I hadn’t even thought to ask earlier. I’d been too anxious-excited by the prospect of this… outing with Aiden to think of much else. We’d stepped outside of the bounds of our contract, and I felt like I was both floating and free-falling through this moment. It was dizzying. I should have called Becky.
‘Nothing pressing,’ he said dispassionately. My heart sank a little at his tone. Realising, as he pushed the button for the top floor, that there was no progressive marching forward when it came to Aiden. It wasn’t that he didn’t let me in. He did, but not all the way and not consistently. My stomach swooped as the elevator bobbed to a stop on the fifth floor.
‘Have you ever wanted to learn another language?’ I asked conversationally as we meandered past the store’s small section of Spanish titles.
‘I did French in school,’ Aiden answered. ‘And I continued it for my first year at Uni, but I didn’t retain anything useful.’ He paused. ‘Well, nothing beyond being able to order a coffee and a croissant.’
I could practically hear the smile in his voice, the small, almost self-deprecating one I’d noticed him wearing whenever he shared something about himself that he didn’t consider being of particular importance. Coming to a stop in front of the French translations of Harry Potter, I snuck a peek at him to find out if I was right. I was.
‘You never learnt Korean?’ I asked, returning my attention to replacing the book I’d removed from the shelf.
‘No, nothing beyond the odd swear word.’
I frowned in confusion at the titles in front of me. Oxford wasn’t exactly a cultural melting pot—at least, the small village I’d grown up in hadn’t been—so it was only really when I came to London that I was exposed to multilingualism that extended beyond GCSEs.
So, when Louise told me that their mum had first come to London in the eighties, I’d just assumed that she and Aiden had grown up around the language. I told him as much, and the corner of his mouth quirked upwards, his eyes warm when he turned to look at me.
‘There was a lot of hurt when Mum decided to stay in the UK and marry my dad,’ Aiden explained, picking up a copy of an African folktale. ‘And there was a lot of pressure here for her to integrate as quickly and seamlessly as possible.’ He put the book back on the shelf and we continued down the aisle. ‘What about you?’
‘Hmmm, well I did French for my A-levels, and I could probably order a coffee, a croissant, and ask for directions to the bathroom.’ I smirked, shooting him a sideways glance. ‘But not much more than that,’ I admitted with a laugh. ‘And then at Uni I did a year of Russian.’
‘Russian?’ Aiden came to a stop, turning to face me.
‘Don’t be too impressed.’ I waved away his raised eyebrows. ‘I had started reading War and Peace two weeks before we had to make our final module choices and was very much swept away by it all.’
Aiden chuckled, muttering something that sounded heart-stoppingly like “cute” under his breath, but he continued on, leading us towards the spiral staircase and lower levels.
‘So… ’ Aiden started, staring ahead of him as we made our way to down to the fourth floor. ‘The party on Friday?’
‘Yeah?’ My chest tightened with dread, but I kept my gaze and thoughts focused on my feet. I was not co-ordinated enough to navigate the narrow stairs and spiral at the same time.
‘Anything I need to know?’ he asked, thankfully coming to a stop on the landing. ‘Anyone in particular I should be singing your praises to?’
I let out a startled laugh, relief flooding my system as my eyes darted up from my feet and caught on his wide smile.
‘No,’ I smiled, shaking my head. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘You sure?’ He nudged my shoulder, raising his eyebrow. ‘I can be very persuasive.’
I rolled my eyes exaggeratedly, turning my attention to the directory in front of us. Mind, Body she must have moved closer in the time it took us to turn around.
‘It’s so good to see you,’ Bridget said with a genuine smile as she reached for his arm. Three pairs of eyes followed her hand to the point of contact. But where I bristled, Aiden seemed to soften at the touch.
‘You too,’ Aiden replied dazedly, his gaze still locked on her hand.
Something soured in my stomach when he didn’t pull away. Swallowing through my discomfort and the growing unease that had settled across my chest, I watched as they studied each other, lost in a moment that I was wholly separated from.
At some point, they’d started speaking, exchanging soft words that I couldn’t hear over the blood rushing through my veins. I watched with sickening anxiety as Aiden relaxed into their conversation, his posture softening into their exchange. He must have said something funny, because Bridget was laughing now, the sound of it tinkling across the store like birdsong. She was so beautiful.
I knew this. I’d seen the pictures in Aiden’s parents’ house, but it was one thing to look at a picture—at a moment in the past—and it was something entirely different to be confronted with the reality of that moment in person. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed up at him, and I wanted to disappear. I felt like an intruder, some creepy voyeur lurking on the periphery of a moment that wasn’t mine. Anxiety tightened its fist around my throat and I—
‘Sorry, hi. I’m Bridget.’ I felt the focus of the conversation shift as two pairs of eyes turned in my direction. Bridget’s eyes still glimmered and twinkled as they focused on me, but the warm brown eyes I’d grown so fond of were guarded.
‘This is Charlotte,’ Aiden replied stiffly, extending a hand in my general direction. ‘My neighbour.’
My face twisted in confusion as the weight of his words crashed into me like a freight train, knocking the wind from my lungs and leaving me so stupidly speechless that all I could do was nod.
‘Nice to meet you,’ Bridget said brightly, either completely oblivious to the fact that Aiden had essentially eviscerated my heart with a mere five words, or choosing to ignore the awkward tang that now hung in the air. I wasn’t sure which was worse.
‘You too,’ I mumbled, reaching forward to accept Bridget’s proffered hand.
‘I’m so glad I ran into you,’ Bridget continued cheerily as she turned her attention back to Aiden. Her face was clear and unguarded. ‘I’ve got to run, but I’m in London until Friday. Call me?’
Her hopeful plea floated in the air around us as we both looked to Aiden for his response. He nodded, and, with his eyes no longer fixed on Bridget’s face, he missed the shy but genuine smile that split across it. With that and a small wave in my direction, Bridget breezed past us. Unaware and unconcerned by the wreckage she’d left behind.
We were motionless for a long moment, as if breaking the stillness of the moment would be what made the last five minutes real. But reality was ushered in by Aiden lifting a hand to run it through his hair. The gesture was enough to push us forward into the “after” of it all.
‘Neighbour, huh?’ It was meant to be a joke, but I couldn’t hide the sharp bite of disappointment that coloured my tone.
‘What?’ he asked, blinking away the haze as if he had only now noticed that I was there.
‘Nothing,’ I murmured, dropping my gaze to the floor and biting the inside of my cheek to hold back the sting of tears that burned my eyes. The butterflies that had bloomed in my chest and beat against my ribcage all morning stilled, withering in the face of the reality in front of me. I’d been so very stupid.
‘I shouldn’t have come.’
‘What?’ It was my turn to look confused. ‘Look, I’m sorry you ran into Bridget but—’
‘This was a mistake,’ Aiden said, louder this time, blowing out a breath before finally turning his attention to me. Those four words washed over me, seeping into my pores and into my marrow.
‘What was?’ I whispered, but the dread pooling in my stomach was enough to confirm what I already knew would follow.
‘This,’ Aiden whispered tiredly, moving a hand across the growing space between us. ‘This has gone too far.’
‘But I thought—’
‘What?’ he laughed humorously. ‘Just what did you think was happening here, Charlotte?’
Charlotte. Not Cupcake. I flinched—I couldn’t help it—and something that could have been remorse slackened Aiden’s jaw, until it was replaced by a steely resolve. ‘We had a deal,’ Aiden said, moving beyond my reach even as he stood completely still. Something strained in my chest, pressure building and fissuring out from a radial point beneath my breastbone.
‘I know.’ But we’d moved beyond the bounds of our deal. He had to know that. ‘But we—’
‘No,’ he interjected. ‘There’s no we.’
Devastation flooded my eyes, forcing me to look away. ‘Is it Bridget?’ My words came out just louder than a whisper, but there was no masking the pathetic tinge of jealousy. And I hated myself for it.
‘It was always Bridget.’ The bitter admission hit me like a slap, my head jerking up to look at him. He wasn’t even looking at me. I studied his face, searching for any sign of the man I thought I knew, of the man I was falling for, but all of the softness I’d come to cherish in Aiden’s features had been replaced by a steely hardness and unbreakable resolve.
I swallowed thickly, dropping my chin to stare at my shoes as I willed away the moisture in my eyes. I would not cry here.
Biting my lip, I twisted my head to take in the rows upon rows of books that surrounded us, my eyes scanning the covers that were both familiar and unfamiliar in design. I inhaled a staggered but deep breath, catching hints of the familiar scent of paper and ink and the polish the store used on its wooden floors. Finally, I swallowed, focusing on the bitter aftertaste of the coffee I’d had less than an hour ago, its floral notes lingering like an echo on my tongue as I steeled myself to look at him.
‘Okay,’ I said simply, not trusting myself to say more. I nodded once, shoving my trembling hands into my coat pockets. ‘Okay,’ I repeated, and turned away, making my way down the spiral staircase and out into the anonymity of the crowd outside.
***
I was at war with myself as I stumbled down Charing Cross Road. A part of me, a larger part than I would ever admit to, had hoped that Aiden would stop me. That he would see my retreating figure and realise what he was letting go, and that that would be enough. I blamed that part of me for my total loss of composure a few streets away. My phone vibrated in my pocket, pulling me out of my numbed state and sending my heart into overdrive as that part of me blossomed in my chest. But my watery smile faltered at the name that flashed across the screen.
‘Charlotte! Hey, sorry, I know it’s a Saturday and you’re probably getting your afternoon delight on with Aiden.’ Becky chuckled and it was all I could do to remain silent as the small fissure of pain in my chest lengthened and deepened at the sound of his name. ‘Anyway,’ she continued breezily, still oblivious to the pain that was working its way up my throat and threatened to suffocate me. ‘I wanted to ask if you knew of anyone who needed a housemate or anything?’
‘Are you moving back?’ I asked, trying and failing to keep my voice from cracking at the end.
‘No, it’s Claire, she’s—’ Becky stopped mid-sentence. ‘Charlotte?’
‘I’m fine.’ I whispered, even as my vision swam at the sound of the concern in her voice.
‘Babe, what happened?’
‘Nothing.’ I assured her, tilting my head back towards the greying sky and blinking back tears.
‘Is it Isla?’ Becky’s pitch had risen alongside her worry, causing a sharp stab of guilt to jab out between my ribs. This was stupid. I was being ridiculous. I was fine.
‘No!’ I said hurriedly, internally berating both my heart and my overactive tear ducts. ‘No, Nan is fine, I promise.’
‘Then what is it?’ Becky’s voice softened in relief.
‘It’s nothing, really.’ I put a hand on my hip in a shoddy attempt at the Superman pose and forced my mouth into a watery smile. ‘Aiden just—’ my voice cracked, and I frowned, clearing my throat before continuing in what I knew Becky called my “lawyer voice.” ‘Aiden terminated our contract.’
‘What?’ Becky’s gasp of surprise soothed away a little of my own ache and shame. ‘Why?’
‘He just…’ I exhaled, suddenly so very tired. ‘He didn’t want to pretend anymore.’ The words were heavy in my mouth, but I forced myself to say them. To admit out loud that, where I’d been foolish enough to hover on the ledge—so close to falling—to Aiden, it had been nothing more than pretend.
‘But the Christmas party—’ Becky started.
My stomach twisted uncomfortably, as humiliation and dread mixed with the coffee I’d had that morning.
‘It’s fine,’ I interrupted, shaking my head and forcing the swirling vortex of anxiety back down my throat.
‘It is not fine,’ Becky argued, the outrage and vitriol in her voice so strong that I could almost feel her fury. And my heart fluttered softly beneath my ribs, warmed by the glow of her indignation. But with that small flicker of gratitude, the numbness that had carried me all the way to Covent Garden began to recede, and in its wake was a pain that was fast spreading throughout my body.
‘Listen Becks,’ I interrupted, rubbing at the tightness in my chest. ‘I can’t talk right now. I’m out. I need to get home.’
‘I swear to God, if that asshole—’
‘Becks, I’ll call you later,’ I promised, hanging up and dropping my hands to my knees, drawing in deep breaths as the crack in my chest split me in two.