Chapter 70 Aida
Aida
“Two hearts in love need no words.”
—Milton, Paradise Lost
There’s a tightness, an ache, in my chest at his words, but it’s a good ache, I think.
It’s the same ache I get when I check on my sleeping boys at night.
When I look down at them and wonder how the hell I got so lucky.
When the rush of love is so visceral and terrifying that I have to remind myself all is good.
Nothing’s wrong.
I can lean into this feeling, revel in it.
A thousand reasons to pull back are humming beneath the surface, but they can’t compete with the reality of him, right here. His words. His tone. The way he’s looking at me, the way his face relaxed as he told me he loved me, as if the declaration lightened his entire being. Changed him, somehow.
We stay like that for a moment, silent except for the faintest lap of water and the sighs of our breaths. This instant is a bubble, as fragile as it is beautiful, and I sense neither of us wants to break it.
There’s a smile dawning on my face, though, at the understanding that Cal is in love with me, that this gorgeous, passionate, vital man who has always struck me as an untameable beast has seen something in me that makes him whole. That his soul recognises my soul.
If that’s not joyful, I don’t know what is.
His smile is breathtaking. ‘Beautiful Aida,’ he whispers, the hand on my jaw sliding around to cup my neck so he can close the gap between us again. His kiss is worshipful and incredulous, as if kissing me now is a totally different experience from before.
I yield to the perfect fusion of our mouths. My body is tired, but my heart is hopeful.
Surely I love you can be a new beginning as well as an endgame?
Surely we don’t have to have everything figured out right this second?
I’m not used to acting without all my ducks in the neatest little row, but if Cal and I are doing everything in the wrong order, then my only option is to trust that we can figure this shit out together.
Because we’ve known each other for a matter of weeks.
I’ve been divorced for a matter of months.
He’s spent less than a half hour with the two most important people in my life.
I’m about to release a show where apparently I’m preaching to women that great sex without love is both morally acceptable and highly recommended.
In a nutshell, this entire thing is fucking insane, and my only two options are to do a one-eighty so fast I get whiplash or to lean in and trust Cal to help me build a workable, practical structure around these crazy feelings we have for each other.
Cal ends our kiss with a gentle tug on my lower lip before resting his forehead to mine. ‘Can I tell you some of my wishes?’
‘Sure,’ I whisper, luxuriating in the feel of his thick hair between my fingers.
‘They’re for down the line, not tonight, so don’t freak out,’ he says, and I hum my acknowledgement. It seems I’m not the only one spiralling headlong into the future.
‘But I wish for a time where I don’t have to leave after dinner,’ he says.
‘I want to be able to climb into this tub with you and take you to bed afterwards. And yeah, I realise that also means I help you put the boys to bed, and that one epic game of Gorilla Tag doesn’t earn me the right to do that yet, but I’d like to try to earn it. ’
‘I’d like that,’ I murmur, my thumb stroking the skin at the back of his neck, tentative hope coursing through my veins.
‘Yeah? Good,’ he says softly.
I take a deep breath. ‘I realise it’s very early in this… relationship. And I don’t want all the steps we haven’t taken to detract in any way from what I just said to you. Because I mean it. But I also recognise we have a long way to go.’
‘So you’re basically telling me you’re gagging to be my girlfriend?’ he asks, and I laugh, because that’s such a Cal thing to say.
‘I am literally begging for it,’ I say.
‘Yeah, I can tell. So I passed my audition, then?’
‘You nailed it so hard. Harder than anyone’s ever nailed it.’ I move my face so I can drag my lips over his beard.
‘I’ll nail you so hard.’
‘You’d better.’
‘I will. I’ll come over as soon as you get those little chimps off to school tomorrow.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
He pauses. ‘Just so I have an idea… do you think you’ll talk to them at some point? About us?’
I’ve been thinking about this all evening. ‘Yeah. I should probably talk to them tonight, after you’ve gone.’
‘Good idea. I’m riding high on the Gorilla Tag bribery right now. We should close the deal while the momentum is in my favour,’ he says, and I laugh.
‘Absolutely. Make the bribery work for us.’
‘Right?’ He pauses again. ‘How do you think they’ll take it?’
‘I honestly have no idea,’ I tell him, and it’s true. ‘I know they’ll like you—how could they not? But they’ve also had a shitty year. That said, Pip’s been pretty protective of me. So if I have a new, um, boyfriend who makes me happy, I’m hoping that’s something they can get behind.’
‘That’s something we can all get behind,’ he says.
‘I don’t want to rush any of you, but I also don’t want to sneak around.
You should know I don’t give a shit who sees us or what photos they publish, but obviously I want to make sure you’ve had whatever chats you need to with the boys before we get outed. ’
‘I’ll talk to them,’ I promise. ‘I need to talk to the Paradise team too and get our message straightened out.’
‘What’s the problem?’ he asks.
I sigh. ‘Messaging. They think my entering into another monogamous relationship isn’t the right way to end the documentary, optically speaking. It’s not… radical enough.’
His mouth twists. ‘Fuck’s sake. If they saw the stuff we get up to together, they’d change their tune. So what do they want?’
‘They’ve got the footage. I mean, those reshoots from last week look incredible—exactly what we wanted. It’s more my voiceover. I need to lock myself in my study and figure it out. We’ve got this one opportunity to pack a punch, you know? And I don’t know yet what that punch will be.’
‘If they think you and I being together is too boring and predictable a note to end the show on,’ he says, ‘then we’d better show them they’re wrong, hadn’t we?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Once you’ve spoken to Pip and Kit, we go public in a big way. I’m sorry, but there’s no way the tabloids won’t swallow that shit up.’
‘They’ll say it’s a publicity stunt.’
‘I don’t give a flying fuck what they say.’ He traces the outline of my cupid’s bow with a fingertip. ‘It is a publicity stunt, it’s just a real one. You keep talking about changing the narrative. It’s your fucking show. You should set the agenda.
‘Let’s see how excited we can get people about the prospect of us being together. If we play our cards right, they’ll be clamouring for more of us as a couple. Then you can talk all you like at the end of the show about how much you love me, and they’ll eat it up.’
He shrugs, a cocky grin on his face, and I survey him thoughtfully.
He’s oversimplifying, but he has a point.
And much as I dislike the idea of willingly throwing us and our fledgling relationship into the spotlight, I can’t deny it would be a powerful way of ensuring that the messaging in the show lines up precisely with both what I want in life and the kind of impact Lizzy and Mara want the show to have.
Who says the idea of my settling down with Cal is boring? I for one know it’s anything but. So maybe it’s time to take a little of that heady magic that Cal Sinclair weaves upon womankind and sprinkle his fairy dust more widely.
If half the female population is in love with the idea of him, and us, before the show even airs, then I’ve made my point.
A relationship with Cal is more radical, more exciting, than unfettered sex at Alchemy is.
‘You’re a media genius,’ I tell him. ‘Ever considered a career as a political spin doctor?’
He grins and replaces his fingertip with his mouth for a gentle kiss. ‘I’m far too morally upstanding.’
‘Hmm,’ is my diplomatic reply to that. I keep ahold of his shoulders while I pull myself upright. The flare of hunger in his eyes when he sees my wet breasts is unmistakable. He reaches down to weigh them in his hands, flicking a thumb over each nipple, and I shiver at the pleasure of it.
‘Jesus, sweetheart,’ he says reverently to my breasts, eyelashes fanning over his cheeks. ‘So fucking beautiful.’ He releases them and strokes my cheek with a wistful smile before getting to his feet.
‘Ouch. Dead legs. You soak, okay? I’ll check dinner and keep an eye on the boys.’ He stoops to kiss my forehead. ‘I love you. And I’m here for whatever media circus you think is necessary. Bring it on.’