Chapter 32
When Cian finds me at a coffee shop in Wood Green, the mix of worry and sympathy on his face makes me instantly regret sending him my location. I stand up from the table as he walks towards me. ‘You didn’t need to come.’
‘I know.’
‘I don’t need saving.’
‘I know,’ he says then puts his arms around me.
After I left my parents, I walked in the direction of home.
It should have taken around two hours, yet it turns out that in silver stiletto boots, nothing takes two hours.
When the backs of my heels felt sticky with blood I came into a café, where I stared out of the window and ignored the onslaught of missed calls and messages from everyone I’d run away from.
Then Cian called and his was the only voice in the world I could cope with hearing.
‘You’re freezing,’ he says to me now. ‘Come on, let’s go home.’
Once back at the flat, Cian follows me to my bedroom where I allow myself to be compressed between his body and the back of the door. I’ve missed him. Every time I’ve pushed him away, or closed down or rejected him, I’ve missed him.
‘I thought you were in Eastbourne.’
‘I came back. I have an early start tomorrow.’ He directs me to sit on the edge of my bed, which is unmade and strewn with clothes.
‘I’m so—’ I start, then get completely lost with what I want to say. My phone rings and Cian comments, ‘You changed your ringtone.’
‘You asked me to.’
He stares down at it. ‘It’s still irritating, though. Are you going to answer?’
‘I don’t want to speak to anyone.’
He silences it, then feels my hand. ‘You need to warm up. Go and have a shower.’
It’s only when I’m under the water that I notice how cold I was; my skin tingles as the heat hits, and my blistered feet sting as the lather runs down my legs.
The shivering returns seconds after I switch off the water, so I quickly layer up in my warmest pyjamas and socks.
Cian has put a hot chocolate and a sandwich on the chest of drawers, and I manage half before giving up.
‘Why are you taking so long to get warm?’ he says while watching me.
‘My hair’s wet.’ It falls over the sodden towel on my shoulders as I lean forward.
‘Your hair? I thought it kept you warm.’
He gets up again, then returns with another towel, which he swaps with the damp one and inexpertly tries to wrap my hair up. ‘I don’t know how girls do that turban thing,’ he grumbles, slightly stressed.
‘I can’t believe you’re able to make me laugh right now.’
‘It’s my superpower,’ he says, with the smallest smile.
Once I’ve fixed the towel, I lie down. ‘You’re mad at me?’
He searches my face for something. ‘I’m trying to be.’
My phone lights up as another call comes through.
‘It’s your mum,’ he says. ‘Maybe answer. Tell her you’re okay.’
‘No.’
‘She needs to know you’re alright.’ Cian rubs his face. ‘I tried calling you earlier and your phone was off, then hours later Eric calls to say you’re upset, and you’ve gone missing.’
‘That was dramatic of him.’
‘It wasn’t,’ Cian says. ‘He was worried about you. I had to send my dad over to knock on your door. I was worried about you too.’
‘How did Eric get your number?’
‘Ikenna gave it to him.’
‘Oh God.’
Cian indicates my phone. ‘If I call your mum back, she’s not going to freak out that I’m here, is she?’
‘Why would she? She’s met you.’
‘Yeah, but she thinks we’re just random colleagues.’ He drops his head. ‘Sorry.’
Reluctantly, I reach for the phone, unlock it and hand it to him.
Cian stands outside my bedroom and l listen as he talks, more than my mum, which is rare.
At one point he goes silent, and I assume the call has ended.
The tiredness seeping through me is so deep I almost drift off, then I hear him say, ‘Right. Right.’ When he comes back, he simply says, ‘It’s fine. ’
‘We should talk too.’
‘Hold on, get up a minute.’ The blanket is pulled from underneath me, and he begins to tuck it around my body.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m wrapping you up. Like a burrito.’ He lies behind and puts his arm, so heavy it’s almost oppressive, over me.
‘You’re like one of those weighted blankets,’ I say.
‘I’m surprised you don’t have one.’
‘Of course I have one. You’re better. Cian, we should—’
‘Another time.’ The light blinks off. ‘I’ll stay till you fall asleep. Then I’ll go. Promise.’
The shivering stops and a heavy tiredness steals my thoughts before I finish them.
I’m jerked awaked by movement.
‘I thought you were asleep,’ he whispers.
‘Stay. Please stay with me.’