Chapter 50
THREE MONTHS LATER
The chairs in the romance section are arranged in neat rows.
The bookshop is busy, with people standing behind the chairs, some squeezed between bookcases, and a group of young women sitting cross-legged on the rug.
This is the busiest author event I have seen in a long time.
Not only is there pink bunting hanging up, but all the fairy lights in the shop are on.
Oliver’s books are everywhere, and it looks like a secret romantic fiction cult gathering.
Miranda has chosen to wear a little black dress for the occasion. She’s no longer using her stylist. Her latest love interest is a portrait artist called Graham, who loves painting her. She spends more time at his studio than she does at the bookshop nowadays, which is a bonus for me.
I survey the familiar faces gathered to listen to his talk.
In the corner are Ben and Alice, who look more loved-up than ever.
His arm circles her waist, and she’s gazing up at him adoringly.
Alice loves playing Monopoly and climbing trees, and it’s rumoured that they have been spotted kissing high up in trees around the town.
She’s also been a big hit with Ben’s kids, including Amber, who we hardly see in here now.
Roger Ellis is sitting by me. We have kept our promise, and every week we all have dinner together. Alfie and Roger have become the best of friends.
Eva and her boyfriend, Rex, are here somewhere but keep sneaking off to the quieter book sections.
Aunt Polly and Hilary are standing behind me.
They have been like two lovestruck teenagers ever since I reunited them, and there’s talk of a wedding once my aunt is in remission.
They’ve come over specially to see Oliver’s author talk.
Hilary drove, and according to my aunt, she never left the fast lane.
I feel a tug on my hand. Alfie looks up at me with his huge brown eyes and outstretches his little arm.
With a smile, I pull him up into my arms. Getting to know Alfie has been great for me.
Oliver and Molly have agreed a co-parenting rota and Oliver now has Alfie for two full days.
Alfie has helped me to stop paying attention to other people’s love stories and he’s shown me a different type of love.
Oliver walks out to a warm burst of applause, looking like a fashion model who accidentally wandered into a bookshop. His white fitted shirt is rolled up to his sleeves, his hair is wavy, and he’s beaming from ear to ear.
He waves and sits down. Miranda rushes over with a mic. He takes it from her. ‘Hello, I’m Oliver James and I write love stories.’
Everyone claps, and a few of the girls on the rugs give him a whistle.
‘Thank you for coming to this event. It means a lot to me. Writing about love is one of my passions in life because love is everywhere. It’s in the stolen glances, shared coffees and the holding of someone’s hand.’
He goes on to talk about his journey as an author and how he achieved publication.
Miranda has placed a stack of his pink books by the chair, and he explains the story behind each one.
He comes across as comfortable and at ease.
The audience loves him, and they laugh at all his jokes and the funny story about the time he met his agent and accidentally knocked coffee all over her.
Once he concludes his talk, he asks for questions.
Hands shoot up across the bookshop. He picks a woman from the second row of chairs. Miranda races over with a mic.
She smooths down her frizzy brown hair and takes a breath. ‘In a recent interview, you said you’d stopped writing. Are you back to writing now, and what made you return to it?’
He glances over at me, standing by the display table.
‘For a long time, I stopped writing. I had stopped believing in the very thing I was writing about. Love had started to feel like fiction. And then a special person entered my life. She became a voice in the darkness that made me want to listen more, so I returned to the page.’ He holds my gaze.
‘To the woman who made me believe again and reignited my heart. I know how difficult it has been for you to take a chance on me, and I love you so much, Nelly.’
My heart swells as Alfie whispers, ‘Daddy.’
Oliver will never know how different my life was before he entered it.
He made me break free from the shackles of my gift and believe in love.
My gift will always be a part of me, but Oliver has shown me it’s not about the ending of love that matters, but everything in between.
It’s about deciding to give love a chance and choosing to start.
I have also learnt that heartbreak hurts, but it is survivable.
I know now that if he had not come back into my life, I would have been okay.
My gift will continue to show me the dangers of heartbreak, but it will never again have as much power over me. I, Nelly Blake, am a believer in love.