Chapter Thirty
Jake
The door closes heavily behind me and I walk, then run across the room to her, grabbing her hands as she stands, searching her face. I can feel my cheeks are red, bitten by the cold, but her palms are warm in mine.
‘I’m sorry, Belle. So sorry.’
Her eyes wide, tears glistening on her freckles.
‘For tonight, for the past. For lying, for holding you back, for ruining your day. And for laughing, Belle, I’m so sorry I laughed. Both times. I wasn’t laughing at you. I never once thought any of this was funny. My face does something stupid when I’m scared and I hate it and …’
I grip her hands tighter.
‘I lied and laughed because I’m a coward.
I’ve always been a coward and I’ve been hiding from it for ten years because I couldn’t – genuinely couldn’t – admit to myself that I’d hurt you.
That I, the person who loved you more than anyone, anything, had caused you pain, so I just – didn’t.
Didn’t look at it. Didn’t do the mission.
I did everything else instead for a decade because that was easier than sitting with the fact that … ’
I stop. Start again. ‘I couldn’t let anything in without trying to hold on to it so tightly that it stopped being the thing I loved.
I did it with you. Every time you tried to grow, every time you searched for something – London, a career, just more, I heard it as you reaching away from me and I made you feel guilty for wanting it.
I couldn’t hear it any other way. Because if I let you go, if I loosened my grip just slightly, I thought you’d realise you didn’t need me.
I couldn’t survive that. So I held on tighter, I called it love, but it wasn’t – it was fear dressed up as love, and you knew it before I did and you were right to end things … ’
I’m panting, my breath short, but I can’t stop.
‘I’ve spent ten years in the in-between being miserable, and I told myself it was because I was dead, because of the crash, because of bad luck, because I’d lost the one true love, but it wasn’t any of that – it was me.
It’s always been me. And tonight …’ I stop, look at her.
‘Tonight was the first time in as long as I can remember that I let something in. Let you know. And the colour is coming back.’
I swallow, stuff the pain down.
‘The worst thing is I’m still hurting you. Even now. Showing up here, lying to you, putting you through all of this on the night before your wedding, still making things about me, still laughing and still unable to let you have what you’ve chosen without …’
I stop, gasp for air, and my voice cracks, ‘Timothy wouldn’t do this. That’s the difference. He loves you in ways I couldn’t.’
I pause. Voice quieter.
‘I’m sorry, Belle. For tonight. For back then. For all of it.’
Belle looks to the floor.
I let her. I don’t try to fill the silence or make a joke for once. I just hold her hands and wait for it. More anger. I know her tears are coming and I can’t believe I’m going to make her cry again. I brace myself for it, hold my breath.
I deserve it.
Her chest rises and falls, her eyes still on the floor. Her jaw shifts slightly, working through something. Then she looks up and opens her mouth and I close my eyes for half a second, just a moment, because I don’t want to be a coward anymore, I don’t want to hide from this.
‘I know,’ she says.
I wait for the rest of it, her rebuke, which would be fair, so fair. I’m still holding her hands, gripping them tighter than I mean to so when I notice I make myself loosen my fingers.
She just looks at me.
I’m suddenly aware of what my face must be doing. For once, I don’t care. I don’t try to arrange it into something more manageable. I just let it do whatever it’s doing and hope that’s enough.
She opens her mouth … Here it comes.
‘This whole time … You were writing this the whole time,’ she cries and I notice the paper folded neatly next to her.
I nod, it’s all I can do, because my throat is closing up.
‘Stay,’ she whispers.
She’s standing so close now and this is taking its time to sink in, but I don’t have time to fully process it as she stands on her toes, slips her hands out of mine, and pulls me closer, kissing me gently on the lips.
Something in my chest explodes.
It’s pain and love, wonder and urgency all rolled into one.
It’s so startling and bringing with it sensations that I haven’t felt for so long, that I wonder for a moment if this is it.
Is this me passing through my afterlife?
Have I crossed to the other side in this pure ecstasy?
But I can still smell her perfume and can still feel the heat of her underneath my hand and still feel the way she’s pushing herself into me.
These sensations keep me grounded as I pick her up in my arms and place her gently on the bed.