Chapter 2 #3
She’d be lying if she denied that the thought of him staying made her spirits rise because despite the dodgy plumbing, she loved this flat and she’d been so happy to spend time with him again.
He was kind. He was cool. And sure, there was a twinge of regret that she hadn’t realised all that when they were sixteen and snatched him up then.
He’d often popped in to see her mum over the years, and the whole time Maddie had been away, her mother had sung his praises.
In fact, telling Maddie that Dylan and his wife, Rachel, were divorcing last year had come right in the middle of her mum’s chemo and it had been delivered with the widest smile Maddie had seen in months.
Her mum would be delighted if she could see them now.
Dylan reached for the knife and cut a couple of slices off the bread, then handed one over to her. ‘Thanks for this and, no, I haven’t changed my mind.’
‘So why the sad face?’ If it wasn’t cold feet about going, then maybe it was sadness about saying goodbye to his life here.
During one of their long, late-night chats when she’d first moved in, he’d told her about finding out that Rachel was shagging her boss, about their divorce, about how tough it had been to close that chapter.
But he’d also told her how he was grateful now, because it had given him the freedom to go chase the kind of life he’d only imagined when he had a Luke Combs album blaring on the sound system of his van.
He shrugged. ‘Maybe I just don’t like goodbyes.’
‘Me either. But, you know, I’m pretty sure they’ll hate you there and you’ll be back in three months and begging me to let you sleep on my couch in my inevitably slummy but affordable new pad,’ she teased him, dipping her bread in her soup.
The queasiness from earlier had gone now, and she felt the stirrings of her appetite returning.
The fresh air of the walk home and Alyssa’s homemade soup were truly the stuff of miracles.
She nodded to his pad. ‘Are you going to let me see your latest work of creative genius then?’
He swallowed a chunk of bread before he answered. ‘It’s a work in progress.’
‘A bit like my life.’ The roll of her eyes made him laugh, which rapidly turned into a choking situation. She jumped to her feet. ‘Oh Jesus, I’ve always hoped I’d never need to do that Heimlich thing. I’ve only ever done it on a dummy that couldn’t sue me.’
Before she attempted to get her arms around his impeccably carved pecs, he put his hand up to stop her and somehow managed to clear his throat. After a few more coughs, he regained his power of speech. ‘It’s okay, but thanks. I think I’ll live.’
Maddie wasn’t listening, because the whole debacle had forced him to lift his arm from the notepad and she saw that he wasn’t writing a song at all. It was a letter. And it began, ‘Dear Maddie…’
When he saw that she’d clocked the title, he sighed as she sat back down, gently pulled it towards her and continued reading.
Is it wrong that the last four months have been some of the happiest of my life?
Especially when you’ve been through so much.
I guess that’s just the way you make me feel.
I don’t have regrets about anything. Okay, so maybe the suit I wore to our high-school leavers’ night wasn’t the best, but crushed velvet was a vibe back then.
But I’ve been thinking lately that maybe, way back then, when we were young and I was clearly stupid, I should have asked you out.
Maybe I still will, because you make me feel a type of way that I love.
Like there could be something more between us.
When I get back from the States, if you’re looking for an unemployed joiner who can carry a tune and who will probably be busking in Buchanan Street to make money for rent, then I’m your man.
In the meantime, take care. Be happy. And if you fancy a holiday in Nashville, I know a guy there…
When she finished and raised her eyes, they locked on his, but he spoke before she found her words.
‘I wasn’t going to give it to you. At least, I don’t think I was.’
‘I make you feel a type of way?’
‘That sounded better in my head. I just meant… I have feelings for you. More than friend-type feelings.’
How had she not noticed that? Between her grief, her dismantled life and feeling untethered by everything that had happened in the last year, she hadn’t given romance a thought. Although if she had…
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
He shrugged. ‘I figured it was giving you a complication you didn’t need and might not want. You needed a friend. Nothing more. I didn’t want to mess that up.’
‘I think you’re right about all of that,’ she admitted, and she didn’t miss the slump of his shoulders as she said it. ‘But now that I come to think of it, maybe I needed a distraction too.’
Without giving it any thought, or stopping to consider her actions, she leaned over and she kissed him.
Those goodbyes were happening tomorrow. But for now, she had an idea about how they could spend the time until they had to say them.