Chapter 30
thirty
HENRY
The January wind sliced straight through my coat, my cheeks stinging.
It was bollock freezing weather. Our breath ghosted in the air as we stood side-by-side on the platform.
Amanda stood with her hands tucked into her pockets, her shoulders hunched against the cold, and those spikes firmly back in place.
She kept staring down the track as if the train might appear and save her from the awkwardness of a goodbye.
I wanted to touch her. To steady her with a hand at her back.
My thumb brushing over her jaw. Something to mark that last ten days we’d had weren’t just a fling.
But we had already dragged it all out at Bayview.
Another kiss would have made it harder, not easier.
So I kept my hands shoved deep in my coat pockets, nails curling into my palms.
‘You’ll text when you get there?’ I asked, hating how unsure my voice sounded.
‘Yeah, of course.’ She offered a smile. It was far too polite, nothing like the ones she’d given me when she’d been wrapped around me in my bed. But her eyes gave her away. They gleamed in the afternoon light, showing the only emotion she couldn’t control with sheer defiance.
Like she might be leaving more behind than she wanted too.
A low rumble through the rails announced her train's approach. She flinched and I felt like someone had torn my guts out through my arsehole.
‘So,’ she said, rocking slightly. ‘This is…’
‘Not the end,’ I said quickly. Too quickly.
God, I was pathetic.
Pathetically in over my head for her. I couldn’t make her stay, but I would convince her that a few hours between us wouldn’t temper my ardour.
She breathed out a shaky laugh. ‘Open-ended. Remember?’
‘Right. Open-ended.’
When the train finally pulled in, she stepped forward with her bag, and all I could do was follow a pace behind, hands useless at my sides. She turned just before stepping on board, cheeks pink from the cold, hair whipping around her shoulders. I couldn’t let her leave without a last kiss.
I stepped forward, grasping her to me and pressing my mouth to hers, tasting her sweet, minty breath on my tongue.
Tugging her hair gently, I encouraged her to open up for me.
She wavered in my arms, her breath coming in short pants as I poured everything into that one kiss.
All my desire. All my awe for her. All my wants for the future.
She gave as good as I did, until people bustled past us, forcing me to let her go.
‘Thanks for everything, Henry,’ she said. And before I could ask what everything meant, she stepped onto the train. It took everything not to follow her.
‘I’ll see you,’ she said. No soon. No promise.
‘I’ll see you soon,’ I added, letting her know I’d be a little more dogged than she.
And then she was gone inside the carriage, finding a seat by the window. I stood on the platform like an idiot, waiting for her to look at me. She didn’t.
The train hadn’t even begun rolling when my phone buzzed.
I glanced down, expecting it to be the Leadbetters or one of my family.
Instead, it was Amanda.
Thank you for showing me how good it can be to let go in safe hands.
Another ping.
Thanks for being those safe hands, Henry.
Heat wrapped my chest, squeezing the air from me as her train departed the station.
I replied.
Hope “safe” isn’t the only way you’ll remember my hands, Princess.
I stared at the screen, the icy wind cutting around me. And I waited for her reply. And waited.
The manor was too quiet when I returned from the station, nothing but echoes of Amanda everywhere I looked. I made a coffee out of habit more than desire, hands half-numb from the platform.
I took the mug outside, frost crunching beneath my boots as I headed for the stables. Merv poked his head out before I reached the door, ears pitched forward and nose snuffling for treats.
‘Alright, mate,’ I said, pressing him backwards and stepping inside.
He shuffled into me as I sat on an upturned bucket, trying to stop Merv from knocking my coffee out of my hand.
‘Alright, alright. Calm down,’ I said, abandoning my coffee and rubbing between his ears. His fur was warm under my palms, comforting in a way that only animals can bring with their lack of judgment.
I leaned against his side, letting my forehead rest briefly against his rising and lowering coat.
‘I think she’s the one,’ I told him. The words escaped before I could second-guess them. ‘I know it sounds mad. Too soon. Too rash. I really do.’
Merv snorted and kicked over my coffee.
‘Yeah.’ I stared into the middle distance. ‘Trouble is… how do I make her see it? How do I make her see that it’s not fake just because it’s fast?’
I glanced down at my phone, pulling her messages up on my screen. ‘It’s not over until it 's over, right buddy?’
‘Open-ended my arse.’
Outside, the wind whistled through the yard. Merv let out a low bray.
And for the first time since she’d stepped on that train, I stopped wallowing and decided to concoct a plan.