Chapter 54
MAGGIE
I run from the station, my breath hot and dry, until I’m standing outside the shop.
New paintwork, book displays and gifts arranged behind the clean window.
I take a moment to calm my breathing and tame my hair.
And mustering every ounce of my newly discovered control, I reach for the door and open it.
He doesn’t notice me come in. All eyes are on him as he reads, that voice I love so much, steady, deep, soft. I stand to the side, obscured mostly by a bookcase.
‘Turn the page! Turn the page! Turn the page!’
‘There’s still nothing there!’ A red-headed boy scowls and folds his arms.
‘Ah, but that’s because you haven’t activated the magic yet.’ Jack reaches to the table and picks up a torch, flicking it on and passing it to the boy.
Jack’s eyes tear away from the children as I step out from behind the bookshelves.
The room stills.
His eyes meet mine, dark, intense.
‘That’s my name!’ Jack’s gaze is pulled away from me, back on the children letting out squeals, heads turning, eyes almost popping out of their sockets as names emerge on the back page of the book under the torch’s beam.
‘And mine!’
He passes the book to a little girl with brown pigtails and asks her to pass it around with the torch, then gets up.
We walk towards each other. The room quietens. Like the tension, and love, and hope is expanding into the room. We stop short of touching. In my periphery, Jack’s family, customers, Nell… all eyes are on us. It’s only been a few months, but I’d forgotten how tall, how Jack, Jack is.
‘You came.’
‘I did.’ I smile, my whole body shaking. ‘You did brilliantly just then. Amazing.’
‘I can’t take all of the credit. I had help.’
I look to the right. Nell watching on with a soppy smile.
‘I…’
How to begin to tell him everything that I want to say? How to tell him, in Riz’s words, how much of a magnificent fool I’ve been. All that comes is:
‘I’ve missed you.’
I step closer.
Jack looks pleased that I came, but I don’t know how he feels about me, don’t know if he even wants me in his life any more.
‘I know that I hurt you, and that I’m not the easiest person to be with…
’ His expression is hard to read: understanding maybe?
Is he going to agree that walking away from us was the right thing?
I power on, ‘And I really really don’t expect you to forgive me for walking away without fighting for you, for us, and I totally get it if you don’t want to—’ The words fall from my mouth in a rush, bursting to get free.
‘What are you saying, Maggie?’ He tilts his head, eyes scanning my face.
‘The thing—’ I let out a breath, my throat tight. ‘The thing is. I couldn’t remember. What it is to be loved. To be part of a whole instead of watching from the outside. And, and… I’ve come here with no expectations because I know loving me will be hard and I know I’m not perfect and—’
‘Love isn’t supposed to be perfect, Maggie.’ His eyes darken, that seriousness, that sincerity, which I love about him rising to the surface. ‘Love is made up of all the broken pieces that make us us.’
Us. He said us. My heart is pounding so hard I fear I might crack a rib. ‘I said goodbye because I thought I couldn’t give you a full and happy life—’
‘But what if the only way I can have that… is by being with you?’ he asks, stepping closer, eyes fixed on me. ‘Even if we drive each other nuts on occasion. Even if it’s not perfect. God knows I’m not.’
‘But I think you are, Jack. I think you are perfect.’
‘I snore.’ He moves a little closer.
‘I sneeze when I’m full.’ I step closer.
‘I’m moody.’ Another step.
‘I’m a morning person.’ We’re almost touching now.
‘I can’t stand it when people crack the spines of books.’
‘I like cracking the spines of books.’
He scrunches one eye, flinching.
‘That was a deal-breaker huh?’ I ask, chewing my lip.
He moves closer still, a fraction of space between us.
‘No one is perfect.’ He’s so close now that I can feel the warmth from his skin, smell that familiar hint of clove and vanilla. ‘But maybe we are perfect together?’
Yep. Definitely going to crack a rib. ‘Do you think so?’
‘I do. And if we don’t at least try to live a perfectly imperfect life together, I think we will regret it for the rest of our lives.’
‘I think…’ My voice cracks. ‘I think my whole life, I have been making my way to you.’
‘So stay. I mean, of all the bookshops in all the world, you did walk into this one…’
He leans forward, a hand hesitating by my cheek, ready to wipe away the tears falling down my face.
‘For fuck’s sake, Jack—’ Nell says despite the children at the back of the room. ‘Just kiss her already.’
He smiles, slowly, and looks into my eyes.
‘May I?’
I wrap my hands around his neck.
I love you.
His lips brush gently across mine, and there’s that tug, that invisible thread that latches me to him.
We lean into the kiss, warm, desperate, relieved, passionate, his strong arms holding me tightly.
He pulls me flush against him, lifting me from the ground, turning me around slowly.
There are whoops and cheers and claps behind us, but all I can hear is my own heart beating, my own words:
I am loved. I am loved. I’m loved.