Chapter Forty-Five
‘Are you sure you won’t wait until it eases off?’ asked Henry, peering out beneath the covered porch of his building and shaking his head worriedly at the rain.
‘I’ll be fine,’ I assured him, leaning in to give him a quick hug. That was a new development for us, and one I really liked. Was I ready to give it up so soon after finally finding it? ‘I want to get home before the storm rolls in.’
Henry nodded, but the concern clouding his eyes mirrored the thunderheads gathering ominously overhead.
‘And then what?’
It was an excellent question and one to which I had no answer.
‘I don’t know.’ It was an odd response for a woman who’d always prided herself on knowing exactly which direction her life was heading. I felt weirdly untethered and couldn’t decide if that was liberating or just plain terrifying. Perhaps both.
‘Just trust yourself,’ he said wisely. ‘Whatever decision you make . . . it will be the right one.’
The roads had grown considerably more treacherous during my time at Henry’s.
I needed all my concentration just to keep the car travelling in a straight line as the tyres fought for purchase on the rain-slick tarmac and the wipers struggled to clear the windscreen.
The twenty-minute drive took twice as long as it should, eating up precious minutes that I couldn’t afford to squander.
I sprinted from the car to my front door fast enough to get a stitch that javelined into my side as I raced up the three flights of stairs to my flat.
I peeled off my wet clothes as I strode to the bedroom, trying hard not to let it remind me of all the times Rhys’s clothes had lain scattered beside mine on a trail to my bed.
Was this a snapshot image of my future? Was I destined to be forever haunted by memories of him and all the what-might-have-beens?
I pulled dry jeans and a jumper on but instead of sliding the dresser drawer to a close, I delved into the back, my fingers grappling until they found my passport. I slipped it into my pocket.
What on earth are you doing? I looked up at my reflection in the oak-framed mirror and came face to face with Old Ellie staring back at me as though I’d lost my mind.
Please tell me you aren’t contemplating some crazy dash through the airport like in a sappy romcom.
I stared unblinking at my reflection.
For God’s sake, at least phone him first and tell him you want to see him.
To be fair, it was sensible advice. But I didn’t want to phone Rhys.
That wasn’t how this was meant to play out.
I’d seen the movies; I’d read the books.
I was supposed to run like a maniac through the terminal, leaping over luggage and security barriers, and rush straight into his arms. Calling him to say I was on my way was a last resort, just in case I couldn’t get there before his plane took off.
I had no chance of doing it if I drove, but there was a fast train that might just get me there in time.
It would have been easier if I had the faintest idea of what I would do when I saw him. The possibilities ranged from waving him farewell to asking if he still wanted me to go with him.
‘Everything will fall into place when I see him.’
As plans went, it was flawed on too many levels to count, but it was the only one I had.
There was no time to pack a bag – and most likely no need for one anyway.
But if I got to the airport before Rhys boarded his flight, if he forgave me for being too stupid to realise what I was about to lose, and if he wanted me to join him in his new life, then the day I’d been dreading for weeks might actually turn out to be the best of my life. But that was an awful lot of ifs.
Here’s another if, said Old Ellie, who had sneakily been waiting for me in the bathroom cabinet mirror. If you are crazy enough to follow Rhys to Australia, what’s going to happen to the business you’ve spent the last three years of your life building up?
‘I don’t have to decide that right now,’ I said, opening the door and reaching for the packet of travel sickness pills on the top shelf.
I ran to the kitchen, pulled a rubbish bag from beneath the sink, and hurried to the fridge, quickly emptying it of all perishables. I got hijacked on my way to the bin by old me, who was hiding in the polished aluminium panel behind the hob.
Moving to the other side of the world isn’t something to be taken lightly.
‘I know that. But it was wrong to shut the idea down without considering all the options. He deserved that. We deserved that.’
I raced through the flat, pulling plugs from sockets and making sure the windows were locked.
I was standing beside the lounge one, where rain was teeming down the pane, when a baritone rumble made me jump.
As much as I wanted it to be the sound of a lorry trundling past, the road below was empty.
The storm that wasn’t meant to materialise for at least another hour was already here.
Fear made my hand tremble as I fumbled with the window key. I dropped it to the wooden floor when lightning speared across the sky.
No. Not now. Not yet.
I could see my reflection in the glass, not clearly, but sharp enough to read the terror upon it.
If I was going to catch the train to the airport to intercept Rhys, I needed to leave now.
Right now. But how could I when it meant venturing out into the very weather conditions that haunted all my nightmares?
It was a ten-minute walk to the station, down a tree-lined street. Doing that journey in a storm was foolhardy, especially if you knew – as I did – that sometimes lightning really can strike twice.
The lounge lamps flickered as thunder exploded above the rooftops.
I raised my hand to the glass pane, and a trick of the light made it look as though there was another me outside the window, in the torrential rain, looking back in.
Lightning illuminated her, and I saw there was a curious smile on her lips.
You can do this, Ellie. You’re stronger than you know.
It wasn’t OG Ellie staring back at me. Nor was it the new one I’d become in the months after getting struck by lightning. This was a different version. One who knew the importance of living and loving to the full. Who finally had her priorities sorted out. Who wasn’t afraid to take a chance.
Without hesitation, I plucked up my coat and bag and ran out of the flat. I hurtled down the stairs, trusting fate wouldn’t have brought me to this point only to have me end up in a crumpled heap in the hallway with a broken leg.
Yanking the front door open, I began to run.
Freezing cold rain drenched me in an instant, but the fire burning inside me, the one no storm could quench, sped me across the puddle-strewn pavement so fast it felt like I was flying.
Lightning lit the charcoal skies, momentarily dazzling me.
I sprinted on, not allowing my eyes time to adjust. With my vision blurred by the torrential rain and the strobe imprint of the lightning, it took me several seconds to realise a shadowy shape was heading towards me at speed.
The rain shimmered like a desert mirage as the figure swerved into the road to close the gap between us even faster.
Puddles became waterfalls as pounding feet ploughed through them, following a pathway of petrol rainbows that turned the tarmac into something magical.
I faltered for a second, unable to believe what I was seeing, and then I let the storm carry me forward as I ran faster than I’ve ever done before . . . straight into Rhys’s arms.
We collided like magnets, his body crushing mine with an intensity that threatened to steal my breath away. ‘Rhys. What are you doing here?’
I could feel him trembling against me, and although the rain was bitterly cold, I knew that wasn’t the reason.
I levered myself back to see his face. His hair was plastered to his head and there were raindrops clinging like diamond chips to his long black lashes while others coursed down his face in rivulets.
His jeans and shirt were less than useless at protecting him from the elements, and shockingly he wore no coat, just the lightweight clothes he’d chosen to travel in.
‘Your flight leaves in less than ninety minutes. Why aren’t you at the airport?’
‘I was. I was on my way to the gate when I realised I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t get on that plane and take myself away from you. It felt like I was leaving part of me behind.’
Above us lightning arced across the sky as though nature had launched a firework in celebration of this moment. And then a mouth I’d feared I would never kiss again claimed mine with a hunger and desperation that answered all my unspoken questions.
I was breathless when we broke apart.
‘I was on my way to you. I had to speak to you before you got on the plane.’
A light that I’d been responsible for dimming slowly reignited in his eyes.
‘Then there’s still hope?’
‘There was always hope,’ I said softly, pressing a kiss on the lips I knew would be the last ones I would ever kiss. ‘And love too.’
He pulled back, just a few inches so that my field of vision was filled with a pair of brilliant green eyes.
‘I love you, Rhys. I have done for a very long time. I’m so sorry I never told you that before today.’
‘You’re telling me now, and that’s all that matters.’
‘In the pouring rain, in the middle of a thunderstorm,’ I said on a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob.
‘Where else could we possibly do this?’ His arms tightened and he pulled me in closer, trying to shield me from the weather, from harm, from everything.
‘Do you want to go inside?’
‘In a moment,’ he said, pressing me even tighter against his body. ‘Right now, I don’t want to move, because I really thought I’d never get to hold you like this again.’
Rain was steadily trickling down my neck, pooling in the small of my back, and yet all I could feel was a warm glow from his words.
‘We’ve so much to work out. So much we need to decide upon. We—’
‘Later,’ he said, silencing my worries with another kiss.
I snuggled closer, my hands sliding from his neck down to his chest. As they did, my fingertips grazed something almost hidden beneath his shirt. I moved the fabric aside and saw the tape of a large wound dressing.
‘You’re hurt,’ I cried, peering at the bandage that covered a large section of his upper chest, directly over his heart.
‘Not exactly,’ he said, taking the hand that was resting on the gauze and bringing it to his lips. ‘It’s a tattoo,’ he said, sounding sheepish.
‘A tattoo?’ I returned my incredulous gaze to his chest. ‘But you’re terrified of needles.’
‘I am. But this was something I had to do.’
Realisation dawned slowly in my eyes. ‘The marks, the Lichtenberg figures. You’ve had them tattooed back on, haven’t you?’
He nodded. ‘We once said that you and I would last as long as they were there. I just took out some extra insurance.’
‘You were always coming back to me, weren’t you?’
He nodded again. ‘And you were never going to let us go?’
I inclined my head in agreement. ‘I’m never leaving you again or letting you walk away.’
I’d seen so many smiles on that handsome face, but this one was new to me. It was filled with tomorrows.
Then he bent his head and kissed me again, properly and thoroughly and yes, there was thunder and lightning exploding overhead, but all I saw were stars.