Pete’s bitter bark of laughter takes me by surprise. It doesn’t suit the warmth he exudes, and I’m frowning as I turn to face him.
“I tried a few times. Never worked out.” He faces forward as he talks, eyes taking in the winter scene like it makes saying the words easier that way. “They wanted to get away from here or from me; either way, none of them wanted to stick around, so...” His shoulders hunch, and before I can say or do something to make it better, he starts walking again. “Come on, we need to head back before it starts to get dark.”
There’s a tension to him that wasn’t there on our walk up here. I don’t like it. Not one fucking bit, and I silently curse all the men that’ve made him feel like he’s not good enough. Because I know that’s what’s going through his mind right now.
I’m a fucking expert after all. Dan saw to that.
“Dan left me on New Year’s Eve because he told me to stop wasting my time on a fucking hobby and concentrate on my real job. That his plans for us didn’t include me getting lost in my laptop every night when we could be out with friends.” Pete stops abruptly and turns to face me, where I’ve stopped in the middle of the path. I tilt my chin up, this last part hard to get out. “He said I wasn’t good enough to make it as a writer because no one would want to read my shit, and that either I accepted that or we were done.”
Pete gapes at me, shock slowly replaced by anger on my behalf. “What the fuck?”
“Oh, he apologised for that last bit, said it had come out wrong in the heat of the moment. But the truth comes out when you’re too angry to temper your words.”
“Not sure there’s any right way that could’ve come out,” Pete growls.
“I like to think it at least sounded harsher than he intended, but the sentiment was the same. He didn’t believe in me, wouldn’t support me while I tried to succeed at something I loved, and I couldn’t be with him after that.”
“I don’t fucking blame you. What a wanker.”
He still looks pissed off, and the fact it’s all for me fills me with a warmth that I want more of. Even though I shouldn’t.
“He wanted you to stop doing whatyouwanted to do and spend all your time doing whathewanted.”
“Basically, yeah.” I shiver, not really cold, but not warm either. Talking about this brings back feelings I’d rather not experience again.
“Come here.” He opens his arms and I don’t hesitate to sink into them. “He’s an arsehole and you can do so much better than that.”
Like you.
I stamp on that thought like it’s on fire.
Instead, I wrap my arms around him and let the warmth of his hug soothe me enough to get to the point of me bearing my soul like that. “The point of that story was to tell you I know what it feels like to believe you’re not enough.”
“I don’t belie?—”
I lean back and cut him off with a raised eyebrow.
“Fine. Maybe sometimes I do.”
“We are enough,” I tell him, voice soft but steady. “If someone can’t see that, then they’re not the ones for us.”
He holds my gaze for what seems like forever, then sighs and looks up at the sky. “Yeah, I know. It’d still be nice to have someone to come home to at night.”
And there’s not a lot I can say to that.
We get backto the pub as the sun is just beginning to set. The tree outside is all lit up, and even though it’s not dark yet, it’s still a beautiful sight. Christmas music plays inside, and with the chill in the air, a little festive spirit creeps in.
I know it’ll be warm and cosy inside with more decorations, and I know I’ve got more than a week left of my stay, but the thought of going back to my flat—which is devoid of anything Christmassy at the moment—doesn’t feel all that appealing right now. It’s got absolutely nothing to do with the wall of warmth standing next to me.
“Have you thought any more about Friday night?”
“Hmm?”
“Saving me from being a fifth wheel.”
“Oh.” I forgot about that. “Do you still want me there after today?”
He frowns. “The kiss?”
