I lean back against the worktop. He’s right.
Heath’s privacy would have been at stake. Jeez, when things were at their most savage online, it would have been out of this world. It doesn’t bear thinking about.
“I know Heath understands,” Josh says. “It’s natural for the heart to want to rule the head, but when you’re a man in a position like he is.” He sighs. “It’s not as if he’d ever think we don’t want to see him. Jesus, Ells, he knows us too well for that.”
I nod. “I’m sure he gets it. Still hurts, though. For all of us.”
I sigh, because there is a sense of relief now the elephants in the room have finally been acknowledged. I couldn’t face looking at my own Agency account, let alone think about Heath’s and any fallout landing at his door. I didn’t have the mental strength to handle it.
I gesture to the tub of hot chocolate in case Josh wants one, but he shakes his head. Damnit, I don’t even want one myself, but I need the sugar hit.
“You’re getting better now,” he says. “I’m so proud of you. You could have been holed up for months with that barrage of shit going on around you, and that would have been totally fair. But you weren’t. You’re such a fighter.”
I scoff laugh. My eyes feel swollen from crying.
“I don’t feel like much of a fighter right now.”
“Well, I’m looking at one. I see one, even if you don’t.”
“Thanks.”
I stir my hot chocolate. My hand is less shaky now. The pain of loss is settling now it’s had its airing and crystalised it into something tangible. Something we can face together. And I’mready for that. I’m ready to be at Josh’s side again, standing tall, rather than a wreck in his arms every night.
“Are you ok?” Josh asks me. “Like I said, I would have told you, if you’d have asked.”
I meet his eyes. “I know you would have.”
I sip my hot chocolate while he leans in the doorway. He hasn’t had a proposal tonight. He’s in a pair of loose grey joggers and a baggy black t-shirt, hair unkempt after a night of waiting up for his hooker girlfriend to get home safe, but he still looks incredible. He always does.
“When did you last hear from him?” I ask.
“Almost a month ago now.”
“How many times did he try?”
“Three. Once straight after we got back, actually.”
I shudder at the thought.
“He must have been freaking the fuck out about getting exposed.”
“Or freaking the fuck out aboutyou.”
My eyes widen. My heart pangs.
“He’d have known I’d be safe,” I say. “Safe with you.”
“Yeah, he would have.”
I look through the kitchen window. Dawn hasn’t hit yet, and there is that kind of calm ambience that always comes in the early hours of the morning, when most people are fast asleep. Psychic silence.
“For ever is a long time, you’re right,” I say. “We’ll see him again, won’t we? We have to.”
“I’m not making promises. It’s not my place to. But we can hope. We can stay positive and keep building ourselves back up.” He smiles. “And hopefully, soon, we’ll get home. That’s a good first step to focus on.”
Fuck, how I’d love to be back in Belgravia. This Airbnb is great, but the idea of walking back in through our own front door. Bliss.
“One step at a time,” Josh says. “And you’re sprinting like a champ, baby. You really are.”
