Before I can say anything else, he leans in and kisses me hard. All heat and heart, like he’s pouring everything into it. I pull him into my arms, and we tumble back onto the blanket in a breathless tangle, laughing as he curls against me like some clingy little octopus.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We kiss and laugh and tease each other until the sea breeze turns sharp, nipping at our skin. Pulling on our hoodies, we start gathering our things, the blanket fluttering in the wind like it doesn’t want to leave either.
Now that we’ve agreed on a plan for going back to London, there’s a new ease between us, a quiet sense of purpose. Being so in sync only deepens the connection we already share.
We haven’t touched the subject of his parents again. I can see he’s not ready, and I won’t rush him. When he is, I’ll be right here, exactly where I’ve always been: beside him.
There’s another question hanging between us, though, one we haven’t fully addressed, where we’ll live. Something’s going to have to change, and soon. I can’t stay in that flat much longer, not if we want a space that feels truly ours. As soon as we’re back in London, I’ll start looking for somewhere new.
If Seb decides to stay in England, we could find a place together. We could build something real. But if he chooses to go back to Paris as he’d originally planned, we’ll be facing a long-distance relationship, and the thought of being away from him guts me.
I’d never try to hold him back, though. I know how hard he’s worked for everything he’s achieved. I won’t be the reason he gives any of that up. Still, I can’t help it, just the idea of falling asleep without him beside me, waking up to a world where he’s not close enough to touch… it already hurts.
But whatever happens, I’ll support him.
And honestly, I’m amazed, and deeply relieved, that his panic attacks have eased lately. Aside from the understandable breakdown after the brutal rejection by his parents, he’s been managing his stress so much better than when we first met.
He hasn’t been in my life long, but it already feels like he’s turned it upside down in the best possible way. And I can only hope I’ve done the same for him.
The rest of the day passes in a kind of blissful haze, the sort that leaves you wondering if it was real or just some perfect dream. We cycle home slowly, taking in every last stretch of coastline, and by the time we arrive, the sun is dipping low on the horizon, casting a golden glow across the garden.
Mum, Maude, and Ben are already sitting out at the table, sipping aperitifs and chatting as they admire the view. They’ve changed into their evening clothes, casual but elegant, perfectly relaxed. It feels like something out of a painting.
Naturally, Mum’s the first to speak.
“How was your trip, darlings?” she asks, eyeing us over the rim of her glass. Then, squinting at our faces, she adds, “Goodness, you’re both red as tomatoes! Don’t tell me you forgot the sun cream?”
Seb and I exchange a guilty look, then burst out laughing like a pair of kids caught sneaking biscuits before dinner.
“Uh… yeah, Emma. I might’ve forgotten,” Seb admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not used to the beach, it completely slipped my mind. But honestly, we had the best time. I absolutely love Cornwall.”
Then he flashes that dimpled smile of his, the one that could charm the birds out of the trees, and I watch Mum melt on the spot.
I get it. Believe me, I do.
Ben and Maude exchange a knowing look, silently shaking their heads at how obvious Mum’s soft spot for Seb has become,but, to their credit, neither of them says a word. She, on the other hand, reminds us that if we don’t want to lose our reservation, we’d better get a move on.
Seb and I race each other up the stairs. He’s just about to win when I catch him around the waist, and we nearly tumble into my bedroom in a heap of limbs and laughter.
He squirms, trying to break free, but I don’t let go. Instead, I start trailing kisses across every inch of exposed skin I can reach, his neck, his jaw, the delicate dip of his collarbone. He tastes like sunshine and sea breeze, and within seconds, my brain is utterly useless.
A rather unmistakable part of me is also making its presence known, but Seb pretends not to notice, at least for now.
“Oh, so this is your thing now, Remi?” he teases, feigning outrage. “Wasn’t body-slamming me once enough? You had to do it again?”
“Correction,” I murmur against his skin, “you tackled me, sweetheart. But I didn’t mind then, and I certainly don’t mind now.”
I pause, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes.
“I’ve been yours since the moment I saw you. You know that, don’t you?”
He flashes me a smug little grin.
“Aren’t we sweet tonight? I like it, I’ll admit, but don’t think it’s going to charm me into shower sex while your family’s downstairs waiting for us…”
“What?!” I protest with an exaggerated pout, but it doesn’t work. He slips out from beneath me and strolls toward the bathroom with maddening nonchalance.
