‘I’m genuinely worried she is going to die, Abbey.’
‘It’s going to be okay, Kate, no matter what.’
‘I’m so sorry, Abs, for that fucking stupid argument. For being overbearing, for everything.’
We were talking nose to nose, pressed against Nick’s chest.
‘I’m so sorry too. I should have never let it burst out like that. Where are you staying? Are you okay? You can come home.’
‘I, umm, yeah. Well, I’m uh, I’m actually staying with someone from work.’ She paused, pulling back from Nick. ‘Actually, it’s Sebastian.’ She blushed furiously.
‘The hot doctor?’ I said, smiling and nodding encouragingly. I grabbed Kate back in my arms. ‘I’m happy for you, Kate.’
‘Thanks, Abs. Sorry for trying to project him onto you.’
‘That’s okay.’ I snickered, finally letting her go. ‘He’s very hot and perfect. You have to bring him to meet Iris. She will be beside herself.’
‘Yeah. I’ll call ahead, though, and make sure she can put on her lipstick.’ Kate smiled, sniffling.
‘Come home if you need to, okay? And at least come round for dinner one night this week, all right?’ I squeezed her hand.
Nick had ordered her an Uber, and we walked outside to see her into the car. She hopped in, waving to me through the window as they drove away.
Our driver was still waiting for us outside. Nick opened the door for me, and I climbed in, but only to the middle seat. He slid in beside me and I curled into him for the time it took us to get back to my place. He gave his driver a few instructions when we arrived and then he grabbed our luggage, carrying it into my house. He headed straight to my room and dropped our suitcases on the floor as if we had been on holiday a thousand times together and this was our routine. He then went back to the car and reemerged with groceries.
I pressed my back against the door after closing it, relieved to be home but overcome with emotion.
‘Nick,’ my voice was raspy with gratitude and love for him.
‘Yep?’ He popped his head around the corner after taking the groceries to the kitchen and walked back into the hallway. His shoes were already off, his long legs clad in blue denim, a plain white T-shirt adding to the homely perfection of having him there. ‘You, okay?’
I marched forward, gently wrapped my arms around him, and pressed a tender kiss on him.
‘Thank you for today. I don’t think I have ever been more grateful in my life.’ I kissed him again, this time deepening the kiss, exploring his tongue, inhaling him.
He let out a noise, a contented sound, and tightened his grip on my waist, pulling me into him. I reached for the bottom of his T-shirt, but he stopped me, a firm grip on my hand.
‘Abbey, sweetheart, are you certain? I never want to cause you pain again.’
I needed him, I wanted him, I loved him.
Iris was right. The love is worth the pain. I loved him more today than I did yesterday. I knew if there was a dawn tomorrow, I would love him even more again. There was nothing that could change that. Not him, not his immovable boundaries. Not me and not my new firm rules. I could not change any of those things, but – by God – I wanted to. I had tried to make him see that, together, we made perfect sense. And while there was still time left, I would continue to try to get him to see that he loved me, too. And if this was the last time, well, I wanted that memory.
I put my mouth against his ear and breathed, ‘Yes.’
He took off his T-shirt and then reached for my hand, leading us into my room. We would block out the world, pretending for one more night. In the morning he would be gone, and I would make certain that us being thrust together at work was no longer an option.
Nick
There were twenty-four perfect hours. And then there was a void, a chasm.
Our lovemaking was slow, and it felt … meaningful and poignant. It also felt like goodbye.
She napped in the afternoon, and I made myself at home in her kitchen. My driver had gone for groceries while we were with Iris, and I showed off a little with a lasagne recipe I knew by heart. Ev often cooked when someone was worried or stressed. I could not tell you the number of times she had landed on my doorstep with freshly cooked meals, especially with Rebecca’s illness and especially through those dark times after. The beef ragu was her recipe.
When Abbey awoke later that day, the smells of tomatoes and garlic wafted through the house and she came out sniffing appreciatively, taking the glass of Shiraz I handed her and sipping it slowly. I had put on a playlist of our favourites from the holiday, but acoustic versions where I could find them and they were playing softly in the background, while we snuggled on the sofa.
Wrapped in a fluffy red jumper, Abbey was very touchable, and I spent an enormous amount of time running my hands along it throughout the evening.
