The idea of being physically intimate with Max again felt a bit like approaching the top of a roller coaster. My biggest fear was that Tash would rear up in my mind like a jack-in-the-box whenever he tried to touch me. But in the end, it didn’t work out that way. After supper, Max and I went back to mine, our nerves slightly quelled by the preceding hours of conversation. And that first kiss, which I initiated, on the doorstep, felt entirely natural, like something I’d been craving after many weeks of abstinence. In fact, I was surprised by how hungry I felt for him, by how much I wanted to go straight upstairs and start where we’d left off three months earlier.
Once we were in my bed, Max let me lead, and for the first few minutes I imagined we were back at university, on that very first night before we went home for Christmas. I pretended we were starting all over again, that the past had been erased. And then my body took over, the pleasurable twitch of muscle memory, and everything felt better than even I had thought possible. Afterward, we lay naked on the bed together, breathing hard, the curtains still open, listening to the sound of kids passing by on the street below, swearing and shouting and laughing through the single glazing. And I felt strangely at ease, like I’d just found the missing last piece to a jigsaw that had been driving me crazy.
Since then, we’ve been a little stop-start. I know Max wants me to set the pace, to say how often I want to see him, to suggest the things I fancy doing. Which is thoughtful of him, and in some ways helpful. But sometimes I just want to pretend the whole Tash thing never happened—I definitely don’t want to discuss it any more than we already have—and I think Max is aiming for some kind of middle ground that doesn’t really exist.
The worst part has been wondering what everyone else thinks. Only Jools and my immediate family know the true reason behind our temporary split, and when we’re out with friends or colleagues, I occasionally catch a sideways glance, an uncertain smile. Like they’re thinking,Who cheated on who? Is he bad in bed? Is she actually really boring? Is he an unbearable snob?
I try not to think too hard about what they’d say if they knew the truth.
—
On the pavement outside the karaoke club, I dither for a moment. For some reason, I feel nervous about going inside. Maybe it’s the prospect of another dark space with no windows, being crammed into one of those hot, airless booths together. I don’t want to take the risk.
“You okay?” Max asks, as I hesitate, watching the others go in ahead of us.
We could just go home, I think. Zara’s gone back to Highgate. Everyone’s drunk already. I wouldn’t be letting anyone down.
“Come on. Let me be all cheesy and bellow ‘Wonderwall’ at you.”
I smile and squeeze his hand, because to be honest, that’s an offer that’s hard to resist. So I take a breath and follow him inside.
As we’re waiting to be shown to our booth, my gaze is drawn to a tall, dark-haired figure in front of us. He’s with another group, and I can only see him from the side, but he looks horrifyingly familiar.Same slim build and pale shirt. A demeanor rippling with confidence, a self-possession that chills me. He’s only a couple of meters away. He could turn, and...
I feel for a moment as though someone’s clamped their hand across my mouth. My body goes stiff and rigid, skin prickling all over like I’ve been pushed into nettles. If a fire broke out now, I wouldn’t be able to flee. My pulse becomes an urgent, fluid rush between my ears.
Nate.
No. It can’t be.
Nate. He’s here. He’s found you.
Finally, I force my body to move, and in the next moment I’m back out on the street. Heaving cold air like I’ve just run the race of my life, I bend over in an effort not to pass out, but my heart is beating so fast, it’s touch and go.
Feeling a hand on my back, I jump, before realizing it’s Max.
“Luce? You okay?”
“Sorry,” I gasp. I’m ridiculously relieved to see him, like I’ve just woken up from a nightmare.
“God, what’s wrong? You’ve gone gray.”
It takes me a couple of moments to find the words. “I just saw someone in there who...”
He waits, but I can’t say it.
“Someone you know?” he prompts.
I shake my head. “Someone who...”Maybe it’s time to finally tell him.
I must look quite ill, because Max doesn’t ask any more questions. He just removes his coat and wraps it around me—it’s only now I realize my teeth are chattering—and orders us a cab.
Thirteen
Stay
“What—so you actually saw them hugging?”
I frown, nod. “Yep.”
