A corner of his mouth crooks up. ‘Hey.’
‘Hey.’ Her voice is barely a whisper.
His gaze briefly moves to a car over the other side of the road. She follows the direction and sees the suitcase, obvious in the back seat. And she knows.
‘You’re leaving?’ She didn’t mean it to come out so high-pitched. She knew this was coming, after all. She’s had time to prepare, had time to make a different choice. And she hasn’t. Still that doesn’t stop the leaden weight in her gut.
He nods. ‘I said I’d come and say goodbye.’ He smiles a little. ‘Fitting, I guess.’ She glances at him in question, and he shrugs. ‘It was exactly a year ago that we met, technically.’
A year, she thinks. And multiple lifetimes. She takes a careful step towards him, tilts her face up. The rain is getting heavier, dampening her hair.
‘Where will you go?’ she asks. ‘Brazil?’
A non-committal shrug. ‘Going to spend a few weeks in Spain with a friend. But then, yeah, I think so. I’ll see what comes in work-wise and go from there.’ But it’s said without the usual sense of freedom, almost sounding a little bitter.
Trying to swallow down her emotion – because she doesn’t want to inflict that on him – she closes the distance between them and hugs him, breathing in his scent for the last time. His arms come around her, like he can’t help himself, and she squeezes her eyes shut, resting her head on his chest. She feels his fingers flexing on her back. She wants to tell him that she’s leaving too. That she’s quit her job, that she’s going to try something new. But she can’t get the words out.
‘So, past lives, huh?’ he says as he pulls back. She wonders if he just doesn’t know what else to say. She managed to stop the tears earlier, at her mum’s house, but now she’s crying as she nods. ‘Well then,’ he says, reaching out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. ‘Maybe we’ll meet again, in another one.’ But not in this one – because he won’t come back. He has no reason to. Not any more.
She tries for a smile. ‘You think?’
‘Maybe. Maybe that will be our chance to get it right.’ She doesn’t know if he actually believes that or whether he is humouring her, but it makes her think of what Mia said. And about what Saskia said – about having patience. About the timing needing to be right.
He hesitates, then kisses the top of her head – a fleeting, tender gesture. ‘I’ll see you, Liss.’
With that, he’s moving away from her, back turned in a sudden and complete full stop. She watches him walk across the road, the rain soaking through to her skin. And she knows, in that instant, that she can’t do it. She can’t stand by while he walks away – can’t lose him, not again. Chloe lost her life on this day all those years ago, and as such, the day has always held meaning for her. But maybe that’s okay, because it’s a reminder to take chances, to live her life.
It’s a question of timing. But who’s to say the timing isn’t right now? As Saskia said, all you can ever do is make the best possible choice in the moment. And this is the choice she wants to make right now.
She takes a step after him. ‘Wait.’
He stops like he was listening out for her voice. Turns back. Something like hope flickers over his face. It’s that that makes her sure. The hope. Because like her, he’s had so much tragedy in his life, and she doesn’t want to be another point of darkness. She wants to be the light.
There is a lump in her throat as she moves towards him, and he mimics her, so that they’re in the middle of the road, a line of cars either side of them.
‘I love you,’ she murmurs. She can’t remember the last time she said the words out loud. It feels terrifying. Exhilarating.
For one heart-stopping moment he says nothing, staring at her. Then a corner of his mouth pulls up. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yes.’ Her voice is steady, certain. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.’
The smile spreads a little. ‘Better late than never.’ But he doesn’t reach for her. Instead he stays still, watching. Because, she supposes, that doesn’t necessarily change anything.
She swallows. She’s the one who has to take the chance here. Who has to take the leap of faith. ‘I love you,’ she says again. And now she closes the distance between them, framing his face with her hands. Her voice grows a little smaller. ‘And I don’t want you to leave me.’
He reaches for her waist, pulls her to him. Beneath her sodden jumper, her skin heats at his touch. ‘I don’t want to leave you either. I don’t want to leave at all. I want to stay put – with you.’
Her heart rate spikes at the low, gravelly sound of his voice, and she places her hand on his chest to steady herself. ‘Then let’s do that, okay?’
‘Okay.’ And then he’s kissing her and she’s kissing him back, and there is no fear or hesitation, only the taste of him and the pull of something deep inside her. A car horn sounds, too close, and someone whoops.
Lissa is laughing as the kiss breaks off, as Ash pulls her to the side of the road so the car can pass, tyres throwing up water from the tarmac. She laughs again as he lifts her on top of the bonnet of his car to keep kissing her. The rain beats down on their heads – she can feel it as she fists her hands in his hair.
When they finally stop, they are both breathless.
‘I hate to say it,’ Ash says against her mouth, ‘but I reckon we need to make a break for it.’ Another car passes, splashing in a newly formed puddle. He cocks his head, his hands resting on her thighs. ‘Your place?’
‘No,’ she says, jumping down from the bonnet. ‘Let’s go somewhere.’ He considers her, then concedes with a nod, fishing out keys and unlocking the car.
