‘So, you’re not a total cynic,’ she mused.
‘Romance might be dead for me, but it’s fine for other people. Speaking of which, Rosie’s not the only one smitten with Harley?’
‘No,’ Kirsten frowned, ‘I think Vanessa’s interested. I keep catching her eyeing him up.’
Not what I meant, but before I could correct her, she touched my arm.
‘Why is romance a no-go? You’re still so young.’ Fell silent for a moment, before whispering, ‘Is it to do with the scars?’ Seeingmy face, she tagged on, ‘You can trust me if you want to talk about it.’
Thought about cake baking session. How had zoned out and relived what happened, scary and horrible. But also, lighter afterwards. Cleansed. As if had helped process trauma, just a little.
‘I didn’t share much with my therapist before moving.’ Paused. ‘Found it too hard, so she suggested keeping a journal.’
‘Does it help?’
‘Yeah. It feels better putting it on the page, and I’ve missed writing. I was a journalist.’
She nodded. ‘Maybe saying it aloud will help too?’
Have come a long way in past few weeks and want to move forward. Not ready for next step though, especially after what happened in garden. ‘Don’t feel up to it today, but if I change my mind, you’re the first person I’ll come to.’
‘Okay.’ Jumping to her feet, she held out hand. ‘Time to go.’
‘I don’t know…’
‘You’re not sitting here alone, brooding over everything. Besides, it’s better to get it over with, and no way can you be responsible for Rosie not getting a birthday cake. I need help carrying it outside.’
Standing, I pretended outrage. ‘Are you using emotional blackmail?’
‘Yep,’ she quipped cheerfully, ‘because I care about you. We’re friends, right? Or becoming friends?’
Warm feeling stole over me. Felt confident, with her support. And couldn’t keep hiding away every time something bad happened. Not sustainable.
‘Sure,’ I replied, letting her tug me off sofa.
Following her out and locking front door, was filled with gratitude she was there during my crisis, just as Harley had been. They’re more suited than people might think.
‘What are you smiling about?’ she asked as we walked to her flat.
‘Nothing,’ I replied, ‘absolutely nothing.’
Just because I’ll never have my own love story, doesn’t mean can’t be happy to witness someone else’s.
When we returned to party, Ethan had left. Definitely didn’t spend whole afternoon awaiting his return, or check the walled garden for him, which looked miraculously shiny and bright. Orangey-red bricks gleamed in sunshine and black gate was freshly painted. Where did Harley find the time?
‘Gorgeous,’ I murmured, dancing my fingers over a coral rose bush, whose blooms had lifted their heads towards the sun. A golden shimmer raced over their petals, like glitter, and I blinked. Stared, but no trace. Must have imagined it, or been a trick of light.
CHAPTER 19
Harley
A Smile Costs Nothing
Ever since their ill-advised kiss, Kirsten’s been cold and spiky. It bothers Harley more than it should, and he misses their budding friendship. She accepts him for who he is, but also sees his potential to be a better man. He’s never had that with a woman before. Maybe he should try talking to her about what happened? But he’s never been good at the kind of stuff and is afraid he’ll make things worse.
Wanting Rosie to be happy, because she’s a sweet kid (God knows why she’s so fond of him), he’s spent the morning setting up her birthday BBQ. Now, he chuckles at how disproportionally delighted she is about his trimmed beard, motioning for him to lean over to run her fingers over the wiry bristles. Something in his chest twists at the affection.
It’s compounded when Rosie lays her small hand over his sternum, declaring, ‘Your heart is good.’
