Leo’s all business, his voice calm and measured as he lays out the facts like he’s presenting a report. He’ll continue to pay for the apartment until my ankle is fully healed. He’ll also pay for whatever support I think I need for dog walking and for my Captain Giggles routine.
I try to match his businesslike manner.
“I really appreciate it. Thank you for all of your help.”
Thank you for all of your help. Like he’s a contractor who’s finished renovating my bathroom. Like the last six weeks have been a transaction—services rendered, invoice enclosed, please rate your experience out of five stars.
“Archie—”
“No, genuinely.” I lean against the kitchen counter, my arms folded. “You’ve been amazing. Above and beyond. I couldn’t have managed without you, and now I can, so it makes total sense for you to get back to your real life.”
The words come out smooth and bright and completely hollow.
This was always going to have a short lifespan, wasn’t it?
He lives in America. He only came into my life because he tried to get revenge against my brother and then he stayed out of guilt. Everything that happened after—the parties, the banter, the sex, the sleeping curled together, the way he remembers how I take my coffee—all of it was built on a foundation that was never meant to be permanent.
And yes, it developed into something more than either of us anticipated.
He tried to talk to me this morning, and I shut him down.
It’s natural that he’s now made the decision to leave, isn’t it?
I’m a genius who let himself be stupid about this.
“When are you leaving?” I ask, and my voice is steady, which I’m proud of.
He clears his throat. “I booked a flight for later tonight.”
I’m not even going to get one more night in his arms. I feel like someone has just punched my throat.
“Well,” I say. “We’d better get you packed. I don’t want you accidentally leaving any of your stuff here. Especially not your ties. I refuse to be responsible for the welfare of your tie collection. Did you know ties originally developed from Croatianmercenaries in the seventeenth century? The French saw them and thought, ‘That’s decorative,’ and they adopted them at court. So really, every time you knot a Windsor, you’re honoring a long tradition of soldiers who wanted to look nice while stabbing people.”
I’m talking too much. I know I’m talking too much. But if I stop talking, the silence will fill with all the things we’re not saying, and I’m not strong enough for that right now.
It’s best if this finishes now, cleanly and like this, rather than it getting to the point where Leo can’t stand me.
I don’t think I could bear to see the way he looks at me change, see disappointment replace amusement in those dark eyes.
Which is almost guaranteed to happen if he sticks around with me for longer.
“Archie,” Leo says, and there’s something in his voice that makes my chest hurt. “I need you to know?—”
“That you’ll text? Sure. We can be the modern equivalent of pen pals. I’ll send you pictures of the dogs, and you can send me pictures of spreadsheets. It’ll be riveting.”
“Archie.”
“Or we could start a podcast:The Unicorn and the Consultant. You handle the business insights, and I’ll handle the comedy. We’d be massive.”
“Archie, stop.”
The words are said with such authority that I do stop.
Leo crosses the room. He’s standing right in front of me, close enough that I can smell his aftershave, coffee, and the thing underneath that’s just Leo. His hand comes up and cups my jaw, tilting my face toward his.
He kisses me.
It’s not an urgent or hungry kiss, not the crackling heat between two people who can’t keep their hands off each other. Instead, it’s slow and deliberate.
