‘Yes,’ I say.
He nods. And then he says, ‘Do you think… Is there any possibility… I wondered…’
‘Yes. I love you too,’ I tell him. I have nothing to lose by saying it. I can’t be bothered to pretend. I mean, he knows I do.
‘Four short words.’ He suddenly sounds a lot more confident.
‘Yep.’
And then we just stand and look at each other. Dominic is smiling. I am not. I don’t know whether I should be happy or sad, because where is he going with this? Is he just musing? Is this simply a declaration born out of pity because of my embarrassing outburst last weekend? Is he just going to repeat the exact same things that he said before? I don’t know.
After a while, I say, ‘I’m cold. We should walk.’ I don’t wait for an answer but begin to march off.
Dominic obviously follows me (it would be weird if he didn’t) and says, ‘I could warm you up?’
Suddenly I amfurious. Why did I have to fall in love with theonemoron who reciprocates that love but doesn’t want to do anything meaningful about it?
‘Fuck off,’ I say, enunciating each word very clearly. ‘You’vewarmed me upenough. I don’t want any more meaningless sex. I love you. You apparently love me but you aren’t into commitment, your prerogative, but I have no interest in becoming even more miserable. So thanks for letting me know and goodbye.’
‘No!No. I didn’t mean to say that. It was stupid.Reallystupid.’
‘Oh shut up,’ I mutter and turn round and stomp back in the direction we just came from.
‘Would you like to date?’ Dominic says really loudly from behind me. ‘Seriously date.’
My head shoots round so fast it’s a miracle I don’t give myself whiplash.
‘Proper, commitment dating,’ Dominic elaborates. ‘With no actual end in sight? As it were. As in, hopefully forever dating? As in, this is the first time in my life I have contemplated such a thing. Actually, no, not the first time. The third. The first time was when I nearly asked you to move to New York with me twelve and a half years ago. And the second was when I nearly asked you to consider a long-distance relationship with me when you went to Kazakhstan. And, yeah, when you put it like that, this – between you and me – has kind of been going on for a very long time.’
‘Wow.’ My heart is suddenly swelling so much I can’t articulate any other words.
‘To be taken entirely at your pace,’ he says. ‘I never, ever, ever want to hurt you again. I’m so sorry.’
I smile at him because I’m out of words.
‘I think I fell in love with you a very long time ago,’ he tells me. ‘I’ve kind of loved you forever.’
I keep smiling.
‘You know,’ he continues, ‘I liked you when we were teenagers. I don’t think you even noticed me. I was so happy that first night that we met properly at your parents’ party. But also so gutted about the timing. I almost – insanely, because we were too young and you’d only just started work – asked you to come to New York. And the second time, when you were leaving for Kazakhstan. Gutted again. And then, I don’t know, I just had a succession of rubbish relationships. Because you’d ruined me for love, I now realise. And then when we met at Christmas I just couldn’t believe I’d harboured this thing for you for so long, because we seemed so different. And then I learnt from you that I should seize the day more. And that it was love all those years ago and always has been, and I just want to try to make you happy forever.’
I’m crying now. Big, fat, ugly, gulpy, happy tears.
‘Me too,’ I sob. ‘All of it.’
And then he steps towards me, and I step towards him, and then he holds his arms out and I run into them and then we’re kissing and kissing like there’s no tomorrow.
Eventually, I wriggle a bit because my feet really are extremely cold. ‘Maybe we should walk,’ I say.
Dominic holds his arm out and I slide mine through his, and off we go.
‘Café?’ he suggests.
‘Good idea.’
‘Our mothers will be very happy,’ he says. ‘And Vinny.’
‘Vinny?’
