“Fine,” I say, taking a step back.
He wanders in with the tote bag I gave him this morning slung round his shoulder, admiring the lack of usual clutter covering the table, the clean counters, and the shiny sink. Queen is still playing at a high volume and “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” has come on. It takes me a while to locate the remote to turn it down a bit.
“You really messaged me?” I ask him.
“Yes.”
Leaving him in the kitchen, I head to the bedroom and reach under the pillow for my phone. Looking at the messages, I find a string of them from Ryan. He must have sent them just after I hid my phone from myself. Typical.
The first one is him asking if he can come over after work, followed by practically an essay. I take a moment to read it before joining him in the kitchen:
Harper, I owe you an apology for how I handled the days leading up to your redundancy. I’m so sorry. I need you to know that all I wanted was to protect us and I hated the idea of hurting you. I wanted to do things differently this time round… I couldn’t act normal with this knowledge hanging over my head. That’s what I did last time and I lost you. I figured I was doing the best thing by staying distant until you were informed and we could talk it all through, but I realize now that avoiding you hurt you even more… and it ended up hurting us even more, too. I wish Icould go back in time and change my behavior, but since I can’t, please know that I am truly sorry and will do everything in my power to make it up to you, if you’ll let me.
After everything you said this morning, I’m really hoping you will let me.
I’m on my way to you now Xxx
I read his messages a few times, taking it all in, and then, composing myself, return to find him waiting for me in the kitchen.
“The place looks great,” he comments.
“You messaged an hour ago,” I note, putting my phone on the table. “That still means you left me waiting all day to hear from you.”
“I’m sorry, Harper, I had so many meetings, and I was trying to figure out what to say to you on the phone and I knew I had to apologize properly, so I rambled on in a WhatsApp before realizing it would be better to come see you in person. But I should have worked that out sooner and messaged you earlier. It’s just—the office is pretty stressful at the moment, now that we’re three people down. I don’t know how we’re going to make it work.”
I cross my arms. “I’m not sure I have that much sympathy for you there.”
“Right.” He nods. “Anyway, about this morning.”
He puts the bag on the table and slides out the gift I gave him. It’s the Max Sjöberg article we wrote together, and it’s framed. I didn’t have time to get it done properly. I put it together in a rush last night after I got back from dinner with Mimi. I had to search around all my pictures in the flat to find a frame that would fit the article. I found a black one that used to house a verypretty print I bought from the Saturday market in Herne Hill and swapped the article into it.
“Thank you for this,” Ryan says, holding it out and gazing down at it. “Our second ever byline together. I’ll have to hang it next to our first. I would say that maybe there will be plenty more to come, but I’m not so sure of that, now that you’re a famous podcast host.”
I look down modestly. “I’ve only done one episode.”
“And it’s already top of the charts. I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he says, putting the frame down on the table. “I’m sorry that Cosmo interrupted us this morning and that I had to go to that meeting. I thought about quitting on the spot just so I’d have the chance to go after you.”
I raise my eyebrows at him. “That would have been an extreme action.”
“Some moments deserve extreme action,” he states firmly.
“I wouldn’t have approved,” I say, unable to stop a smile. “If you were going to quit all along, then the least you could have done was accepted voluntary redundancy and let me keep my position there.”
A smile plays along his lips.
“And if that had happened, you would have been under Cosmo’s repressive rule for even longer, and you have suffered that long enough. Look what you can achieve when you do your own thing.”
I shrug. “Maybe it has worked out for the better.”
“Maybe?” He chuckles, his expression softening as he relaxes into the smile. “You’re on the edge of something big, Harper. That much is clear.”
“I hope so. I guess we’ll see.”
He stares at me intently. “Did you mean what you said this morning?”
“About you being a nightmare for someone like me to work with? Yes.”
“I already knew about that bit,” he says, rolling his eyes. “For the record, you’re a much worse colleague. Do you know how annoying it is to work with an editor who doesn’t keep a schedule of publication dates for their features?”
