I recognised it before I even saw the rudimentary ‘Go Leesa’ scrawled in black permanent marker. Thinking back to that day in the hospital, in pain – physical and emotional – still brought a twinge of mixed feelings.
‘I was such a dick that day – self-absorbed and insensitive.’ I could hear how much the memory had haunted him in his tone.
‘You’ve apologised in about a dozen ways,’ I pointed out. ‘And I’m still here.’
‘I can’t quite believe it,’ he commented, brushing a thumb over my cheek. ‘I screwed up badly back then, but you need to know why, even though it’s fucking embarrassing.’
‘Hmm?’ I took the sign from him and studied it. I’d accused him of playing a joke on me with this sign, imagining the other side had a picture of a hairy man-eating spider or maybe just a pair of googly eyes, since he’d gone through a period of sticking them onto all my stuff.
He swallowed heavily. ‘Turn it over.’
My skin prickling, I did as he said to find the reverse side scribbled all over, with words written in all caps, some of them crossed out with vicious strokes of the pen. It was a clumsy attempt at meaning and I saw the struggle, the utter frustration expressed on a single piece of cardboard and if I hadn’t already fallen in love with him, I would have done it then.
I like you.
You’re beautiful.
I dream of you.
I’m going tomissyou.
You’re EVERYTHING to me.
Maybe I love you.
It was more than my brain could process, so I reacted on instinct, throwing my arms around his neck and holding on, the cardboard hanging from my fingers. I clutched at his hair with my other hand, wanting to shove him and yell at him, but squeezing him close instead.
After a rough kiss that felt like a sob, I sagged against him as my head spun and my heart expanded.
I felt the deep breath he took before he spoke. ‘It’s always been you, Leesa. For me. I didn’t take it seriously in September – or all the years before – and I made everything worse and I’m still so fucking sorry. But I’m ready now – for this, forus. Whatever it takes. No maybes – I love you.’
Staring again at his mixed-up heart poured out onto the sign, I groped for his hand. ‘I think I felt this, back in September – something of it anyway. I started seeingyou.’
‘It was almost too late.’
‘It wasn’t too late. You’re right. I need passion in my life and my work and I need cycling – at least as a hobby. My brain has always been the dominant part of me, but it’s not the only part.’
He slung his arms around me. ‘Your brain and I get on just fine, but I do like all the other parts too.’ There was the cheeky smile I knew well.
‘I might request to stay on the PowerFuel account,’ I said thoughtfully. ‘I think I might be anass-et.’
That earned me a playful swat on the backside, which I’d known it would.
‘You’re more than an asset. You’re a genius.’ He punctuated his sentence with a smacking kiss on my cheek. ‘Whatever you want to do, we’ll make it work.’
Amazingly, I believed him. ‘We will.’
‘We absolutely will,’ he said, almost aggressively, ‘or I’m quitting.’
‘Donotlet your dad hear that!’
I should have remembered that Tony Gallagher had sharp hearing for his team and an uncanny sense of timing. ‘Let me hear what? Get over here, Colin! You’re needed for the podium protocol.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘And quick smart. I have to drive down to the women’s team tonight or Seb will skin me.’
‘Go,’ I said, giving him a push.
‘I’ll bring you back a bunch of white flowers,’ he said, flashing his eyebrows at me as he gave me one last kiss.
‘Beware Colin Gallagher bearing gifts. Are they going to spray water in my eye?’
