She disappeared back inside. I tilted my head back and looked up at the stars, heart pounding painfully.
I loved him too. There was no denying that. Somewhere along the way, I’d fallen in love with Satoshi Tsukamoto.
I loved him, so I couldn’t keep him. He would never be the one to break it off, so I had to be the strong one.
But the look on his face – the desperation in his voice – the way he’d gone so terrifyingly limp when he fainted…
I pulled out my phone, took a long, shaking breath, and called him.
Unsurprisingly, he didn’t answer, so I dug through my emails until I found Isamu’s number. ‘It’s Fiona – don’t hang up,’ I blurted out, when he answered. ‘I just want to know if he’s all right.’
There was a short pause before Isamu spoke. ‘He’ll be fine,’ he said, voice clipped. ‘We’re at the hospital. The doctor’s with him now, but it looks like it was a panic attack, coupled with exhaustion. He’s been working too hard.’
Mum reappeared beside me, glass of water in hand and a quizzical look on her face, but I held up a finger, telling her to wait. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘No,’ Isamu said. ‘You’ve done enough.’
Chapter TwentySatoshi
Tasting today: sencha green tea.
Familiar, homely, comfortable – a hug that might make you feel better, even if it won’t fix a broken heart.
When I woke, I was in Isamu’s bed. Sun was streaming through a gap in the curtains, and Yquem was basking in it. She was draped across Isamu’s lap in the armchair, and they were both fast asleep.
The last thing I remembered was the hospital. How had I got from there to here? Had Isamu carried me, like a child?
And had he stayed here with me, the whole time?
I eased myself up to a sitting position, trying not to wake him. My arms trembled, my body ached, and my thoughts were coming too slowly – although it was more groggy than foggy now, the kind of exhaustion that came from sleeping too much rather than too little. How long had I been out?
I reached for my phone, which someone – Isamu? Okasan? – had placed on the nightstand. It was half-past one in the afternoon, my battery was nearly dead, and I had a missed call from Fiona.
Fiona.
It came flooding back all at once, the pop of a cork from the bottle. I flung the covers back and got out of bed. I had to go to her – I had to fix it – I had to—
‘Sit down.’
Isamu’s voice was like the crack of a whip. I tried to resist, but my body wouldn’t obey me, and I was powerless to do anything as he shoved me back into bed. When had he woken up?
‘You’re not going anywhere.’ He rearranged the covers over my knees. I was wearing pyjama pants that were too broad in the waist and too short in the legs, clearly a pair of his. ‘Or doinganything.’
‘But—’
‘The bar is closed.’ He showed me an Instagram post on his phone, which read,Due to a family emergency, Tsundoku is closed on Sunday 3 February.‘You have nothing to do and nowhere to be. And you are going to stay in that bed, Sato, so help me God.’
‘But—’
‘Don’t move.’ He plonked Yquem on my lap. ‘I’ll get you some tea.’
I exhaled, scratching her behind the ears. ‘That is the ugliest social media graphic I’ve ever seen, princess,’ I muttered.
Isamu was back quickly, carrying a tray with a pot of green tea, looking visibly relieved that I hadn’t tried to mount some kind of daring escape. ‘Here,’ he said, pouring me a cup.
My fingers shook as I accepted it, and he paused. ‘Have you got it? I can help—’
‘I’ve got it!’
