Page 97 of Italy and Forever

‘Sorry I missed your call,’ she said instead of a greeting. There was no answer for half a second – long enough for her to start panic babbling. ‘Maybe I should have called you, actually. Apparently I missed you in Weymouth last night.’

‘Yeah.’

She was glad of a bench to sit down on after the way her stomach dipped and soared just to hear that one word.

‘I was at my parents’ last night.’ Finally, the dread took over for long enough to still her tongue. ‘You… called me?’

‘Yeah,’ he said again. ‘I wanted to say goodbye. I’m leaving today.’

‘I know. I wanted to say goodbye too. I’m actually…’ She wasn’t sure whether to admit where she was, when he apparently wanted to say goodbye over the phone.

Then he blasted through her expectations. ‘Erm, I’m standing outside your flat in Glastonbury.’

‘Oh fuck!’ She’d rarely meant a profanity more, never experienced such a mix of happiness and despair. It was awful how accurate her wedding speech had been about love.

‘I’ve been here a little while,’ he continued. ‘It might be too late now.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry⁠—’

‘I don’t have long. My flight’s at four.’

‘But that’s not the evening!’ Ginny protested. ‘Four o’clock does not count as evening.’

‘Er…’

‘That’s not important,’ she muttered.

‘You’re not… nearby? I need to get the bus or I’ll be late.’ His tone was flat, but there was a crack in his voice that she felt under her skin.

‘Okay,’ Ginny said, gathering herself with a deep breath. ‘Don’t go anywhere. I’ll come and pick you up and drive you to the airport, but it’ll take me about forty-five minutes.’

So much wasted time. He should have just answered his mam’s phone call – or she should have had the guts to call him herself.

‘Are you sure? That’s a long way. Where are you?’

‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she mumbled with a desperate laugh. ‘I’m at the airport, Rhys,’ she said, pausing to chew on her lip, ‘to make sure I catch you.’

40

All this time, he’d been agonising outside her flat, thinking she wouldn’t want to see him, when she’d gone to find him. He couldn’t wrap his thoughts around it.

It was an interminable forty-five minutes before her car pulled up. He remembered the ancient bright-blue Fiesta from the day they’d met – the first time, in April last year. It had almost as much personality as she did.

She flung herself out of the car but seemed to catch herself before she approached, slowing her steps and clutching her hands in front of her.

He picked up no cues as to how he was supposed to greet her. A hug would have made sense between friends, but it felt dangerous right now, with the nature of their goodbye in the balance.

‘Hi,’ he said, clearing his throat.

‘Hi,’ she parroted awkwardly, reminding him of those conversations back in August when everything had felt wrong, because he’d been fighting his feelings – the way he was right now.

‘Thanks for⁠—’

She shook her head in response to his half-finished sentence. ‘Don’t thank me. I’m here because I want to be.’ The emphasis on that word ‘want’ had to be intentional, but he couldn’t guess at her meaning. She wanted to make sure he was actually gone so she could breathe again? That was almost relatable. Probably, though, she was feeling guilty for misreading him that day at the castle.

‘You don’t need to apologise for the day after the wedding,’ he rushed to say. ‘I was surprised to hear I didn’t recognise you. I usually do. Sometimes it feels like I should recognise some people.’

When Kira had told him last night that she’d seen him at the castle, it had torn him in two at first, thinking he’d hurt her inadvertently. But then he’d wondered if it changed his perspective on those last hours in Italy. She hadn’t pointedly left without saying goodbye. She thought he had. And now they were standing here, as disastrous as they always were when they weren’t kissing.