Page 41 of Unapologetic Love Story

The words were uttered without unkindness, not even a hint of bite, but they still wounded his heart. In some part of himself, he was under the impression they shared . . . something. Something that he wasn’t able to name. More than his usual detached fascination with a subject.

That was the thing about Raina. While she was careful to keep so much of herself hidden from view, what she did choose to reveal was so often drenched in honesty. She didn’t mean to hurt his feelings; she was just confused as to why he would think she wanted to spend any more time with him than she needed to.

Tom suddenly felt very exposed.

‘Good point,’ he said stiffly. ‘Well, I’ll ask you again. Why did you start the podcast?’

‘I’ll take the scones to go please, Mr Hsu,’ Raina called to the owner of the restaurant, who beamed at her and nodded. She then opened her beaded purse to put some notes down, using her now empty water glass to pin them to the table.

‘I don’t want to answer that, Mr Branimir,’ she said softly. ‘Okay?’

She moved to go. Tom stood up so jerkily he bumped the table and knocked over the glasses. Raina turned around, startled by the sudden noise.

‘This can’t . . .’ Tom stumbled over his words, something he’d never done until her. ‘This can’t be goodbye.’

She blinked at him. ‘I’ve answered your questions. I won’t answer that last one. Anything else, you can find online. I think you’ve seen enough.’

No. Never. Not even close. He didn’t know her favourite films. Books. He didn’t know why she never brought up her parents. He didn’t know how she’d got the tiny little scar on her right eyelid. He didn’t know the name of the stalker she’d so casually mentioned. He didn’t know her bad habits. He didn’t know which hair dye she used. Her romantic history. What she liked in bed.

And he wanted to know all of it.

‘Raina,’ he said slowly. ‘This can’t be the end.’

She smiled sadly. ‘Goodbye, Alice. I hope Wonderland wasn’t too boring for you.’

He watched in dismay as she collected her baked goods and left the cafe, unpinning her long hair to let it fall down her back as she walked away.

Tom knew he had no right to feel devastated, but he did. He was bereft.

CHAPTER TEN

It was nomination day for the Mondays, and Raina was trying to distract herself during a recording of her podcast. She was reading patrons’ names, thanking them for their support, and trying to focus on literally anything other than the announcement. Pepper was assisting, which wasn’t unusual, and every time she glanced at her phone screen, Raina would throw her a look of silent admonishment.

‘Next week, we want you to write in if you have a great meet-cute story about you and your significant other,’ Raina said into the microphone. ‘Until then, stay uninspiring.’

It was a fond signoff that her subscribers enjoyed. So many disabled women were sick of being called inspiring just for going to the supermarket or getting dressed up, especially when they were being denied personhood and agency in so many other ways, so Raina had started ending each session by happily telling them to be as mundane or as unremarkable as they wanted. She’d been nervous the first time around, wondering if people might misinterpret her, but the delighted comments came pouring in and thus the catchphrase was born.

Once the recording was over and beginning to download, Raina finally allowed herself a moment to exhale and admit that she was nervous about the Mondays. The podcast had grown at a rapid rate, garnering a lot of attention over the past year. It meant that she was eligible for Best New Host and Best Entertainment Podcast.

‘Let’s go out and get lunch,’ Pepper said cheerfully, taking her headphones off and getting to her feet with a breeziness that seemed just a little forced.

Raina was about to do the same when her phone started to vibrate on her desk.

‘Unknown number, London based,’ she said, in a high-pitched voice.

‘Answer it!’ bellowed Pepper.

Raina flapped her hands for a moment and then grabbed the phone, pressing the small green button. ‘Hello . . .? Yes, speaking.’

‘Oh, my Lord,’ murmured Pepper, fidgeting and jumping on the spot.

Raina was experiencing slight tinnitus as she listened to the calm and friendly voice on the other end of the line. She felt Pepper grab her hand and squeeze at one point, her friend’s anxiety and anticipation pulsing into her own body like a current.

‘Thank you so much,’ she finally said. ‘Goodbye.’

She pressed the red button and let her phone fall to the desk.

‘Well?’ Pepper finally croaked.