Crap, then we’re going to sit in the camper van together all the way back to England.
Maybe I’ll actually just do what Callum would like and drive as far as possible each day on the fastest route, so that we get back as quickly as possible. Never having to see each other again cannot come too soon for me.
‘Emma.’ Callum’s voice comes from just behind my head and I jump. ‘You wanted to sightsee when you got to Florence. Let’s walk around the centre.’ He comes next to me and holds up his phone. ‘I’ve googled. Here are the Tripadvisor top-ten sights. We could walk round and look at some of the beautiful buildings and go across the Ponte Vecchio.’
I shake my head. ‘That’s very kind, thank you, but I think we should probably just get back. I’m thinking you’re right. We should go straight home as fast as possible. I have a long way to drive tomorrow and I need my sleep.’
‘Emma, no. You can’t cut short your trip because of me.’
I start walking. ‘I can come to Florence another time. It’s totally fine. I’ve been away for ages. I’m feeling kind of homesick anyway now. I actually really just want to get home.’
‘Emma, obviously I don’t want to tell you what you’re thinking or second-guess you. And I don’t want to presume to think that I just landed a difficult-to-hear bombshell on you. But if your change of plans is anything to do with me, please let me change my plans instead. I can switch hotels now. And I can happily stay in Florence until I find different transport. So you can carry on the way you were going before you gave me the lift yesterday.’
I shake my head again. ‘No, I offered you a lift and I am of course happy to carry on.’
I’m not happy. I’m very unhappy.
‘I don’t want a lift any more, then. I’m not going to continue the journey with you.’
Oh. I feel unhappy about that too. I slow my pace while I think.
I don’t want to be the person who consigns him to a week or two in Florence when he needs to get home. And, selfishly, I don’t, I suddenly realise, want to say goodbye to him – probably forever – without having some kind of further proper conversation, because I feel like that’s been hanging over me for the past twelve years. I also, however, do not feel strong enough – ever – to have that conversation, now that I know it willhurt.
I’m also not really going to enjoy my sightseeing any more, because if I’m on my own for hours on end I’m just going to be thinking about Callum the whole time.
One positive thing is that I can’t really be bothered to pretend any more. I don’t think I have any pride left to lose.
‘I don’t feel very happy now,’ I conclude out loud. ‘And I’m not going to feel that happy whether you stay or go. And I don’t really feel like carrying on with the sightseeing aspect of the trip; I just want to go home now. So if you said you wanted to stop travelling in the van with me to be kind or polite, then please continue on with me. Obviously if you said it because you don’t want to travel with me any more, then fair enough.’
There’s a long pause and then Callum says, ‘Emma, I’d like to explain something to you if I may.’
Oh myGod.
I think this isit. The conversation. About why he didn’t come back to me. Should I choose to have it.
‘Explain?’ I ask cautiously, while my brain whirrs.
‘Yes. About… us… from my side. If I may? Could we perhaps go for a walk? Not just straight back.’
I make a split-second decision and say, ‘Okay.’
Ishouldlet him explain. I’ll regret it forever if I don’t. I don’t need to spend any more time wondering.
And oh my goodness, we’re doing this.
My heart’s racing like nobody’s business now.
There’s a road off to our left and we begin to wander down there. Callum begins to speak.
‘First off,’ he says, ‘I loved you more than words can say. I loved being with you, I loved talking to you, listening to you, walking with you, making love to you. I loved everything about you. I loved that you cared so much about me and tried so hard to make me live in a less self-destructive way. There were so many little things. The way you tuck your hair behind your ear to give yourself time to think. The way you can’t get out of bed in the morning but when you do you throw yourself into your day. The way you talk to everyone. Although that is also scary when you’re travelling alone in Europe. Anyway. I never got a chance to tell you that like that. It all happened so fast at the end.’
‘I didn’t think it was the end,’ I mumble, wondering if itmeansanything that somewhere in the middle of hisgorgeouswords he switched from past to present tense.
It’s actually starting to feel like a huge relief that I might finally be able to tell him how I felt, because he was the only person who could ever have understood properly.
‘Nor did I,’ he says.
Oh.
