He’s getting out of his car.
I drop my bag and rush towards him, meeting him halfway. He holds my face with both hands and kisses me for the longest time. For the last time. It’s a kiss that both gently warms yet viciously blisters my heart.
‘I do adore you, Nora’ he admits, his head resting against mine. ‘God, I adored you from the moment I saw you. You deserve to know that. Ineedyou to know that.’
I nod in acknowledgement, my hands still holding his waist.
‘I’m sorry,’ he utters, ‘I’m so sorry that—'
‘Don’t be sorry,’ I interject, ignoring the tear that’s escaping down my cheek. ‘I’m not sorry. Even if this is all we get, I’m grateful we met. No regrets.’
I remove my hands from his waist and step back. Thirty seconds later, he drives back to his old life, and I do the same.
CHAPTER33
‘Will you stop texting Charlie! She knows what time you’ll be home tonight, she knows you love her, give the girl some space.’
‘How do you know it’s Charlie?’
‘Because the only other people you text are right here,’ Faith replies. I hear Victoria giggle. ‘Nora, just give me a yes or a no, it’s really not that difficult.’
‘Fine, I’ll do it,’ I exclaim, putting my phone away. ‘But he’d better not be like the last one. Still can’t believe he whippedthatout over lunch!’
‘I apologised for that,’ Faith replies, a slight smirk beginning to form. ‘I had no idea he wore top dentures. Listen, this one is far better; I think you’ll have a lot in common and… ugh, this glass is dirty. Whose idea was it to come here, anyway?’
Victoria and I lock eyes for a moment. Reminding Faith that it was in fact her idea to come to Edinburgh’s third-worst Italian restaurant on TripAdvisor seems futile. I watch her eyes dart around looking for a waiter as she pushes the offending glass into the middle of the table.
‘Youalwaysthink I’ll have lots in common,’ I respond, trying to pull her crosshairs away from the overworked waiting staff. ‘But you also thought I’d have a lot in common with that mildly racist barber, so I’m not overly trusting.’
‘Trust me, he’s a definite contender,’ Faith insists. ‘Tell me, how do you feel about anaesthetists?’
‘Numb,’ I reply, laughing at my own joke. Faith isn’t amused.
From the corner of my eye, I see Victoria’s fork stealthily appear and spear my pasta like a silverware Shinobi. I frown. ‘Something wrong with your salad?’
‘Yes,’ she replies, shovelling my tagliatelle into her mouth. ‘It’s salad.’
‘Then why the hell—’
‘Your problem is you’re still holding a candle for thatman,’ Faith interrupts forcefully. ‘Which, quite frankly, is a little ridiculous – sorry, can I have a glass that isn’t filthy, thanks so much –a weeklong fling with a man does not merit this amount of pining, Nora. It’s been weeks!’
‘Pining?’ I ask as the waiter speedily places another glass in front of Faith. ‘Who’s pining? I am fully committed to finding someone, honestly. I barely even think of Will anymore.’
This is mostly true. Since bootcamp, I have been far more open to meeting someone, though it has been trickier than I anticipated. Two months ago, I came back from Cairn Castle a different woman, an improved woman – stronger and far more optimistic about the future, but as hard as I try, my longing for Will has not passed quite as quickly as I’d hoped. And good God, I’ve tried.
Victoria cocks her head to one side with thereallylook she likes to throw in my direction when she suspects I’m talking nonsense. Which I am. I think of him frequently. I sigh as I suspect thisquiet dinner with the girlsI've agreed to is just another intervention.
‘How many times have you looked at his Facebook profile?’ Victoria asks. ‘Or his Twitter account?’
‘None,’ I reply, ‘And I don’t even know if he has a Twitter acc—’
‘All writers are on Twitter,’ Faith insists. ‘They can’t help themselves. They think everything they write or think or eat warrants an audience.’
‘Well, regardless, I’m not falling down that bloody rabbit hole!’ I reply. ‘I need to get over him, not stalk him on social media!’
‘Ha! So, you’re not over him!’ Faith yelps victoriously. ‘I knew it!’
I slump back into my seat and sigh while Columbo takes a triumphant bite of her steak.
