“Yeah, well, they also saw you ignore me the whole car ride,” I said. “And my family saw me not come to yours at all this week because you wouldn’t return my texts. So forgive me if I’ve stopped giving a shit.”
Phil sighed again, but this time it seemed less exasperated and more just exhausted.
“Not here,” he said, almost a whisper.
“Yes here,” I said, so fucking done it wasn’t funny. I wasn’t exactly naming my future babies with Dan, but Phil didn’t know that. If he was going to interrupt me meeting new people, acting all broody and possessive, but then still not kiss me or tell me what was wrong or anything else that an actual boyfriend would do, then we needed to sort it outnow.
So I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him with me as I walked around to the other side of the retaining pool. The others shamelessly watched us as we went, so we rounded a crumbling wall into the gardens. There were couples and groups and impressively costumed people in every picturesque corner, so Phil and I stopped just in front of a roped-off path that led out the other side of the gardens into a copse of trees.
“Okay, that’s enough,” he said, wrenching his arm out of my hand. “If you wanna do this in public, then fine. Say what you want.”
“Absolutely not,” I said, shaking my head so hard I felt some of my hair come loose from the half-up style I’d so carefully done that morning. “You’re the one who’s clearly got a stick up your ass. What the hell is going on?”
“Jesus, you’re not the only thing in my life, Amy,” he said, his words full of annoyance. But his eyes went wide at the same time, and it looked as if he might start crying at any moment. He was clearly at his wits’ end. “I’ve got other things I’m worried about.”
“Then tell me,” I said, stepping towards him and trying to grab his hand, but he pulled it away again. “Does none of this mean anything to you?” I gestured between us. “Shit, do none of the last nineteen years mean anything to you? Because if it’s about Ethel, or work, or any of your friends, I care about that, too, regardless of our fake relationship status. I thought we’d established that.”
“Of course we did,” he said, holding my gaze. “It’s not that, I promise.”
“Because I don’t actually need you to be okay,” I said, desperate for him to understand. “You’re dealing with more than any one person should have to. But I need to know thatwe’reokay.”
“Why?” he snapped, his lips pursing as he bit back words before choosing them. “Why is it so important to you that we’re good, when you’re just counting down the days until our breakup?”
Was he fucking serious? Was that what this was about? No, he couldn’t mean that. There was no way that, after everything we’d been through over the years,hewas mad atmefor maintaining the boundaries we’d carefully drawn between us. My feelings for Phil had been an open secret since I’d been a teenager, and I was done pretending he didn’t know. That it was somehow excusable for him to play dumb anymore, and that I had to be the one keeping track of where the line was, when he’d been the one to draw it five years ago.
“You fucking know why,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Then say it,” he said, stepping forward suddenly, his face close enough to mine that I could feel his breath on me; feel the tickle of his beard against my nose. He tilted forward and leaned his forehead against mine, and I could feel his words as he spoke, his voice strained and raspy. “Tell me, Amy. I’m begging you.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head, gently this time.
“No,” I said softly, my voice trembling. “I’ve put myself out there for you so many times. I won’t do it again. Not without something concrete from you.”
It was the closest I’d ever come to telling Phil how I felt, and I felt him swallow hard as our heads stayed pressed together.
“I fucking tried, Amy,” he said, bringing his hand to my face, his fingers shaking against my cheek. He groaned, and it vibrated through my head and shoulders. “Youshut it down.Youmade it clear you didn’t want to have that conversation. I was ready.”
“That’s not fair,” I said, clenching my eyes shut hard. “Don’t do that.”
Phil pulled his head back, but he didn’t drop his hand from my cheek. I opened my eyes and saw a wretched, pained look on his face. He looked like he was about to break, and I knew the feeling.
And he wasn’t wrong, either. Even if I’d been the one who felt ready five years ago, I’d also been the one to shut things down last week in the river. I’d been the one to bail this time. Sure, I’d had my reasons. But he’d never looked at me like this. Like I was his lifeline. His deepest need. Like he wanted me.
No, that wasn’t true. He’d looked at me like this in the river, too. And maybe even before that, if I were being honest with myself.
And fuck, I wanted him too. So badly.
“Please, Amy,” he whispered, sounding almost like he was gasping for air as he ran the pad of his thumb over my lower lip. He clenched his own eyes shut. “I’m hanging on by a fucking thread here.”
“Then snip that shit,” I said, as calmly and evenly as I could manage, “and do something about it.”
Phil’s eyes snapped open and met mine, wide with surprise, his pupils blown so wide I could see my reflection in them. I saw the moment his resolve set, his jaw twitching hard enough that his whole beard shifted, and something bottomed out inside me.
I took in a deep breath to brace myself, but I barely caught any breath at all before he moved his hand to the back of my neck and pulled me into him, his mouth crashing against mine.
Chapter19
Phil
