Page 42 of Hate You to Love You

‘The grand gestures?’

‘It might not be a video-tape tour of your missing memories or meeting a stranger at the top of the Empire State Building on Valentine’s Day, but sometimes all you need is someone to show up and say I love you. Being there can be enough.’

‘So how did you know Mum was the one?’ I ask again.

He turns back to the TV and smiles. ‘Because as soon as she came into my life, there was this feeling of happiness I couldn’t explain. Except every romance movie and love song finally made sense. I finally understood what they were all talking about.’

‘Do you really mean all that, or is it some line from a movie?’

‘Of course I mean it. When your mum and I first moved to Australia from the Philippines, I thought I knew what it meant to have my dream life right in the palm of my hands. I always dreamed of a life full of adventure and wonder with your mum. But for the first few years we lived here, it was so lonely. I didn’t even like my job. Day after day, I felt like I had disappointed everyone around me, dragging your mother from our home and everyone we knew – and for what? But I stuck at it, kept going, and carved out a life for us that I loved. It wasn’t always easy, but I didn’t give up. So yes, I can say that’s how I know what it’s like to go after your dreams. And when you do the things you love with the people you care about, that’s when you know what true happiness is. So, will you promise me something, Carlos?’

I lean back on the couch. ‘Of course.’

‘Never be afraid to tell the people you love how you feel. Never be afraid of that.’

‘I promise,’ I tell him.

I’m meeting Elliot at the footbridge above Petersham Railway Station to go for a walk and catch up on the week that’s just passed. The clatter of a train travelling along the tracks, winding through the suburbs and into the city, echoes below me as I approach.

Elliot is leaning up against the railing and looking out towards the city. One hand is holding the copy of Red, White & Royal Blue that I gave him, the other holds on to a blazer he’s swung over his shoulder. I hesitate at the bottom of the stairs with my focus locked on him. Just a few months ago, Elliot was a stranger. And already he’s brought so much excitement into my life that I didn’t know I needed.

Grinning, I run up the stairs towards him. He only has a second to turn in my direction before I pull him in for a kiss. A flutter of joy surges from my stomach to my heart as our lips touch, my palms resting against his chest to feel it rise and fall with every breath.

‘What was that for?’ he says, his voice rough in between breaths.

‘I want you to know that I want this. You, the dates, the romance, the walks – all of it.’

Elliot looks me up and down with a smile. ‘I love the way that you do that.’

‘Do what?’

‘Treat life like it’s a movie. You make every moment seem like it’s made of magic.’

‘I’m starting to learn that maybe that’s the point of all this. Life is pretty magical, and I don’t want it to pass me by without embracing that.’

‘Shall we?’ Elliot holds his hand out, gesturing for us to begin our walk.

We make our way down the stairs and follow the footpath alongside the railway line. As we walk, Elliot begins to tell me about one of the author campaigns he’s been working on. His stories about the publishing world fascinate me, and the way he talks about authors makes it obvious that he genuinely cares about them – and his job. The way he always strives to be better and takes clear steps to do that every day at work inspires me.

‘How’s your writing going?’ Elliot asks. ‘Any good gigs?’

I shake my head. ‘I’ve been holding off quitting my job at the photography studio until the writing work picks up… but with all my shifts at Dusk, there’s never enough time to take on the freelance jobs in the first place. The timing is never right. And I’m worried about what will happen if I take time off from actual paying work to jump headfirst into writing if nothing comes from it.’

‘If something is your dream, who says there’s ever a right time?’

I sigh. ‘You’re probably right. I’ve just always wanted to share my love for books and movies through my writing. Writing feels like a part of my soul. But if it doesn’t work out, or if people criticise my writing, I don’t know… wouldn’t that mean I was a failure?’

We’ve made it back to the station. Elliot gently pulls me up the stairs and we stop in the middle of the footbridge again.

‘None of that would make you a failure,’ he says finally. ‘Failure would be if you didn’t go after what you wanted in life at all. There are times when I think I’m just a cog in a corporate machine, but then I remember why I’m doing this. It’s because I want to make that kid who loved reading proud. I want other people who love books to feel seen and heard. If I can make even a fraction of the people I cross paths with feel that, then I don’t think I can call myself a failure at all.’

The sun is setting right in front of us, turning everything pink and gold, but I’m unable to tear my eyes away from Elliot. His words bring me such comfort and make me feel safe. In this moment it hits me how grateful I am to have someone like him in my life. ‘The view is really good from here,’ I tell him.

‘It is,’ Elliot says, his eyes locked on mine.

chapter eighteen

now