Page 73 of Hate You to Love You

Sunlight beams in through the window, projecting a soft glow over Elliot’s face.

‘It was about my dad,’ I blurt out. My chest rises and falls as I let out a deep sigh of relief. ‘I miss him.’

‘It must have been so hard.’

‘It was. I wish I’d spent more time with him.’

‘You weren’t to know that he was going to get sick.’ Elliot rubs my wrist in soothing circles.

‘It’s not the guilt. His death has made me question everything. How could the universe that I believed made everything happen for a reason put someone like him through so much pain?’ My eyes fill with water. ‘He never did anything bad. He was my idol. My hero. He showed me that living was all about embracing life to the fullest with hope… But since he died, everything feels so hopeless.’

Elliot tightens his hold on my hand gently. The touch of his skin against mine is enough to make me feel less alone.

‘After he died, Mum reminded me that he wouldn’t have wanted me to wallow in my grief. So I tried. I tried to be that person who romanticised everything. But there’s this feeling in my gut that it’s wrong, trying to be happy without him here with me.’ I let out a shaky breath. ‘And that’s the thing. I hate grieving for him because it isn’t fair. All I want is to turn back the clock, I want to go back to when everything was happy.’ I lower my head and sink back into my seat, taking a deep breath. ‘But every day I wake up, and I’m still not back there. Things keep changing. People keep leaving. Is this all life is meant to be? Pockets of happy moments that don’t last, and a series of eventual goodbyes?’

Elliot takes my hand in his again. ‘I know it doesn’t make losing him any easier, but maybe the best way to honour him is to live the life he wanted for you?’

I wipe away my tears with the sleeves of my sweater. ‘Thank you,’ I say with a shaky voice.

‘What for?’

‘For listening. For being here. For reminding me what a good guy you are.’

As soon as I say this, I feel a twist of panic. At some point, I’m going to have to deal with how I feel about Elliot. I can admit now that the feelings never went away for me. But how would Elliot respond if I admitted my feelings?

I look out the window to see the sun rising above the horizon, illuminating the sky in gold. The past week has been weighing down on me, but suddenly it doesn’t feel so heavy. Instead, it feels like I’m shedding the weight, ready to move towards a future that it’s in my own hands again.

Redhouse has set Claudia up at The Raeburn, a chic hotel in the neighbourhood of Stockbridge. Meanwhile, Elliot and I are in the more budget-friendly Motel One right in the heart of the Old Town, overlooking the Edinburgh Waverley train station. When I push open the blinds of my room, I’m astonished by the view. The entirety of the Old Town, in all its medieval glory, sprawls out in front of me, rising all the way to Edinburgh Castle, positioned high on a hill standing guard over the city.

I pull out my phone to take a photo, then look into my contacts to send Addie an update about the tour. As my finger hovers over her name, the sight of my group chat with Sal, Laney and Jones niggles at me. I know I should check in, ask how they are. But I stop myself. They’re the ones who are so insistent on moving on. It’s time for me to do the same.

With Claudia’s first event not until the evening, I decide to spend the rest of the day exploring the city. And as I open my door, I find Elliot standing in front of me, his fist raised, preparing to knock.

‘I came by to ask if I could show you something,’ he says shyly.

‘Oh, I was actually going to do some sightseeing.’

‘This isn’t for work. And I think you’ll like where we end up. Besides, didn’t you tell me you wanted to have fun?’ Elliot raises an eyebrow.

I look away sheepishly. ‘I did.’

‘And didn’t I promise you’d find your magic again?’

Elliot breaks into a smile as he says this. My heart swells and I’m overcome with tenderness. I can’t help but smile back.

‘Okay,’ I say. ‘Let’s go find that magic.’

Nothing about Edinburgh’s medieval architecture feels like a facade. Elliot and I walk past buildings rich with heritage, turning down narrow alleyways with secret staircases that somehow lead to other streets. Buildings and streets appear to be built on top of each other, everything connected. It’s a lot colder than London and Dublin as well – which I didn’t even think would be possible.

‘Where are we going? I ask Elliot as we head down a narrow, cobblestone street.

He leads me across the road. ‘There’s a bookstore I used to visit when I came here for work. I think you’ll like it.’

Minutes later, we’re on the outskirts of the Old Town. Elliot gestures towards a bright white shopfront. The sign above the door reads: Book Lovers.

‘You came here all the time? I ask.

‘It was my favourite.’