Page 131 of Unapologetic Love Story

Pepper swore and Solana moaned. Raina leapt to her feet, pressing back against the kitchen wall as if she’d been burned. ‘No. He . . . he wouldn’t. Is it bad? Don’t tell me. What’s the headline? No, don’t tell me.’

Solana was searching the same thing on her mobile, scrolling fiercely and breathing heavily. Raina could tell the moment she found what she was looking for, as a stillness took over her entire body. A hand trembled and rose to her lips as her eyes scanned the screen.

‘How bad?’ begged Raina, her voice barely a whisper. ‘How bad is it, Sol?’

‘Oh, Rai,’ Solana sighed, her voice full of emotion. ‘Let me read it to you?’

Raina shook her head, feeling the wall behind her in an attempt to stay stable. ‘No, I can’t.’

‘Raina,’ Pepper said softly, having taken Marc’s phone from his hands. She was reading it, too. ‘Read it.’

She handed over the phone.

Raina hesitated. Then took it.

SOMETHING INEVITABLE

Essay by Tom Branimir

In essence, I’m cancelling myself. I deserve it, too. You’ll agree with me by the time you’ve finished reading.

If you’ve been unfortunate enough to read my previous scribblings, you’ll possibly possess some idea of what it is that I contribute to the modern discourse. Informally, I’m known as the King of Cancel Culture, which is something I’ve always rejected. I think that term is thrown around by the privileged who cannot bear that the rabble now have a voice via social media. Try as I might, the people I’ve attempted to cancel, if that is the term we must use, still have hordes of followers. Apparently, you can lie about having brain cancer or invent an imaginary child in order to extort money out of people, and still avoid being torn to shreds by gossip sites and online mobs. No, the latter far prefer to go after a different sort of person.

I needed to hook a new fish. I needed a new target to aim at. Sure, I was intending to be more optimistic this time. I was looking for a breath of something good for once. I had an arrow poised as I stood in a room full of the usual suspects.

Then she walked in. And the arrow went down.

For the woman I aimed for is nothing like anyone I know.

I cannot impress upon anyone reading this how happy the past few months have been for me, and how miserable the past few days. Days I deserved, but which still made me contemplate leaving this city.

But this woman taught me that there are many Londons. There is the one I knew, the one I believed to be everyone else’s city. Delayed trains. Overpriced restaurants. Street preachers. Grey concrete. Too many airports. Tired commuters. Hopeless tourists. Bank Station. Literal hell on earth.

Then there is her London. Community. Deckchairs on marathon day. Great Chinese food. Beautiful bridges. Seafood platters and plastic bibs. Civility. Friendship. Rude vases. Blue flowers. Red lipstick.

The past couple of months have been my favourite days in London. I finally understood the stories. The flame which draws all of the moths. Because, Raina Lewis, to me, you are just that. A flame. I can’t help being drawn in.

People reading this should know I approached Raina under the guise of writing a story. Was it a guise? I don’t even know any more. But I was intending to write about her. I write about things that are interesting. She is more interesting to me than all the people I’ve met in this job combined. I figured in those early days, when a story presented itself, I would pounce. I never set out with the intention of misrepresenting her. I had heard good things. I intended to write all about those good things. But it was never really about a story for me. Instead, it became a flimsy excuse. A reason to keep seeing her. Asking her about herself. I took notes. For me alone. But I was careless with those notes and that will be the thing I regret for the rest of my life. Not just my career – my life.

I hurt you. With stupidity and recklessness.

I’m the fraud, here. I’m the one who has been living a hundred tiny falsehoods a day.

But please know this, Raina. I was never false with you. Those awful words on that hideous board (which I’ve only just resisted burning, by the way) were from those gossip sites you warned me about.

I feel sorry for them. They only get to watch you through a screen. They have no understanding of the truly gorgeous person you are.

You know, my dad always said he fell in love with my mum from the first moment he saw her. She was in a stationery shop, haggling the price of a stapler. He said he knew right there and then. I always took that with a grain of salt. I presumed he meant an initial attraction, and an admiration for a fellow tight Scot. I never believed you could look at a person and know they were meant for you.

I think I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. Laughing, in rose-gold sequins. What a thing. It’s like hearing a song that makes you stop in your tracks, wondering how you ever lived your life without it. How you survived without singing its melody.

My understanding of the world was so small before you.

We once stood on a boat together and I saw a completely different city. Then you said something I will never forget.

Raina, you said love is inevitable. That’s exactly it. It has been inevitable, loving you.

I fired no arrow that night, but instead one hit me. Squarely. Inevitably. It will be lodged in my side for the rest of my life.