Page 90 of Unapologetic Love Story

He felt Raina freeze. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means . . .’ Tom scrambled for the right words, surprised that he was even voicing this. ‘Seb and Ottie are definitely well suited. They can be narcissistic, they’re shallow and they crave status. So . . . it makes sense for them to get married. It’s just creepy to see people clapping and cooing as if it’s romantic. It’s not love. It’s not like how I feel for—’

He cut himself off, clearing his throat and glancing back towards his celebrating friends.

‘It’s a business deal more than anything,’ he concluded.

Raina was so still beside him and her voice was cold when she finally spoke.

‘I think that’s an awful thing to say.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Raina felt an icy chill, despite being warmed by Tom’s jacket. She slipped it away from her body and returned it to him, silently begging the boat to pull into Putney quickly so that she could disembark and get home.

‘What’s wrong?’ Tom asked, frowning in genuine concern.

‘Those are your friends,’ she said, taking a step backwards. ‘And you talk about them like you don’t even like them.’

‘They’re my friends, yes. But come on, Raina. They’re not lovesick puppies. This is . . . not fireworks and roses. Or whatever. It’s not what we . . . That is, it’s not real. It’s kind of inevitable.’

‘Like love,’ Raina said, furious with herself for getting upset. ‘Love is inevitable.’

She regretted it in an instant. She’d intended to keep this sliver of herself out of the cynical writer’s path. She’d joked about being a hopeless romantic – joking was one thing; the truth of it all was quite another.

‘I think it’s lovely,’ she reiterated. ‘And I think you should go over to your friends and congratulate them.’

He looked concerned about her, but he obeyed, crossing the boat to shake Seb’s hand and kiss Ottie’s cheek. Raina watched on from the outside. She stood alone by the bow of the boat and looked at the engagement party from a distance. She drank in Ottie’s delight and the way she showed everyone her ring. She smiled as people slapped Seb on the back.

In a world which so many people tried to make ugly, Raina loved moments like this.

She loved love. In all its forms. Men and the pets they didn’t know they needed. Parents and children. Grandparents. Friends who’d become each other’s families. Exes who were still in each other’s lives. Step-parents who did what another had never tried to. Aunts, uncles, and neighbours you called Auntie or Uncle. Co-workers who’d gone from arguing over the photocopier to sneaking five minutes in an empty room. Lovers. Married couples. Childhood sweethearts.

All of it made Raina feel hopeful. It made her feel the same sweet, dancing joy she’d known before everything became about fitting in and seeming normal.

Tom might be right about his friends being a little conceited and shallow, but he didn’t know their hearts. He didn’t know the secrets of their time alone when the rest of the world was shut out.

Just as no one seemed to know the person she was coming to really like. The one, when alone with her in Barnes, who was sensitive and kind and funny and warm.

Not this scornful, disparaging man who held most things in contempt.

He reappeared, looking uneasy. ‘You were right. I was being harsh.’

‘No,’ she said, waving away his statement. ‘Ignore me, I had a moment.’

‘No, you were right. I was being a dick.’ He leaned down and pressed a kiss onto her shoulder. ‘Sorry. I’m sorry, sweetheart.’

‘Why am I on a boat with you and your friends?’

She looked at him with genuine curiosity. She was asking the question because she’d entered into this strange tryst with him, never imagining that they would end up here. Fooling around on a posh little boat while drunk girls labelled them relationship goals. Or eating crab in silly, plastic bibs while she poured out a small jug of the truth about her family issues.

They weren’t in a relationship. There were moments when Raina would forget that. Then she would remember how they’d met. Why they’d met. She would feel a twinge of apprehension when also remembering that they’d not yet had a serious discussion about him dumping the piece.

Tom never did anything she didn’t want. He read cues the way he wrote. Attention to detail, committed and determined. During their time in bed, he exhibited moments of true vulnerability. He was unexpectedly affectionate. Reverential. She’d almost expected the worship-like way he treated her in bed to be a facade, one that he’d drop in favour of taking what he needed instead.

But one night, she’d been experiencing stomach pains. She didn’t tell him, but he must have caught her wincing. After stepping out of her shower, she noticed he’d left tea, paracetamol and a hot-water bottle by the bed for her. He was always attending to her. It was becoming so much more than great fucking and fun company. There was real care.

If she mentioned a book, he read it. If she silently admired something, he bought it. He was always asking her take on things, stating it was because she was smarter than him. He wasn’t just an incredible fuck. He cooked for her. He massaged her head. He stroked the palms of her hands when she was overstimulated. He remembered everything she told him about herself.