Everything inside Sophie suddenly dropped down like she was in a broken lift, a nerve-rattling swoop and then a freeze while you waited to see if it would go back up or keep going down. ‘I thought you still had two weeks?’
‘Larry, who is a nice man and does not deserve to be thrown to the piranhas, no matter what my imagination says, worked miracles so I could get back to London.’ Mike rubbed his hands over his face, his eyes hollow.
‘Oh.’ What else could she say to that? They’d both known this was coming, she just thought she’d have more time to prepare. ‘Is this the part where you say, “Maybe this is for the best, a clean break” or some nonsense like that? Because fair warning, if you do, I might stab you with a fork.’
He looked at her, crushed. ‘No.No, Sophie.’ He moved towards her then, pulling her into his arms. ‘There’s no direction I can take to approach this situation where I come back with anything approaching the phrase “for the best”. This is, in fact, shit.’ He squeezed her tight, rocking her in his arms. ‘Absolute shit. FuckingLarry.’
She laughed and they both ignored that it sounded slightly damp. She stepped away from him then, turning so she could wipe her eyes. When she turned back around, Mike was examining the table that held her laptop, notes and half-drunk cup of tea.
‘How’s it going?’
‘Mildly terrible,’ she said. ‘But Edie had some good suggestions.’ She sniffed. ‘Mike, what if—’
Mike cut her off. ‘The only thing I want you to say next is, “What if I look you up when I get back to London?” ’ He tipped his chin at the table. ‘Because as far as I’m concerned, you’re where you need to be. You’ve worked really hard, Sophie. You deserve this. Don’t toss it in the bin just for me.’
‘Quite an ego on you,’ she said, trying to lighten the mood, because he was right: for a brief, frenzied moment, that had been what she’d been about to suggest. ‘I was going to say, “What if I make that cup of tea now?” ’
He laughed and it didn’t sound any better than her laugh had a moment before. ‘I don’t want a cup of tea.’
Sophie tugged at his hands, leading him back to the bedroom. ‘That’s okay. I’ve got a better idea.’ She felt hollow inside, already feeling like Mike was slipping away from her. But what could she do, ask him to stay? He had a job. Family. A home. No, she couldn’t ask it of him. But this . . . she could do this.
Mike followed her into the bedroom, standing docilely as she stripped away every stitch of his clothing. She couldn’t find the words she needed, not this time, so she did her best to tell him through touch.
Stay. Just . . . stay.
A long time later, Sophie lay naked in his arms, head against his chest, as he dozed. The evening light filtered in through the window, and she thought about how much her heart was breaking and what that meant. It wasn’t a thought she wanted to dwell on, especially after the way Mike had made love to her, each kiss, each touch, slow and thorough, like he’d been saying goodbye to every inch of her skin. She thought that maybe he, too, had been at a loss for words and was doing the best he could to say what he needed to say.
Like he thought he’d never see her again.
Mike stroked her hair, and she closed her eyes tight, not wanting to cry. ‘I can hear the wheels turning in your head again.’
She felt too sad to laugh. ‘Is this why you cancelled on me yesterday?’
‘Kind of. I was trying to wrap everything up for Larry and it took longer than I wanted or expected. I didn’t get out of there until after eight.’
And he hadn’t come straight to her. Probably hadn’t wanted to drag the goodbyes out. Well, that quite clearly told her where she stood, didn’t it?
‘What time’s your flight tomorrow?’
‘Six in the morning.’
He likely wouldn’t be staying at hers tonight, then. Still, she found herself asking anyway. ‘Lot to do back at the flat?’
‘No, I got most of it done before I came over. I just need to go and get my bag and then head to the airport. Until then . . .’ He traced her jaw, lifting her face up to his. ‘Can I stay here? With you?’
She should say no. Ithurtand there really was something about drawing these things out. But she didn’t want to say no, so she didn’t. In fact, she didn’t say anything. She kissed him instead, telling him again without words how much she wished he’d stay. That for the first time in a long time, someone would choose her.
But if he heard her, it didn’t stop him from walking out of the door.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mike left Sophie’s flat at an hour too late to be called night and too early to be called morning. When he got back to his rented flat, he showered, but didn’t bother shaving, telling himself that there wasn’t enough time, but really, he just didn’t want to look at his own face. He was a little afraid of what he’d see there. He went into autopilot mode, getting dressed, locking his flat and handing in the keys.
Rideshare to the airport, ticketing, boarding, then a long flight with a child kicking the back of his seat that Mike didn’t say anything about, convinced he deserved it.
London was . . . London. He didn’t notice much of it. Just went back to his flat, wheeled in his suitcase, watered Barney, who had a label sticking out of his pot bearing a speech bubble that said, ‘Welcome home, Gramps!’ The plastic brontosaurus now had a friend – what looked like a small plastic capybara.
He spent a moment wondering at what point capybaras had evolved to roam the earth, because he was certain that it hadn’t been at the same time as brontosauruses, but then what did he know?
