‘You didn’t have any cake yet, did you?’ I ask him, hoping he’ll taste possibly the one thing I can put in an oven and not burn to a crisp.
‘It was late when I got back,’ he tells me. He looks like something is weighing on his mind. ‘It looks amazing.’
‘Yes, Stacy gave it ten out of ten.’
‘Stacy?’
‘My new friend from England who I’ve met in the bar a few times,’ I explain. ‘She came to see me today. We had such a lovely afternoon.’
He lets out an obvious sigh.
‘I thought you were with Billy.’
I splutter so hard I fear I’ll spill my hot chocolate this time.
‘Beige Billy? Ah, come on. Give me some credit, Charlie. He’s a really nice guy but if I hear about his divorce one more time … no, I politely turned down his dinner offer. He’s not for me at all.’
I cup the mug in my hands and lean back against the sofa, stretching my legs out so that they skim his – accidentally, of course.
‘Wait a minute,’ he says as he watches me. ‘You look a bit smug right now.’
‘Do I?’ I can’t hide it. ‘You weren’t – you weren’t jealous ofBilly, were you?’
He shakes his head but can’t seem to find the words to deny it. He catches my eye but I look away, as my thoughts drift into a darker, all too familiar place.
‘I’m not the happy person you think I am, Charlie,’ I whisper out of the blue, staring at the hearth. ‘I put up a front, but I’m not great company these days. I’m not very strong at all.’
He sits up straight.
‘I’m sorry to hear that, but please know this is a safe space and you can talk about it. Without judgement. And talking might help. Is that why you’re here, Rose? To feel stronger in yourself?’
I nod. I can barely speak for fear I’ll crumble.
‘I don’t really know why I’m here. I don’t know where to start, and I’ve no idea how to move on. I know itlookslike I have moved on to everyone, but inside I keep slipping back to the start again. It’s like two steps forward and one back. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I didn’t mean to tell you any of this.’
And now I’m sobbing like a baby, heavy, choking tears that make it hard to breathe.
‘Come here, Rose,’ he whispers. ‘It’s going to be OK. You’re going to be OK.’
He holds out his hand and quietly takes me in towards him where we sit until my tears subside, holding each other by the fire with George snoozing on the sofa. There is so much going through my head right now. In a way I dreamed this might happen – earlier when we were walking so closely, andlast night when we watched the stars. I’ve yearned for him to hold me properly and now here we are, yet it doesn’t feel real.
I can hear his heartbeat in his chest. I can feel his breath in my hair. I grip my hands tighter around his waist, the softness of his T-shirt so soothing, and the brief smooth touch of his skin enough to make my own heart skip a beat. I promise myself I’ll stop in just a few seconds. He isn’t mine. He may not be married, but I get the sense that he isn’t mine.
We lean into each other in blissful silence, the heat of the fire so soothing it could easily make me fall asleep in seconds if I let it. But I can’t.
So I break away slowly, wiping my tears with the back of my hand, and I do my best to shake myself out of my pity party.
I shouldn’t have let myself go like that, but there’s something about Charlie that feels so familiar and safe. In his company I don’t have to try to be something I’m not. I don’t have to be Rose the ambitious businesswoman or Rose the life and soul of the party, when it’s the last thing I want to be sometimes.
With Charlie, I am just me, like I’ve pressed the reset button and it’s slowly kicking into action at last. Or is that just me being idealistic in my grieving, susceptible state of mind?
‘Maybe you should get some sleep. It’s been a long night,’ Charlie says to me as he stands up by the fire. ‘You’re a good person, Rose. Maybe don’t give yourself such a hard time, eh?’
‘Thank you.’
‘Use your time here to reflect and heal,’ he continues gently. ‘And if you ever feel like talking about it, I’m here. No more notes or messages. We can talk. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.’
I stand up too, clutching the mug in my hands for support after letting my guard down to this virtual stranger.
