‘That was. . .’
‘I know,’ he says, still trying to catch his breath.
He wraps his arms around me, scooping me off him and onto the bed, before enveloping me from behind. I’m safe in his hold. Trapped in a blanket of his warmth as he slowly traces patterns on my arms.
It’s silent for a moment. My mind whirrs as I start to process what we’ve just done, what he’s just said, what we’ve both beenwaiting for.
‘I meant what I said, you know,’ he murmurs into my ear. ‘I’ve wanted to do that for a very, very long time.’
‘I know. Me too.’ I bring his arms closer in.
‘So, what’s stopped us? Stupidity?’ he asks before yawning.
He nuzzles my neck as he does. It’s subconscious. On instinct.
I scoff. ‘Stupidity? Maybe you, but could never be me. . .’ I smile with pride as he laughs heartily in response.
‘I’m serious, Maddy. This issomething. Something we should have done so many years ago.’
His voice is deep and stern. The mood shifting as the patterns stop swirling and he grips on to me tighter.
‘Didn’t you ever think about us?’ he asks.
The butterflies are different now. Elation surpassed by trepidation. This is brand-new territory, with far shakier ground. So much further to fall, even with the smallest misstep.
‘I think about you.’ His voice slurs slightly, drowsiness taking over as his arms grow heavier around me. ‘I’ve always thought about you and how much I regret not telling you that night. . .’
His words fade into a deep, unconscious sigh. I sigh too, with relief, as my stomach starts to steady. The words play in my mind as I drift off to sleep, my stomach skipping on the same loop.
Nudge 29
The Safe Space
Iwake up the next morning and reach over to feel an empty space where Aiden lay the night before. My heart stills, breath catching as I rub it again just to check, as if his body will suddenly materialise out of thin air.
It wasn’t a dream, it couldn’t be.
Although a dream would be better than a reality where he woke up and left in regret. I turn over and hear a crackle. A small page from his journal lies on the pillow beside me.
This is what they do in the movies right? To let you know it wasn’t a dream?
Breakfast downstairs when you’re ready xx
I rush to shower, brush my teeth and begin to rummage through my bag. If I knew how this weekend would go, I would have packed way cuter clothes. And maybe that bra I have that actually makes me look like I have cleavage. But, unfortunately, I’m stuck with the result of a last-minute, tear-filled, broken-hearted rampage through my room. It’s nothing but sweats, baggy jumpers, and old ratty leggings, the complete antithesis of effortlessly sexy.
As I stroll down the stairs, clad in tiny sweat shorts and an oversized off-the-shoulder sweatshirt from my uni days, I cansee him clanging about in the kitchen, spatula doubling as a microphone as he sings along to his playlist.
There’s a deep warmth to his smile as he catches me watching him from the door. He beckons me over, eyes following my every step towards him.
‘What you making?’ I ask, immediately inspecting his work.
A chocolate-chip pancake sizzles quietly in the pan, the bowl of mixture next to it on the counter.
‘There’s more in the oven. Here.’ He reaches under the stove, emerging with a stack ready to go. ‘I didn’t know what time you’d be up, so I had to keep them warm.’
‘You cook?’ I ask.
‘I’m a man of many talents,’ he says. ‘There were a few years where my sister refused to eat anything that wasn’t accompanied by a stack of pancakes. I’ve perfected the recipe.’
