Page 57 of Meet Me in Berlin

Now, she’s talking about her brother and his family, and I’m listening but also not, because I’m mesmerised by her kind eyes, the tiny mole to the right of her nose, the freckle on her bottom lip, the soft lilt of her voice. And then I think how nice it is to be with someone who doesn’t stop mid-conversation to snap a photo of their meal and upload it to their socials or live stream their night out. It’s just great food, nice wine and good conversation about things that matter – family, friends and life.

Holly stops mid-sentence. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ Her face falls. ‘I’m talking too much, aren’t I? I’ve barely let you speak. I’m sorry. I’ve been alone since I left Melbourne and trying to talk German. It’s nice to speak to someone?—’

I hold up a hand. ‘Oh, no. I’ve talked loads. Sorry. Um, I…’ Fuck, Casey, just speak. ‘You’re really beautiful,’ I blurt out, heat racing up my neck. ‘More than I remember,’ I add quietly.

She looks down, but not before I catch the delight in her eyes and a quietly confident smile. It’s the type of look that tells me she’s heard that compliment before and a shard of jealousy cuts right through me, like I have any right to be jealous.

‘You, too,’ she says, meeting my gaze. ‘More beautiful with age. And your eyes…’ She glances away. ‘God, I can barely look at them.’

My stomach knots. This is not good. Not good at all.

‘Should we go for a walk or something?’ she asks.

I nod, under her spell.

Outside, the temperature has dropped further, and we slip on our jackets. It’s busier now, the restaurants and bars more lively. We cross the road and walk along the path that runs parallel to the river. Holly slips her hand in mine, and I look down in surprise at our entwined fingers. Her palm is warm and my pulse quickens at the sensation of her skin against mine.

‘Is this okay?’ She asks the question with such tenderness that I almost crumble.

I gently squeeze her hand. ‘Yeah.’

We walk along the river in silence, sneaking disbelieving glances at each other, and stop when we reach a quieter area.

I lean against the rail and look out over the water at the buildings opposite that shimmer with blue lights. ‘Such a nice spot.’

Holly stands close to me – so close that I could dip my head and brush my lips against her delicate neck.

‘It really is,’ she says, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small camera. ‘Sorry, I have to take a photo of this.’

‘You carry a camera everywhere?’

‘Pretty much. My phone takes decent photos but the night mode is better on this and it’s small enough to carry around.’ She takes a few snaps and shows me the display.

I glance at the image, but I’m distracted by her smell – fresh shampoo and musk. A shiver passes through me. ‘Yeah. That’s a great shot.’ My voice is raspy, and I clear my throat.

She slips the camera back into her bag and faces me. She’s inches away and I can almost taste her lips. ‘Where did you go that day?’ she asks. ‘Why didn’t you return any of my calls or messages?’

And there it is. The question that’s been hanging between us since we ran into each other this afternoon. I sigh heavily, almost relieved. ‘I went home.’

‘Home? As in, back to London?’

I nod.

Her brow crinkles. ‘Okay. Why? And why not just tell me that?’

I’m silent for a few seconds while I work out the best way to articulate myself. ‘I was really struggling here. It was the first time I’d been away from my family and I missed them so much. I didn’t gel that well with the people in my course, and apart from absorbing myself in the art scene, I spent most of my time with my aunty and uncle. I was about to go home when I met you, and you gave me a reason to stay. But I fell for you so hard and so fast, it messed with my head.’

I pause to give her space to reply, but she just watches me with questioning eyes, so I continue. ‘Before we met up that day in the park, I’d been on the phone to Mum, saying I felt like I was drowning and couldn’t cope, then that afternoon you mentioned leaving Australia and your university for me. You were so determined?—’

Her face falls. ‘So it was what I said that day.’

I grab her hand. ‘No. That’s not what I’m trying to say. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine for not coping. I could’ve opened up to you or talked to my family about it, but I didn’t understand it at the time. I was so in awe of you, how you were so sure about things, about us, and I couldn’t measure up to that. I couldn’t see how I could ever be that person you thought I was, so I took myself away, thinking it would be the best for both of us.’

‘I wasn’t sure about us, Casey. All I was sure about was that you were special and I wanted to see where that could go. That’s all.’

I nod. ‘I worked that out after a while. Once I felt better and had time to process everything. I hated myself for doing that to you.’ I shake my head. ‘Fuck. My mum gave me the biggest bollocking when I told her.’

Her lips twitch at that comment.

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