Page 55 of Swiping Right (and other disasters)

“And what about me? Or was that just a passing thing for you?”

“No, Seymour, God, no. You’re incredible. I’m so glad I met you. I’m just a bit thrown right now. I need a bit of time to think and work out how the heck I deal with all of this.”

“You need time to think,” said Seymour, more to herself than to Kiera. “Well, I guess that’s what you’ve got.” She looked at Kiera, not unkindly, but with tears in her eyes. She turned and walked away.

Kiera watched her go, unable to work out what to do next. She started to cry, and began to think she might not stop. How had her life changed so dramatically in the space of twenty-four hours? And why was it that every time something like this happened to her, Chrissie was always at the centre of it?

Chapter Forty-One

Kiera had loved Chrissie from the first moment they’d met, all those years ago. She tried to be cool and not give it away, but the truth was, it was written all over her face. Chrissie wasn’t far behind her, and they had rapidly become inseparable. They’d been together for several years by the time they got married, and everyone teased them for waiting so long to finally make it legal. They’d been married for four years when Kiera moved out.

Having Chrissie in the flat was strange in some ways, but in others, it was almost normal. After spending almost a decade together, they had a familiarity, in-jokes that resurfaced. Chrissie knew how Kiera liked her tea. Kiera knew Chrissie liked her toast cremated. There was a comfort in it. But perhaps not joy. Chrissie would sleep on the sofa at night and then fold away the blankets and pillows in the morning. There was a routine.

Chrissie had been put in touch with an organisation that supported cult survivors and was slowly beginning to think about rebuilding her life. It was hard seeing Chrissie struggle with everyday tasks like shopping or going to a café. Although, of course, they never went to Seymour’s café.

Six weeks later, Chrissie had worked her way up to being able to leave the flat alone, thanks to the faithful support of Kiera and of the charitable organisation. It was that first time Kiera had been alone in the flat since Chrissie had arrived, and she suddenly realised she was lonely. Somehow, in the course of reintegrating Chrissie into regular society, she had cut herself off from her own friends. She had met Lou a couple of times for coffee, but it was obvious that Lou thought she shouldn’t have let Chrissie live with her again, and their conversation was stilted.

Kiera found herself remembering the vows she had made all those years ago, to love in sickness and health. She’d promised Chrissie she would be there for her. Could they really get all that back?

She picked up her phone to find a facetious message from Clodagh on it.

Clodagh: “How’s wedded bliss?”

Kiera: “Not wedded, not bliss. Just, you know, sorting things out.”

Clodagh: “Who are you sorting out? Her or you?”

Kiera started typing and then stopped, no doubt infuriating Clodagh with flashing dots of suspense. She sighed.

Kiera: “Her need is greater than mine.” Even as she pressed send, she knew it was a feeble response.

Clodagh: “Bollocks, is it.” Flashing dots. “You around this evening? I haven’t seen you in weeks. We’re going out.”

Kiera sighed. This felt a bit like an intervention.

Maybe she needed one.

Kiera: “Ok.”

They met in town, Kiera grateful for the distance from Kings Heath. They found a bar on the canal in Brindley Place and ordered drinks.

“Well, can I be honest?” said Clodagh.

“You usually are,” replied Kiera with a half-smile.

“You look miserable.” Clodagh took a swig from her drink. “Have you even called Seymour?”

“I told you, I need time. And that’s what I told her.”

“Time for what? To decide whether to remarry your cheating, thieving ex? Or to be brave enough to apologise for being a prat and running out on Seymour?”

Clodagh had a peculiar way of cutting to the truth of the matter. Kiera was torn between a promise she had made to Chrissie many years before, and the possibility of something new and different with Seymour.

“Chrissie thinks we could work if we tried again,” said Kiera. “She said it was all her fault and because of all the cult stuff. She said she’ll wait as long as I need, but that she loves me and wants to be with me.”

“And what do you want?”

The question scared Kiera. What did she want?

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