“Isn’t she living with you?” Seymour’s spoon was poised between her cup and her mouth.

“No. I told her to move out last week. She didn’t have anywhere to go when I found her, and I thought I owed her something, somehow. I’m not sure I really did. But she was only ever using my flat as a place to stay.” Kiera looked away from Seymour, still unable to read her. “I suspect she thought she might be able to get back together with me, but I told her no. In truth, I’m not sure she really thought we could work again. But she was a mess. And after a bit, so was I. We’re bad for each other.”

Kiera paused to lick a drip of ice cream from her cup. She kept her eyes down, on the counter, unable to bring herself to look back at Seymour, who was frozen in her seat. “My biggest regret is that I think you and I could have had a future. I know you don’t think that any more, and I don’t blame you, but do I need to tell you something. I need you to know that I know I made a mistake, that I was wrong not to prioritise you the way I should have. I’ve missed you so much.” She took a breath, waiting for Seymour to speak, but still she said nothing. “And the truth is, I was falling for you. I really felt like you could mean something to me. You already did. And perhaps it’s far too late. But just in case there’s the tiniest chance you might reconsider, I want you to know that I am here, and I want to be with you.” Silence. “But if this isn’t the right thing to say, or it really is too late, I’ll never mention it again.”

Finally, Kiera looked up, aware that she was pink and a bit sweaty. Seymour’s face was red.

“You didn’t want to get back together with her?” asked Seymour. Kiera shook her head. “And you were falling for me?” Seymour put down her cup and spoon.

“I still am,” said Kiera, feeling tears well up in her eyes. Tentatively, she reached her hand across the wide counter towards Seymour.

Seymour sighed, as if coming to a decision. “Lou said you weren’t with Chrissie when I saw her.” She slowly moved her hand towards Kiera’s, their fingers touching very lightly. Kiera sent up a silent thanks to Lou for having the presence of mind to say something. Seymour continued: “And you want to be with me?”

“I do,” said Kiera, wanting more than anything to kiss Seymour, but impeded by the counter and her own hesitancy and doubt.

“Hang on,” said Seymour. She walked around the back of the U-shaped counter and towards Kiera. “So, I need to tell you something too.” She stopped in front of Kiera, reaching to hold her hands. Kiera’s stomach dropped. Had Seymour met someone else? That old flame? Was she going to ask Kiera to leave? Was this actually the end?

“I’m listening,” said Kiera, desperate for good news.

“I’ve missed you so much. I fell for you the first time you met a date in here.”

Seymour wrapped her hands around Kiera’s, behind Kiera’s back, looked into her eyes and slowly leaned forward. Gently, her lips met Kiera’s, and in her kiss was all she had said and more. Kiera wrestled her hands back and put her arms around Seymour’s waist, placing her hands on the other woman’s back. Seymour pulled away for a moment. “And I want to be with you.”

Kiera’s face split into a giant smile. “You do?”

Seymour nodded, her grin as wide as Kiera’s, and leaned forward, kissing Kiera again. “I do, but perhaps before we go any further we should get out of the front window of the café.”

Kiera giggled and looked out, catching the eye of a teenage boy on a scooter who hurriedly pulled his hood over his face and sped away down the High Street.

Seymour took Kiera’s hand. She locked the front door and gently pulled Kiera up the stairs and into her flat. Wasting no time, they headed straight to the bedroom.

Seymour pushed Kiera softly onto the bed and then leaned over her, kissing her in a way that told Kiera how much she had missed her.

Seymour sighed, sat up slightly, and began to undo the buttons of Kiera’s shirt. “I know we only had that one night, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since,” she said.

Kiera nodded. “Me neither.” She reached up and pulled Seymour’s top over her head.

A few minutes later their clothes were strewn beside the bed, and Kiera had flipped Seymour onto her back. “This time,” she said, “I’m going to do it right.” Seymour put her hand around the back of Kiera’s neck and pulled her in for a scorching kiss. Kiera felt Seymour’s whole body relax as she dragged her hand up her thigh, slowly, teasingly. Soon she could feel for herself how turned on Seymour was, as she arched her back. She drew her hand back and forwards, slowly at first, but then faster, covering Seymour’s mouth with her own. She could feel her own response to Seymour, too, as the other woman turned her head and came to a climax that made Kiera cry with relief. She was grateful the café downstairs was empty.

“We really should eat,” said Seymour, looking at her watch a few hours later.

“I mean, we should probably sleep at some point, too,” replied Kiera with a giggle.

They were lying in twisted sheets across Seymour’s bed, almost spent. “Sleep is for the weak,” said Seymour. “I’m ordering takeout to rejuvenate my girlfriend.”

“Your girlfriend?” said Kiera, rising her eyebrows and smiling.

“If that’s what you want.”

“I really do,” said Kiera rolling back on top of Seymour. “And that takeout probably needs to wait a little longer.”

Epilogue

SIX MONTHS LATER

“Are you ready?” asked Seymour, looking at Kiera’s flushed face.

“I’ve been ready for months,” said Kiera, shifting from foot to foot.