Page 59 of Swiping Right (and other disasters)

“It’s never too late,” said Kiera, a touch louder.

“Better, but still not good enough. Here, I’ll show you how it’s done.” Kiera covered her eyes as Clodagh stood up, waved her arms in the air and raised her voice.

“IT’S NEVER TOO LATE!” she bellowed.

Heads turned towards them, and Kiera felt herself blush. She would be the talk of the hospital for the rest of the day. Charlie would have a field day.

“Oh for goodness sake,” she said, getting to her feet, “it’s never too bloody late!”

“Thank you,” said Clodagh. “Now, how do you plan to get her back?”

“It’s my first day back at work, you’ve already got me shouting across a busy canteen, and now you’re pushing me into grand romantic gestures. Give me a break!”

“Yes,” said Clodagh, “but you’re smiling. It doesn’t need to be a grand gesture. But you do need to see her, to talk to her.”

“Yeah. She invited me for an affogato.”

“What? Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“Well,” said Kiera, passing her phone across the table, “if you read it, you’ll see that she makes a point of saying it didn’t work out between us.”

Clodagh took the phone and frowned. “Well, at the very least you need to put the record straight. You never know, she might be testing the waters, hoping you’ll clear everything up.”

“Maybe.”

“But don’t let her think you don’t care about her and you’re not interested, when clearly you are a bit smitten.”

Clodagh’s words whirled round Kiera’s head for the rest of the day. She was thinking more clearly now than she had done in weeks. Every time she thought of Seymour, she felt her stomach dance, and then drop when she remembered what had happened between them. She thought of the wisps of hair that would fall from Seymour’s messy bun, she thought of her warm and capable hands, her sparkling green eyes.

Maybe it was over between them. But maybe it wasn’t. And Kiera knew she had to find out for sure. It wasn’t because she needed Seymour. It was because she wanted Seymour, and she wanted her to know.

Chapter Forty-Five

The closed sign was up on the door of the café when Kiera arrived. The chairs were on the tables, and she checked her watch again. This was the time that Seymour had said, wasn’t it? She gave the door a gentle push and it opened. She tentatively stepped inside. She could smell the disinfectant that told her the end-of-the-day clean had already taken place.

“Hello?” she said quietly, worried she’d got the time wrong.

“Hi,” came a muffled voice. “Sorry, just sorting the fridge for tomorrow.” Seymour’s head popped up from behind the counter. “Hi,” she said, frozen for a moment as her eyes met Kiera’s.

“Hi,” replied Kiera, smiling. It had been too long since she’d seen Seymour, and she was struck all over again by how beautiful her arms were, how alive her eyes seemed.

“Can I try a new affogato on you?” asked Seymour, looking away and busying herself with the espresso machine. She seemed nervous.

“Of course,” said Kiera, taking a seat at the counter, just as she’d done all those months ago. While Seymour wasn’t looking at her, she took the opportunity to say what she needed to say. “Thank you for your message. After everything that happened, it was really kind of you to get in touch.”

“Well, I’m not an arsehole,” said Seymour, throwing a grin over her shoulder.

“No, but perhaps I was, a bit, unintentionally,” said Kiera, plonking her elbows onto the counter. Seymour carried on with her coffee-making without interrupting. “I can totally see that what I did was really hurtful to you. I really liked you. I guess it was just a weird day and I had unfinished business with Chrissie. I couldn’t leave her in that situation, but I can see now that instead of leaving her, I left you. I’m really sorry. I always will be.”

“Here you go,” said Seymour, turning and putting down a cup with ice cream and coffee for each of them. “My new speciality is adding hazelnut sauce as well as caramel. What do you think?”

Kiera looked across the counter at Seymour. Her eyes were unreadable. She looked back down at the dish in front of her and picked up a spoon.

“Wow,” said Kiera, “that is really delicious. Totally indulgent, but a really perfect affogato. Brava!”

“Thank you,” replied Seymour, looking pleased with herself. “And thanks. For saying sorry.” She reached up to rub the back of her neck. “I guess I just thought that everything with Chrissie was over. I was a bit taken aback to find that it wasn’t.”

“Well, it was over. And it is.” Kiera focused her eyes on Seymour’s, trying to say more without speaking.

---