Page 54 of Swim To Me

Swigging down the rest of my too hot coffee, I wash my cup out in the sink, noticing the picture of Delilah and her sister printed on the side. Cheeks squashed together, arms wrapped round other another – they look happy.

It’s one of the very few personal pictures Delilah has lying round, each of them only containing herself, or Aurelia and a couples of female friends here and there.

None containing a smiling Mum or Dad figure.

In the bathroom, I pick the clean toothbrush I used yesterday out from the designated pot, noticing it’s spot beside Delilah’s electrical toothbrush, before brushing, rinsing and then heading back into Delilah’s bedroom to retrieve my shirt.

She’s attempting to secure a gold bracelet on her slim wrist when I walk in and by the mutterings under her breath, failing.

The heat from Delilah’s gaze is palpable when I reach her, taking a hold of the hook and eye clasp of her bracelet, threading it with ease. “There you go, gorgeous.”

“Thank you, Grey.”

I tear myself away first, hating myself for it, but retrieving the puddle that is my shirt from the floor.

Crossing her floor, Delilah slips her feet into a black pair of heels, boosting her height while glancing at herself in her floor length mirror to fix the collar of her blouse, wipe away a speck ofsomething under her eye, check the security of the clip holding her hair out of her face.

When she spots me looking at her, she smiles softly, lips closed, not as bright, not as open as she has been with me this weekend.

The mask Delilah holds tight, the one she wears like a shield, is back.

I follow her into the hallway once she’s ready for work, trailing in her waft of perfume. Her handbag sits threaded over her forearm, manuscripts poking out of the top, her phone and keys clutched in one hand, a battered book in the other.

We stop at the door to allow me to slip on my own shoes, double checking the shape of my wallet in my back pocket.

“Here.” Delilah holds the book out for me, the spine ripped in some places, a couple of the papers warped with water damage. It’s the book I’d been reading while Delilah showered, her favourite book, the one about the five men and their one woman.

I take the book in my hand, a zip of heat radiating through me as Delilah and I as our fingertips touch. “What’s this for?”

“Read it,” she says, peering up at me. “You can give it back to me at my swimming lesson on Wednesday.”

“You’re going to show up on Wednesday?”

Delilah nods. “I’ll be there.”

“Good.” It’s all I can think of to say, because everything else I want to say to Delilah, everything else is… I don’t even fucking know what it is.

I stay silent while Delilah locks up her apartment, throwing her keys into her bag with a jangle and then heading towards the flight of stairs.

Outside, the streets of London are shining with a blinding, early morning sun. Swarms of people dressed in their professional attire, heads down, on their mission to get to work on time, crowd the pavement.

I thank God, I’m not one of them.

Beside the entrance to her building, Delilah squints her eyes against the watery sunlight, hovering her palm above her eyebrows so she can see me better. She opens her mouth, tongue darting out to wet them and I have no clue what she’s going to say, I don’t even know what I’mhopingshe’ll say, but then the words fall from her lips.

“Goodbye, Grey.”

That space inside my heart pings, like the whip of an elastic band zipping across my skin.

I swallow, gripping the book in my hand all that tighter. I need to get home, shower, find a fresh pair of clothes and then submerge myself under the water until I know what the fuck to do.

Somehow, I manage to keep my tone steady. “See you on Wednesday, Delilah.”

She dips her chin in agreement, and before I can prepare myself, leans up on her tiptoes to hug me, placing a final soft peck to my lips and then turns on her heel, walking in the opposite direction to the way I’ll be going.

Chapter 13

Grey

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