Page 71 of Swim To Me

Delilah nods, eyes searching my face as if she’ll find displeasure, or annoyance there. But she won’t.

“And that’s okay, gorgeous… I’ve had a really nice time today.”

She smiles, her whole face lighting up. “Me too, Grey.”

“Good.” I steal a kiss from her lips, lingering there, inhaling her perfume one last time. “Will you ring me when you’re ready?”

“Promise.”

Delilah’s promise rings in my ears the whole car ride home. I can still imagine her tucked up beside me, pressing into my body with her steady presence.

Hudson’s in the kitchen cooking up a storm when I close the front door behind me. The scent of chicken and soy sauce tickles my nostrils, causing my stomach to rumble even if I had only eaten about an hour and a half ago.

“Want a bowl?” he asks when he sees me.

“Please.”

Dishing up two bowls of chicken stir fry, we sit on the sofa, the latest football match playing quietly on the TV screen.

“So, how was it?”

I can’t hold back my grin. “Really good. I really like her.”

“And does she feel the same way?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Hudson nods, turning his attention back to the sport, while I spear a piece of chicken and chew thoughtfully. My date with Delilah went amazingly, better than I ever could have imagined, but there’s one thing she said that keeps playing on my mind, eating away at me.

“She told me why she doesn’t date.”

Hudson grunts in response, eyes still fixed on the football pitch.

“Her ex-boyfriend was a famous rugby player.” Hudson’s fork clatters against his bowl. Now I’ve got his attention. “He fucked her over big time, the press too. It still really bothers her.”

“The ex?”

“No, the whole media slash famous thing, I think.”

Hudson looks at me as if I’ve grown a second head. “Is it going to be a problem?”

I shrug.

“Have you told her?”

I shake my head.

“Grey, for fuck’s sake.”

“What?!” I throw my hands up, chicken stir fry turning to lead in my stomach. “How was I supposed to tell her after she told me about her ex? What was I supposed to say, oh by the way I’m really sorry he broke your heart, and the press ripped you to fucking shreds, but there’s a chance it could happen to you again if we develop a relationship together, because I’m sometimes still in the tabloids? Because of who I am… who I was?

“What is she going to say when I tell her I used to be professional swimmer? Hm? They thought I was headed to the fucking Olympics before I broke my foot and tore all my ligaments in that accident, and my pain was splashed all across the newspaper headlines for weeks on end afterwards. You think I should have dug the knife in a little further and told her that right then and there? Delilah would have run for the bloody hills and I can’t blame her.”

Hudson stares at me for a split second, and then nods. “Yeah, maybe not. But you’re going to have to tell her eventually if it keeps getting serious.”

I gulp in oxygen, my chest feeling tight and uncomfortable. I’m overthinking and this isn’t me. “I know. I’m gonna – I’m gonna go for a swim, I think. Clear my head.”

I’m already halfway out the door when he calls, “If I’m not awake by the time you get back, there’s some extra stir fry for you to take to work tomorrow.”

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