Page 63 of The Rescue

“Mo be–” He tries to say, but I hold my hand up, cutting him off.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

I don’t want to relive last night, I’ll cry again if we keep talking about it. His sad tormented face was all I could see when I closed my eyes. He steps in closer to me now, our bodies are inches apart. I want him, but fuck I’m so mad at him.

“I’m sorry, I freaked out. I know it’s not an excuse. My head is messed up in so many ways. I wish I could explain to you the things that go through my mind,” he runs a large hand over his face.

“Explain to me, I want to understand.”

He looks away from me, biting his lip. Just when I think that he’s going to clam up and completely shut me out.

“It’s hard for me to be spontaneous and casual with people, especially women. I’m beyond terrified that if I allow myself to get slightly involved with someone then they will eventually end up leaving me. I can’t take someone leaving me again, so I’ve built up this wall and I keep people at arm’s length. In my early twenties, all I would do was casually date women, but then theyalways wanted more and I couldn’t give it to them, so then I eventually just stopped dating altogether.”

He still doesn’t look at me, but I know he wants to say more so I wait patiently for him to speak.

“But you came waltzing into my cafe with your bubbly, carefree personality and I craved something. I craved to be spontaneous and casual, but every time it came to it I choked up and got in my head. I’m sorry about last night. Fuck, you have no idea how much it killed me to see that look on your face, and to know I made you feel that way, I’ll never be able to apologise enough.” He finally looks at me now, and I see the remorse in his eyes.

“I tried to tell myself that one time with you would be enough, but one time with you will never be enough.” He reaches out and the pad of his thumb brushes my lip.

Fuck.

I’m very rarely lost for words, but he has me stunned to silence.

Then seeing you tonight looking so beautiful in my tartan colours, with thistles in your hair. Fuck, I wanted to get down on my knees in that hall and beg you for your forgiveness for being a fool. The pure jealousy I felt watching you dancing with Angus fucking Anderson. I couldn’t stand another second,” he sighs.

He places his large hand at the base of my neck, he has a firm but gentle grip on me. I’m trying my hardest to stay mad at him. But with every second that passes the anger dissolves and I finally understand why this has been so hard for him.

“Mo beag, I’m sorry.” He nudges me with his head.

“Rabbie,” I sigh.

I don’t know what to say, and I definitely don’t want to make a move. I’m too burnt from last night. I can’t take another rejection from him.

He interlocks his fingers with mine, his large hands make me feel safe. His head is still resting against mine. I let out a long sigh, and as if he can read my mind he keeps talking because I still don’t know what to say.

“I know. I’m fucked up in head. I’m scared that you’ll leave just like she did,” he nods his head towards the hall.

I saw his mum corner him as he was making his way over to me. I could see how uncomfortable he was talking to her. I want to ask him about it but this isn’t the right moment.

“You haven’t even given me a chance to stay,” I say softly.

He frowns at me, and I can see he’s thinking this over.

“You’ve told me that you hate small towns, and serious relationships.”

“Yes, but.”

“But, what?”

I sigh, this is all too serious. I have to remind myself that when someone who’s gone through something as traumatic as Rabbie has, I need to be a little bit more compassionate and understanding to his thought process. I know he isn’t exactly asking for a serious relationship, but he’s asking for reassurance.

“But, whatever happened to just seeing where things go? I wouldneverleave you the way she did. If things don’t work out, then at least we can say we had a good time trying. I don’t want to put all my scones in one basket before we’ve seen each other naked.” I let out a shaky laugh.

The signature Rabbie smile finally reappears, and he lets out a loud laugh. His shoulders relax, and I feel the stress and anxiety melt away.

“Your little pyjamas leave little to the imagination about what you’d look like naked,” he smiles as he bites down on his lip.

“Oh yeah? Well neither does seeing you in a towel,” I smile back.

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