Page 74 of Love and Other Paradoxes

“Please. Let me speak.” She took a breath. “I live my life wearing a mask. Most people never get to see behind it. But you—I let you see me, and then you walked away. Do you understand what that did to me?” Tears of fury shone in her eyes. “I’m supposed to be the one who decides when something’s over. I’m not supposed to be the one moping, and pining, and turning up at your door like a lost puppy.” She laughed, cracked and human. “I’m rather pissed off about it, actually.”

He wanted to tell her the truth, that seeing her real self was the closest he had come to falling in love with her. But he had broken this once before by rushing it, and he didn’t want to do it again. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For how I treated you. I should have given you a proper explanation. I just—I don’t think we’re ready.”

“Ready for what?” Her eyes widened in half-amused perplexity. “I’m not asking you to marry me, Joseph. Or to swear your eternal devotion. I’m asking you to be with me, here and now.”

Should he say yes? Was this how it could happen, in the new world he’d accidentally created? He was still caught in a spiralof consequence and second-guessing when she added, “I’ve left Crispin, if that makes a difference.”

He felt it like a tremor. Diana wasn’t supposed to leave Crispin. She was supposed to marry him. “Why?”

She shrugged. “Because you were right. I deserve better.”

He heard the echo of what Esi had said by the river. He was still measuring everything against the book, even after he’d shoved it under his bed and tried to forget about it. But this wasn’t the Diana from the book. This Diana was real, and she was here, and for some insane reason, she wanted to be with him.

He wasn’t sure. But maybe he wasn’t supposed to be sure. Real relationships weren’t written down ahead of time. You might look back and think you were always in love, but that could just be your future self telling a story. It might really have felt like this, a paralysis of indecision, a teetering between outcomes. The world where he told herno, not yet, and she walked away. The other world, this world, where he took her in his arms and kissed her.

Afterwards, he lay with her head resting on his chest, her fingers dancing lightly across his shoulder. “Let’s just stay here,” she said softly. “Pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”

He felt like he was watching from somewhere high above, a spectator on this moment. It made him feel like a voyeur. “I’d love to,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “But I have to make a plan for how not to fail my exams.”

She looked up at him reproachfully. “Really? You’re turning me down for philosophy?”

When she put it that way, it sounded insane. But he had already wasted enough time acting like his future was guaranteed. “I’m not the only one with finals,” he pointed out. “Don’t you need to revise?”

“What’s the point? I have one plan for my life, and it doesn’t rely on me getting a good degree. I’m not going to waste my time trying to be something I’m not.”

“But that’s not the only possible future,” he argued. “Why not have a backup plan?”

“Because that would mean part of me had already given up.” She propped herself on her elbow, looking at him earnestly. “This life I’m chasing, Joseph—it’s all or nothing. I’m not going to make any choice that takes me further away from it. I’ll choose my art. Every time.”

He felt like he was looking at her from the other side of a glass wall. He wanted to live in her world, where art was all that mattered, and everything else was subordinate to that one consuming purpose. But he suspected her world came with a hefty financial cushion from her parents if she didn’t turn out to be employable.

“Anyway, I can take a hint. I’ll leave you to your darling books.” She climbed over him and started getting dressed.

He sat up, feeling guilty. “Let me walk you out.” He threw his travel-worn clothes in the corner, put on whatever was at the top of his suitcase, and made a token effort to fix his hair.

In the mirror, Diana was looking at him with something like alarm. “What on earth are you wearing?”

He looked down at the little boats and trees decorating his front. “A jumper?”

She pulled a face. “It’s not very you.”

It was a stark reminder that for as long as she had known him, he had been pretending to be someone else. “Actually, it is,” he admitted sheepishly. “I was only wearing all that fancy stuff to try and impress you.”

She slid her arm into his as they descended the stairs. “I see. And now you’ve impressed me, that’s it? You’re just going to stop making an effort?”

Her tone was teasing. “Och, I don’t know,” he said with a smile. “Maybe I’ll buy another shirt.”

“A whole shirt,” she said, mock-amazed. “I’m a lucky girl.”

A wave of relieved fondness ran through him. Maybe this could work after all.

As they approached the gate, the Chapel clock was striking two. It reminded him of something, but he couldn’t nail down what, until he pulled the door open and saw Vera and a tour group waiting across the street.

Time travel hours. He swivelled, flattening himself against the door.

Diana looked at him curiously. “First you kick me out, now you’re not letting me leave?” He took her arm and marched her away from the gate. “Where are we going?”

“Back gate. It’s handier for Trinity.” It absolutely wasn’t. He would just have to hope Cambridge’s maze of streets was sufficiently confusing to obscure his lie.

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