Page 143 of Off the Pitch

For the first time in a long time, I saw her for who she truly was—not my enemy, not someone who’d come here to cause me pain—just another person who was scared and vulnerable.

“I don’t, not really, but you have to believe it.” I smiled softly. “I thought that too. I felt like my whole life was falling apart. I’d lost you. I’d lost football. I didn’t think it could get any worse, and somehow I didn’t think it could get better either. And then I met Kit. I didn’t go looking for him, but he still found me, and he was like a ray of sunshine through stormy clouds. I didn’t mean to fall in love with him, but I did. And it’ll happen for you too. You just have to give it time. One day you’re going to meet someone who will love you the way I never could, and you will be happy again.”

“You really think so?”

“I really do.” I squeezed her hands again and stood, pulling her into a hug. “And you still have your gallery. I don’t think that counts as nothing since I know it was just named as one of the world’s top fifty small galleries. That’s an impressive achievement.”

“That’s true,” she said quietly into my shoulder.

For the first time in a long time there seemed to be an easy peace between us, and I wondered whether we should have been that open with each other a long time ago.

“I should go,” Hélène said finally, stepping back and trying to smile. “I’ve done enough damage here.” She walked across the room, collected her handbag, and placed a set of silver keys on the table before giving me a final look. “If Kit’s that important to you, you should tell him. Don’t make the same mistakes I did and take the person you love for granted. If you love him, tell him. Tell him every single day. And be happy, Hugo. For me.”

“I will,” I said.

She nodded, and then frowned, gesturing to a canvas that was leaning against the spare room door. “Who painted that?”

It was one of Kit’s Scottish paintings, with rolling crags and peaks under a purple sky, little sheep dotting the landscape like wisps of cloud. “Kit did, when we were in Scotland the other week.”

Hélène nodded but said nothing, then gave me another smile and a nod. “Go find your man.”

And then she was gone, and this time it felt more final than before, as if the door between us had finally closed.

Chapter Twenty-Four

KitWhat is a suitable gift to get someone you’re in a relationship with?

DavidWell there’s the usual things: flowers, chocolates, promises you don’t intend to keep

KitDid you just quoteBeauty and the Beastat me instead of being helpful?

DavidMaybe =P

KitHow rude! And after all those times I left you and Christian alone to watch movies without even asking to share the snacks I KNOW you had!

Kit

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Fuck, I was an idiot.

But I wasn’t sure if I was an idiot for running away, or an idiot for believing things between Hugo and I would be easy, or an idiot for thinking that he would ever love me.

Okay, so the third one was probably a touch overly dramatic. And given Hugo’s shock at seeing Hélène sitting on his sofa, it was pretty obvious he hadn’t invited her. I wasn’t completely sure why she still had keys, but perhaps Hugo had given them to her in case of emergencies and such. Not that that made a lot of sense, but it was the best my poor befuddled brain could come up with.

I sighed, finally looking up and taking in my surroundings for the first time since I’d left Hugo’s. I was standing in front of a set of gates and behind them, up a short drive, sat a large but pretty house with a dark car parked in front of the blue front door.

Apparently, I’d come halfway across London on auto pilot because my feet had brought me to David.

I wondered whether I’d be disturbing them if I knocked, remembering what David had said about what he wanted from Christian after the match. But I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and now that I was here, I had a burning desire for one of his giant hugs and to hear him tell me that it was going to be okay.

Whenever anything happened, big or small, David was always there for me, and right now, I needed that reassurance.

Punching in the code, I slid past the gate as it opened and trudged up the driveway to the front door. David was always telling me just to let myself in via the kitchen, but I had a sneaking suspicion it would be better to announce my presence.

I heard the doorbell ringing throughout the house as I pressed the little button, waiting on the doorstep like some kind of lost puppy.

A few minutes later, I heard the bolt sliding back and the turn of a key before Christian’s slightly disheveled face appeared around the door.

“Kit!” His shocked expression melted into a smile as soon as he saw me. “Everything okay?”

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