Page 106 of One Night With You

‘I don’t regret any of it,’ I say, our pace slowed, now. Our hands brush just enough to not be accidental, but I don’t know whose fault it is. I feel the same about her as I ever have done. And everything she’s saying makes me wonder if I’m not alone in that.

‘Am I imagining what’s happening here?’ I say, finally.

She steals a look at me. She stops walking. She shakes her head. ‘No,’ she says.

‘Ruby,’ I start. I take a step towards her.

She opens her mouth to speak but changes her mind.

‘Say it,’ I implore. ‘Say it because I’m about ten seconds away from kissing you and I need to know how much of a bad idea that might be.’

‘Nic. I honestly don’t think the reasons I gave you back then hold up. I don’t care that you have a child – I think … not that it was an excuse. I meant it at the time. I was so traumatised by whatever came before that I wasn’t ready to believe this would work. But I think about you. And I was excited to see you. And I knew when I asked you if you wanted to go for a walk that I was hoping you’d kiss me. In four years nobody has even come close to you. I’m not sure that they ever will …’

‘I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you walk into the church,’ I tell her.

‘I’ve missed you,’ she says. ‘I don’t want to miss you anymore.’

I step towards her, reaching for her wrist so I can tug her towards me. She comes willingly. I hold her face close to mine and she parts her lips as she looks at mine, like she’s wanted this. Like she’s hungry for it. I’m hungry forit too. I hold her head between my hands, my thumb caressing her cheek. She leans into my touch, closing her eyes and sighing deeply.

Our mouths meet, crashing into each other. It’s not gentle. It’s a furious, passionate, intoxicating kiss, where she’s pulling me into her and I’m pulling her into me.

‘Jesus,’ I say, coming up for air.

‘I’m filming in Manchester in September,’ she says. ‘I’m going to be around.’

‘Oh really?’ I say.

‘And not to be presumptuous, but …’

‘But we’re finally in the same place, at the same time, with the same attitude about how we were idiots for ever walking away?’

‘Pretty much,’ she says.

‘Let’s do it,’ I say. ‘Wide-open optimism first, okay? No excuses.’

‘None.’

‘No freak-outs.’

‘Zero.’

‘Just you, and me.’

‘And your daughter every other weekend?’

‘Exactly,’ I say. ‘I never for a second thought you’d be to a child what your stepmother was to you. For what it’s worth. You’re just not like that.’

‘We’re about to find out, aren’t we?’

‘I trust you,’ I say.

‘I trust you too.’

‘I’m going to kiss you again now,’ I say.

‘Let’s make up for lost time.’ She grins.

And so there, underneath the maple tree behind the churchyard where JP has just been buried, we kiss again likeit was always going to be this way. Like it was always leading up to this, here, now, finally. I breathe her in and let the knowledge wash over me that this time, now, after everything, the timing might just be – possibly, maybe – right.

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