He crosses his arms and looks away. ‘Great.’
‘I didn’t think of you in that way, but I wouldn’t have slept with just anyone. I felt safe with you, but beyond that, I didn’t plan it. It was an impulsive decision, an attempt to move on. I thought you didn’t get emotionally attached. I thought it was just sex for you… with anyone.’
‘You didn’t think of me that way?’ He holds my gaze a moment, then looks away.
‘I didn’t think you thought ofmethat way! All those girls you were seeing…’
‘I never said I was amonk. But I’ve never been serious with anyone. You know that. You and Miranda took the piss out of me saying I’d never been in love – heart of ice and all that. But I wasn’t interested in anyone else. It was always you.’
A torrent of emotion washes over me. Relief that my suspicions were correct, guilt over how lonely he must have been in those empty relationships, and a desperate longing for what could have been. ‘If we’d got together then, it wouldn’t have worked out.’
A flicker of his eyebrows tells me he doesn’t disagree.
‘You’re right,’ I add. ‘I wasn’t ready. For a long time. But that’s what I’m trying to tell you… I really believe I’m ready now.’
‘But you’ve only known this guy for five minutes––’
‘I’m not talking about him! Listen to me!’
He rubs his brow.
‘After Will,’ I say, ‘I was too sad to contemplate being with anyone else. I didn’t think I could be happy, so how could I make anyone else happy? But now, I think… I could make you happy.’
He stares at me. ‘Me?’
‘I think so. I think we could be happy now.’
‘Don’t play with me, Emily.’ He looks so vulnerable, like a little boy. How could I ever have thought he was emotionally detached?
I shake my head. ‘I’m not.’
He leans across the table; I meet him in the middle, and our lips touch. We’ve kissed before, but not like this. He stands up and pulls me close; his arms encircle me. All the turmoil of the last twenty-four hours ebbs away, and it’s being replaced by… relief? Joy? My chest is full.
He breaks away, a deep frown creases his forehead, and my anxiety is back in a flash.
‘What is it?’ I ask.
‘I need to tellyousomething,’ he says. ‘I can’t have this hanging over us.’ He looks like he’s taking a run-up to a hurdle.
‘What?’
He exhales. ‘Will came to see me a few days before he died.’
My heart stops beating.
‘He gave me a note to give to you because you weren’t taking his calls. Em, I’m so sorry, I didn’t give you the note.’
This hits me like a freight train. ‘Why not? What did it say?’
‘Jesus,’ he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘I’m sorry, Em, I burned it. I didn’t know he would…’
‘Scott,’ I say, trying to keep my voice level, ‘tell me what the note said.’
‘I can tell you exactly what it said because I think about it every single day.’
I glare at him. If he doesn’t tell me, I’ll scream.
‘Will wanted to tell you your friend was in hospital – the drummer, Reu. He had an overdose and was in a coma.’ He’s talking so fast I can hardly keep up. ‘I didn’t believe him. I thought he was exaggerating or making it up to get you totalk to him. He was being weird, hanging around outside, and then he broke into the flat. I thought they were junkies. I was trying to protect you. I shouldn’t have made that decision for you, but I did, and I’m sorry. Truly sorry––’