Page 41 of The Moment I Met You
As usual, the lift is crowded, and we ride down to the lobby amid a buzz of excited chatter – Spanish always seems to sound excited, somehow – and a cloud of aromas: perfume, cologne, medicines, disinfectant, coffee, cigarette smoke, sugar. En masse, we spill out into the lobby, the nurses’ pink shoes squeaking on the floor.
Outside, the sun looks brutal. Outside is where he has to go next. That is where he will drag his little bag on wheels, and hoist himself and his big boot and his crutches into one of the waiting cars at the taxi rank.
Outside is where we will say our final goodbye, and where he will begin his journey to the airport. Where he will check in, and wait to board, and spend hours flying away from me. Leaving me here, alone.
I know, of course, that technically I am not alone. Technically I have Harry here – Harry, my fiancé. As well as his parents, and my mum via the phone, and the nurses and doctors I am friendly with.
Technically, I am not alone – but I know that as soon as he goes, I will still feel that way. That night we first met, when we sat and sipped wine and talked as though we weren’t strangers, I felt as though we were the only people in the world. As though we had created our own little bubble.
Without him, I feel as though I could be surrounded by people and still feel alone.
He stops his slow trundle in the middle of the lobby, coming to a complete standstill. Alex is usually a very polite and courteous person, but today he seems to not care that he is inconveniencing people. He stops, and the crowds are forced to ebb and flow around him.
I stop too, looking up at him and frowning, confused. I’m propelled closer towards him by the push and shove, and he places a hand on my waist to steady me. He keeps it there, and I feel the gentle pressure of his fingers.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask. ‘Is your ankle hurting you?’
‘My ankle is fine,’ he says. ‘But I’m not okay.’
He looks determined, and serious, and absolutely beautiful. I look up at him, with my puffy eyes and my fear, and let go of the suitcase. It falls to the floor with a thud.
‘Come with me,’ he says simply. ‘Come to Sweden. Or I’ll go to the UK. Or we can go anywhere you want – the two of us.’
I open my mouth slightly, and he adds quickly, ‘Don’t say no. Just listen for a minute, and then I’ll go back to pretending. We both can, if that’s what you really want.’
We stand there, him with one working leg, me with one working arm, buffeted and battered by a shared experience that has changed us, changed our lives. We have saved each other over and over again, and I wonder where our story might lead, if it was allowed to lead anywhere at all.
‘I know you said yes to Harry, but I think you made the wrong choice. I don’t care how bad a person this makes me – but leave him. Come with me. We can travel the world, have adventures, go up into those hills – watch the sun set together in a different place every night.
‘We can talk and laugh and cry and we can just … be free. Neither of us knows what happens next in life. Neither of us can say with certainty what we want or where we might end up – but I know how I feel about you, Elena. No, don’t look away.’
He gently takes hold of my chin, and turns my face up towards his. I feel the sting of tears, which seems to be my default setting today.
‘I want to cry too,’ he says. ‘I want to cry because I don’t want to leave you here. I don’t want to go home, or go anywhere without you. I can’t imagine the shape of my life without you to share it with. I am falling in love with you, Elena … no, not falling. I’ve already fallen.
‘I know it’s only been weeks. I know you’re technically engaged to another man. I know this is the most out-of-character thing I’ve ever done in my life – but I never expected to feel like this again. And I think you feel the same. We have something here, something I never thought I’d experience again – I’ve been trying to talk myself out of it, persuade myself it’s just an infatuation, that it will pass … but it won’t, and I don’t even want it to. Come with me.’
It is a wonderful thing to hear, and a terrible thing to hear. It is everything I want, and nothing I can have. I have said yes to Harry. I have made a commitment to him, and he deserves my loyalty at this time when he needs me most. Even if I thought perhaps I could talk to him more rationally about it once the cameras were gone, his excitement, the way looking forward to a wedding has lifted him, the way his parents are already planning it with him, ended that. I have said yes, and I must mean yes.
I reach up, place my hand on the side of Alex’s face, my fingers tracing his cheekbone, stroking up into his hair. It is a light and gentle touch, but it feels intimate, magical. He leans into it, and pulls me closer to him, wrapping his arms around me, dropping his crutches to the floor.
My head falls against his chest, and I feel the form of him beneath the soft fabric of his T-shirt. I want to touch him. I want to stay here, in his arms. I want to hold on and never let go.
I look up, force myself to meet the blue of his eyes, and say, ‘Alex … I’m so sorry, but I just can’t. He needs me too much. He loves me, and part of me still loves him. I can’t leave him now.’
He nods sadly, as though that was exactly the answer he was expecting. He pulls me to him again and buries his face in my hair. His fingers move to my face, one palm either side, holding me steady as we look at each other for what might be the last time.
He leans down, kisses me, my arm clutched around his waist.
I should push him away. I should tell him to stop. I should turn around and leave.
I should – but I can’t. I can’t because it is the best kiss of my entire life, and the real world falls away from us. Only we are left, tangled up in our own desire, in our own need. In our own love.
I place my hand on his chest. Push, with the little resolve I have left.
‘Go now,’ I say, forcing some space between us. ‘Please. This hurts too much.’
‘I know. My flight doesn’t leave for another three hours. If you change your mind, I’ll be watching the sunset from the airport …’
