Page 71 of The Christmas Express
I know I felt this was our fault, I know I suggested he and I should never have got together if it would have saved our group friendship. I remember him agreeing with me, but instead of being what I wanted to hear, I remember being crushed that he felt that way, wanting him to take it back. And I remember a long stretch where we said nothing, just listened to the rain, and then Luke told me that what we had was, in fact, nothing.
Now, it’s Christmas, and we’ve grown up, and apart, but his arms are back around me and it doesn’t feel like nothing, at least not to me.
‘Why did you say it?’ I ask him, over the music.
Luke’s hands move down over my arms, his head tilted down, his lips by my ear. I look at his eyelashes, willing his eyes to meet mine again. ‘I thought it was the only way you could be happy.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Our group of friends was everything to you, and seeing you so sad as it fractured . . . it killed me, Cali.’
I swallow down the emotions blocking my throat. It killed me, too.
Luke finally meets my eye and instinctively we move closer, like the other’s heart is our only source of warmth. Above him, the lights glow like the comfort of Christmas in the city.
‘Then what?’ The question leaves my lips and I see him glance down at them, like he’d be able to see the words in the space between us.
‘You were regretting what we’d done, and I regretted it too, because of how it made you feel. I acted like you weren’t as important to me as you really were. I thought I had to let you go for you to be happy.’
I extract an arm from under his and reach up, moving my hair, rubbing my face, and he looks back down. He seems tired, sad, lonely. ‘But that wasn’t your decision to make for me.’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’
My hand moves to his face and I force him to meet my eyes again. ‘Why didn’t you call me? When the group stayed fractured anyway? Why didn’t you come back for me?’
‘I got stuck in that moment in our lives. I don’t think I’ve ever really moved forward or grown up or done the right thing. I didn’t realise you were feeling the same. Especially after I saw you in London that day, and you looked so well and healthy and happy.’
‘You saw me for one second,’ I argue. How could he know any of that about me?
‘Maybe I just saw what I wanted to, then. I only wanted you to be happy, Cali. By that point I’d pushed you away and I didn’t want to make you sad again, ever.’
One of his hands runs through the end of my curls, causing tingles to journey up the back of my neck. I rest my elbow on his shoulder, and move my hand to his hair. ‘I’m sorry too,’ I whisper.
We’re the only two people on this train, frozen in time, the music is just for us, and everything and everyone and the past is melting away. Luke is focused on me, his lips parted, his nose brushes against mine, and I stroke my thumb on the side of his neck.
‘What do you want now?’ I ask him.
‘You,’ he breathes against me. ‘This. What about you?’
‘You,’ I answer.
‘But I want you to be happy.’ He swallows. ‘I think you already have a happy life, without me.’
‘Stop it,’ I say, shaking my head, increasing the space between us a little. ‘Don’t do this again, don’t you make the decision for me.’
‘Does he not make you happy?’
‘Who?’
‘Luke.’
For a second I’m thrown. Is he talking about himself in the third person all of a sudden? Is he actually sloshed? Oh God, he’s not even going to remember this in the morning, is he? I’m going to wake up in his bunk with him and he’ll be like, whoa, what are you doing here, stalker?
‘I don’t want to get in the way of you and your boyfriend if this is just, you know, the lights and the stars and Christmastime.’
Oh bloody hell, my ‘boyfriend’. And he has a girlfriend! I shake my head, and a small laugh escapes which I smother into his shoulder. ‘I have a confession. There is no Other Luke. I . . . I made him up.’ How embarrassing.
His chest vibrates with a chuckle, and his arms tighten around me. ‘Well, maybe your fake boyfriend could date my fake girlfriend?’
