Page 60 of A Midnight Kiss on Ever After Street
I take a deep breath. I don’t think I’ve ever felt worse than I do in this moment. I feel sick, but in a way, relieved too. We can’t avoid it any longer. I never knew how I was going to find the courage to confront this, and Ebony has catapulted us headfirst into it in her typically abrasive way. He deserves to know the truth, and I’ve been hiding it for too long.
‘It was me, Witt.’ I look up at him and then look away because I don’t want to see the hatred creep into his eyes. ‘It’s been me all along. I’m the mystery Cinderella you met at the ball.’ I keep my eyes on the floor, following the lines of the wooden planks. The world has stopped moving. I think all three of us have stopped breathing, frozen like statues, waiting for the inevitable explosion when he realises what I’m saying, and it feels like forever before someone takes a breath again.
‘Sadie.’ Witt takes the hand that’s still got his key in it and holds it between both of his. ‘Do you honestly think I don’t know that?’
‘What?’ My mouth falls open and I inhale in surprise and then choke on the air I’ve taken in. ‘Youknow?’
‘Of course I know. The mask might’ve hidden your face, but it didn’t hide your eyes. Your voice. The feel of your hand in mine. I knew from the moment you opened the door on that first morning.’
‘No you bloody well didn’t! You didn’t recognise me! You looked straight through me.’
He grunts and lifts a hand to pull awkwardly at the back of his neck. ‘All right, maybe not thatexactsecond, but not because of you – because of me. When I’m trying not to stutter, I’m inside my own head. I don’t see anything except the words I’m focusing on. I can look at people without seeing them because all I’m concentrating on is my next word, and that morning, I was so caught up in trying not to make a fool of myself that it took me a while to get outside my own head. When you snapped that it wasn’t all about me, it made me look at you,reallylook at you, and something sparked and I thought it was you then and there.’
I feel like something’s hit me in the chest. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’
‘Becauseyoudidn’t say anything. Because I didn’t think you knew it was me. And then I realised you must have known because whoelsewould have the shoe, and then the dress was there, returned, and you didn’t say anything, and I thought maybe I was mistaken, or you weren’t interested in seeing me again and were too polite to tell me, and then I said the wrong thing about only wanting to find you for your spin on the castle, which was horrible and I couldn’t blame you for not saying who you were, and then you suggested putting the dress in the window and trying to find her, and I went along with it because I convinced myself it wasn’t you, but I couldn’t tear myself away. Going through those emails was just a way to spend time with you – to prove to myself that I wasn’t imagining it.’
‘I was angry at you for not recognising me. I recognised you the moment I opened the door. The cleft in your chin, the dip above your upper lip, the size of your hands, the length of your arms, your smile. God, your smile.’ I meet his eyes and his lips tip into a half-smile. ‘And I couldn’t tell you. I wasn’t supposed to be at that ball.’
I’m well aware of Ebony listening in. If she hadn’t worked out that I went to the ball by now, this is the final nail in the coffin.
‘You could’ve trusted me. I would never have told anyone.’
‘Secrets like that have a habit of getting loose. It wasn’t about trustingyou, Witt. If anyone on Ever After Street found out, they’d hate me. If Ebony found out, I would’ve kissed goodbye to any hope of taking over The Cinderella Shop. I know I’ve said it before, but it couldn’t be all about you. I couldn’t throw away everything I’ve worked for because of a guy I’d spent a couple of hours with. It wasn’t a reflection on you – it’s just common sense.’
‘I know. You told me that. I accepted that.’
‘When have I told you that?’
‘On that very first morning in the shop, for a start. And many times since then. And I’m not stupid, I’ve understood the subtext. I’ve known when you were speaking to me, letting me know withoutreallyletting me know. And how many times have I said that I could wait or that she’d tell me when she was ready? I’ve tried to let you know that I understood without letting you know too.’
Ebony is strangely silent throughout this. She hasn’t left to give us privacy like anyone else might have, and I suspect that if I try to take Witt out the back, she’ll follow anyway.
And at the same time, nothing matters as much ashim. Him knowing. Him understanding. Him being the best human I’ve ever met.
‘Since then, it’s been like a little puzzle to put together. I don’t think you realise how often you’ve slipped up. How often you’ve let me know without intending to. The things you’ve said – about the mass boycott of the ball and about Ebony having a thing for midnight visits. The missing ticket. The rose I gave you that night is in a vase on your bedroom window ledge – I saw it when I carried those books upstairs. The other day, you told me I was right about this street being where the servant cottages once stood – only I never said that toyou. You’ve mentioned the theatre in the castle – the one I never showed toyou. That night at the ball, you wore your regular cherry-scented perfume. Every time I’ve got close to you, I’ve smelt the same scent I smelt that night.’
And I thought I was so good at keeping secrets. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this. That day he took the books upstairs and looked through to the bedroom window. It never crossed my mind that the rose was sitting there in plain sight. And he’s right, I always wear the same perfume, the one my mother wore. A bottle of it is Ebony’s Christmas gift to me each year. I spray it on before I walk out of the door every day – and that night.
‘I doubted myself at first. Convinced myself it couldn’t be you, maybe I was misremembering, I hadn’t had my glasses on, and then I thought you must be repulsed by the weird stuttering fool, and—’
I point a threatening finger at him. ‘Don’t you dare say that. I wouldn’t allow anyone else to talk about you like that, I’m certainly not going to let you. Your height, your stutter, and your abnormally longgorgeousarms are all part of what makes youyou.’
He smiles, folds my finger down and lifts my hand to his mouth. ‘Do you honestly not see why I haven’t been able to tear myself away? You make space for me in your life. I’m awkward and cumbersome. I never fit anywhere, and then I met you, and for the first time, Ifittedwith you. I felt like I was exactly the way I was supposed to be. Like there’s someone out there who is everyone’s perfect match, no matter how weird and awkward they are, and somehow I’d got lucky enough to stumble across mine. I’ve never connected with someone like I connect with you. The unexpected stuff we have in common, an understanding that’s hard to come by with many people. From the very first second I saw you, it felt like we were meant to meet, and that didn’t change whether you had a pretty dress on or the cargo pants and crochet jumpers you have on otherwise.’ He tugs my holey-knit tunic affectionately. ‘It doesn’t change whether your hair is straightened or the beautiful mass of curls that I can barely stop myself twirling around my fingers. I didn’t come looking for you because of how you looked – I came looking for you because I wanted to find out if I’d imagined the connection I thought we had.’
‘I convinced myself that you wouldn’t like me in the cold light of day. That you didn’t have your glasses on and if you saw the real me, you’d recoil in horror. And all the…’ I search for the right word. He might know it’s me, but he hasn’t realised the implications yet. ‘…online stuff. It went too far. It was never meant to—’
‘Don’t you realise I stopped looking? I was never interested in those emails because I knew it was you. From the moment I walked into your shop, I felt a sense of ease around you, exactly the way I did at the party. That doesn’t strike twice in one place. And the night we walked through the Full Moon Forest. Your hand through my arm, like it was at the ball. Then, Iknew.’
‘Why did you go on that date with that woman on Saturday night?’
He laughs. ‘Half curiosity about what she was going to come up with, and half because I wondered if it would push you into saying something. I didn’t mean to worry you as much as I did.’
‘I’m so sorry, Witt. I didn’t mean to lie to you, it just…’ There isn’t even a decent way to finish that sentence.
‘It’s all right. You told me in not-as-many words, and you know me, I’m always better with fewer words.’
I’m fighting back tears at how lovely he is. ‘Don’t you hate me for this?’
