Page 106 of Untether

‘I bet you’re neither. But it’s okay to be both. If you can’t lose your shit in the bathtub, where can you?’

That earns me a weak smile. ‘True.’

Again, I wait.

‘People keep asking me what I want. You asked me what I wanted, that very first time.’

I frown. ‘Right…’

‘And I realise being asked what you want is the epitome of privilege, and—’

‘Baby. You don’t need caveats with me. Spit it out.’

Her expression is defeated as she turns to look at me.

‘It’s like they ask—other people, not you—but they’re really asking what I think I should want. Or should think. The production team. Mara. Lizzy. I feel like I’ve created this persona of Aida Russell, progressive superwoman, who’s always on message and never lets her mask slip and is, like, this paragon of perfection who gets paraded around.’

‘That sounds fucking exhausting,’ I say. It’s true. Her accomplishments, her pace, the number of balls she has in the air at any given time… they all make me feel tired. I just didn’t realise they madeherfeel tired too, and it’s reassuring, somehow.

‘Yeah,’ she mouths, then snags her bottom lip between her teeth. She looks as though she’s deliberating on something.

I brush my fingers lightly over her jaw. ‘So,’ I say as gently as possible, because I don’t want to come at her like a bull in a china shop and risk her clamming up, ‘if I was to ask you whatyoureally want right now, would that be helpful or unhelpful?’

Her eyes are huge and dark, luminous with unshed tears.

She’s not deliberating anymore.

She’s on a fucking precipice.

‘I want,’ she says slowly, a tiny furrow appearing between her eyebrows, ‘to find the courage to enjoy this process without feeling endlessly beholden to a million parties.’

‘And what process is that?’ I whisper.

She lets out a long, shuddery sigh, but her eyes don’t leave mine. ‘This process where I’m falling deeply, terrifyingly in love with you.’

The silence that follows her words is one that splits my heart open. If anyone is capable of delivering a mic-drop comment, it’s Aida, but there’s something about the simplicity of her words and her willingness to let them hover between us, in this damp, scented air, that has me reeling.

I can’t stop staring. It’s as if I’m terrified that, by dropping eye contact, I’ll shatter the sheer magic of this moment.

But I can’t leave her hanging, either.

Nor can I resist the smile that’s growing, threatening to split my face in two.

‘You’re in love with me?’

Her eyes dart over my face. She’s on the brink of reneging. Of turning and throwing herself onto solid ground, saving herself from that sheer drop. ‘I know it’s quick,’ she gabbles, pulling her hand out from beneath mine. ‘I mean—’

‘No.’ I grab her wrists.‘No.I’m not going to let you ruin this with logic.’ I bend further over the side of the tub so my face is inches from hers, my thumbs taking the frantic pulse beating through the thin skin of her wrist. She’s a deer in the headlights, but I’ve got her.

‘Baby,’ I say, my gaze searching her face, ‘are you saying you love me?’

It’s the most important question I’ve ever asked anyone, and the way she inhales tells me she understands that.

‘Yes,’ she says, her voice and gaze steadying in my grip.

‘Good.’I close the gap between us, my kiss as emphatic as my tone. I don’t know how this happened; I don’t know how on earth a muppet like me has caught the heart of a womanlike Aida. But, as I’ve said before, I’ll take whatever she has to give.

No qualms.

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