Page 30 of Tears of Glass

“Don’t you want me to?” My hands go to my hips. I’m tired. How far have I walked?

His phone rings and he turns to answer it, leaving me stood in the street. “Yes, I’ve got her.”

I might as well keep walking. I take another few steps until the car pulls up again. Not that I stop, I just plod along. Although with every step the pavement becomes harder under my feet and there’s a pretty nasty taste of wine and old cigarettes on my tongue.

“I can’t believe...” I might as well just talk. “I can’t believe that I’ve spent the last what, three weeks, thinking you were marrying someone else. You could have told me. Text me. Anything.”

I can’t think of those first few days after Al died. I brush at a stray tear which splatters down my cheek.

“Fuck, Elijah. You were the first man I’ve ever truly trusted, and you did that. And then Al died, and left me, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what hurt most.” Glancing to the right I see his car is no longer there.

I don’t care, though. It feels good. My chest, bound so tight for weeks, is starting to move, starting to breathe.

“And then Tabitha. I mean, I had enough going on. I love her, I do, but I was facing all sorts of shit. My dad, and Aiden. And then with D—”

Fingers catch my elbow and spin me round. My head is clear.

And it’s Elijah, he’s there. His suit of earlier is now a navy T-shirt and jeans. His hair so short, his eyes so bright, it’s all him.

My breath comes in ragged gasps. His hands are in my hair, his thumb on my jaw. “I’ve been waiting for you to work it out.”

“Work what out?”

He smiles. My stomach tightens, my fingers shake. “That there is no one else for me. It’s just you.”

“What?” A tear trickles down my cheek and he wipes at it with his thumb.

“It’s just you, Faith. It’s hurt, letting you grieve. You’ve no idea how guilty I’ve felt knowing you missed Al, because of me.”

“Why the hell didn’t you message me, call me, come to Brighton to find me?”

His lips press against my forehead and I breathe in the scent of him. Mingled with the warm London night air, he smells of tantalising promises.

“Things were complicated. I had a lot to sort out. But I can’t lie, Faith. I wanted you to have time. I wanted you to fight for me, the way I was for you.”

“And I wanted you to fight for me.”

“I’ve never felt as shit as I did when I found out about Al.” He’s still not holding me properly. And it’s probably a good thing.

I need to breathe. I need to think. All of this, and it wasn’t anything... I just can’t.

“Elijah. I don’t do seconds you know that.”

“And I don’t do girlfriends, Faith, you know that.”

“What does that mean?” My heart constricts.

“It means that nothing is as it should be. Nothing that was, is the same. We’ve changed each other.”

I need to sit down. Like right now. The pavement seems good, so I fold my legs and try to make sense of everything. He sits beside me, but not before reaching his hand into his pocket and pulling out the black tear shaped diamond he gave me the night before the ball. The one I’d left in the pink bedroom he’d painted for me at Bowsley.

“This is yours.”

“I’m not accepting it.”

“It’s still yours, though. So wear it, don’t wear it. It can sit in a box at my house if necessary. But it’s still yours.”

“You really aren’t getting married?” In a moment of crumbling weakness, I let tears fall down my face as I lean against him, breathing in the intoxicating scent of him. It’s just once, just one blip and then I’ll be strong again.