Page 99 of Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye

“Why not?!”

“Well, I…uh…” Perspiration beaded on Tarquin’s brow as Leia shook her head, the words he desperately wanted to say tangled on his tongue. Don’t panic. Be honest. He tugged at his belt and tried again, breaking through his wince. “Our last night in London…when you told me about the Met job, I was happy for you but gutted for myself.” Bowing his head, he wrenched his silver ring around his thumb. “I tried to hide it, but after we hugged…I don’t know, somehow, I reckon I gave myself away? You had this look on your face, like you’d sussed me out completely. You knew I’d been lying. You knew I wanted more than a friendly fling. Right?”

Leia fussed with the sunglasses in her hands. “I had my suspicions.”

“And you were bang-on.” He scraped the toe of his pristine white sneakers on the ground. “I was furious with myself, embarrassed, like I’d been caught out.” He looked up with a squint. “Nobody likes a liar, right?”

“No,” she murmured, letting out a shaky breath. Her eyes fled Tarquin and darted along the curved condominium balconies overlooking the High Line.

“I was afraid to read your email the next day—god knows what you thought of me—but once I did, I was speechless. You were lovely. Absolute class. I felt like I didn’t deserve your kindness, not after I lied about my feelings. I’d put you in an awkward situation and I sort of hated myself for it.”

Leia chewed her cheek.

“I did sit down and write a response, but thought I should wait a bit, give you some space. And I realized I needed time, too, to deal with a few hard truths of my own. There was only one thing for it—I had to save face, lick my wounds in private, so I left it in my drafts folder. But I swore to myself I’d get in touch once I found the clarity I needed.” All right, old boy, if you’re truly embracing this honesty kick, you’ve got to spill. She can’t love you back if you hide the real you. Tarquin moved closer. “That’s why I started seeing a psychologist, hoping he’d help me get there.”

Her eyes locked with his. “You went to therapy,” she whispered, “because of me?”

“No, I went because of me.” Tarquin let out a pent-up breath and dipped his chin, his fingers idly tugging the strap of his Rolex. “Despite appearances, I’m not the perpetually cheeky chappie looking for a shagging good time 24/7. Sometimes I feel like a half-assed version of myself, stumbling about in a melancholy funk I can’t shake. I become apathetic, withdraw from everyone. I get irritable over daft things.” He twisted his lips, his voice growing quieter. “Nothing brings me joy no matter how hard I play or how high I climb. And these intrusive thoughts take over, make me wonder, like, what if I just vanished? Would anyone give a toss?”

Leia leaned in, grasping his forearm. “Yes, they would.” The warmth of her hand, its confidence and strength made his heart skip a beat. “Lots of people care about you, Tarquin: your brothers, Harry, Ava…me.”

You? He looked up, a sparkle of hope brightening his eyes. “But you know what it’s like. Reason does a runner when you’re depressed—you can’t see what’s right in front of you.” Leia’s nod was the green light he needed to continue. “And it’s so flippin’ isolating. The thought of anyone finding out, seeing me as this wretched zombie curled up in my trackie bottoms eating Frosties straight from the box…well, that’s not the Tarquin Balfour all the ladies and gents want to see.”

Leia gave his arm a squeeze and let go. “I know that feeling.”

“Right? So, after a few lost days, I’d pack up my pity party for one and get stuck in. Throw on a bespoke suit and act like nothing happened. Like Kiki always says, ‘The show must go on, luv!”

“Oh, so your mother knows?”

“Does she, heck! But with everything skew-whiff lately”—he shrugged and stopped torturing his Rolex—“I decided enough was enough and reached out for professional help.”

“That’s great, Tarquin! Really, it’s a huge step. You should be proud of yourself.” Her gaze settled on his lips. “I’m proud of you.”

A smile warmed his face. “Cheers, Leia.”

“So, how are you feeling? Has therapy helped?”

“Yeah, despite my initial trepidation, it’s been bloody great, actually. I’ve learned a lot, not all of it pretty, but life’s messy, right?” His squint strayed to a rowdy pack of teenagers passing by. “I’m not fooling myself, though. I know I’ll have to work on this for the rest of my life, but I’ve never been one to avoid hard graft so…I reckon I’ll be all right. As backup, I brought Nick, Rupert, and Harry into the loop.”

Leia raised her eyebrows. “Oh? How’d they react?”

“They’ve been smashing, really supportive…” Tarquin muted his grin and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “While I haven’t been. Leia, I feel terrible. I’ve been a rubbish friend. I’m so sorry.”

“I would’ve listened, you know, helped you.” She sighed. “I started to think you hated me.”

“Oh god, no! I could never. I just needed to deal with my shit before I reached out. I never stopped thinking about you, I never stopped loving you.” Tarquin bit his bottom lip. “Then yesterday happened and I thought I was dreaming! You! Right there with me. I thought my heart was going to conk out it pounded so hard. And that bathing suit…”

She glanced down at her hands and sunglasses again.

Shit. Too honest? He cleared his throat. “But I was bricking it, too. I didn’t know how you’d react, if you’d blank me or make excuses and leave. I’m so grateful you didn’t.” A soft smile curved his mouth. “I’m so grateful you’re here now. It means a lot, you listening, giving me this chance to explain and apologize.” It feels like the weight I’ve carried has finally lifted. He laid a hand on his chest. “I hope somehow you can find it in your heart to forgive me. These past few months have been bloody hard. I’ve missed you so much.”

Leia nodded. “I completely understand struggling with depression.” Looking up, she held his eyes for a beat, then blinked away. “The rest, not so much.”

His grin melted as his hand fell. “Sorry?”

“Oh, come on, Tarquin.” Her glare flew back at him, tinged with hurt and disappointment. “Don’t play dumb. You come here claiming you love me, but for seven whole fucking months you ignored me, signed up with some elite matchmaking service, and began a relationship with a celebrity chef. Just a week ago, you were planning to introduce her to your entire family!” She huffed. “So, despite all that, you expect me to welcome you back into my life with open arms?”

Fuck! Tarquin’s heart sank. The only thing missing from her argument is check and mate. His gaze fled, skimming the Kasmin Gallery’s rooftop garden on their right, its trio of colorful pop art installations by Robert Indiana standing tall amongst meadow flowers and aspen trees. But wait a minute… if she doesn’t want me in her life, why IS she so furious? He tugged at his bottom lip as his eyes landed on the third sculpture, the red, white, and blue LO stacked atop a VE. Fuck! He swallowed hard, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Because she had feelings for me! And still does… ?