Almost Forever Read online

  ‘Yes,’ he answered with a sigh. ‘That size is for about eighty … but that’s good because I think we had eighty-four RSVPs so it should be just enough.’

  I was speechless, unsure if he was teasing me or not. He looked pretty serious but with Harry I never knew.

  He raised an eyebrow and stared at me with a smile, giving me a few seconds to work that one out for myself.

  ‘Are we really waiting for seventy-four more guests?’ I asked dumbfounded.

  ‘Seventy-two to be precise. A couple of people couldn’t make it at the last minute,’ Robert added as he carried two glasses of champagne.

  ‘Thanks,’ I answered, taking one of the flutes from his hand and then asking, ‘So who’s coming?’

  ‘The usual crew plus a few people from school. Friends of friends,’ said Robert, but I just couldn’t take my eyes off Paul, who was standing directly across from us.

  ‘It’s going to be a hell of a party,’ said Robert who always swore to feel grown-up.

  ‘Right,’ I agreed, lifting my glass towards his and he clinked it to mine. Bubbles of apprehension had begun to build in my belly as Paul kept his eyes on me. It was time for closure.

  ‘Excuse me one minute,’ I said to Harry and Robert. ‘You guys keep the guests entertained until I’m back, okay?’ They looked at me with puzzled expressions.

  ‘Where are you going?’ asked Harry, but I shook my head.

  ‘There’s something I need to do. I’ll be back in a minute, I promise!’ And then I walked over to Paul. He was already waiting for me, knowing my intentions, so he took my hand and we walked across the lawn.

  ‘Can we sit down somewhere quiet?’ I asked.

  ‘Sure,’ he agreed.

  I needed privacy for this so we walked all the way to the end of the garden and sat under a magnificent tree. It was the perfect place to have this conversation, since the first summer I’d spent at the villa in St-Tropez, I’d considered this tree my safe haven. I always came here if I were troubled or happy or upset.

  ‘Sometimes I think I hear words when the wind blows through the leaves,’ I said, listening to the susurrus of the branches swaying softly in the breeze.

  ‘What are they saying?’ he asked, looking at me.

  ‘Nothing, it was stupid,’ I answered, shaking my head.

  We sat in silence for a few seconds, then he said, ‘You didn’t tell me about your results. How did you do?’

  I exhaled some of the anxiety in my chest and said, ‘I made the grade,’ unable to stop the smile that followed my words.

  ‘For which offer?’ he asked, impressed.

  ‘All of them,’ I answered, still unable to relax and enjoy my triumph.

  ‘Well done,’ he said simply. His eyes were on me but there was an invisible barrier between us that still kept us apart.

  ‘So where will you be going then?’ he asked with the tone of someone who already knew the answer.

  ‘You know where,’ I said quietly.

  ‘Cambridge,’ he answered and then gently pushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear. ‘Your childhood dream.’

  I nodded, closing my eyes and inhaling much more deeply than necessary.

  Cambridge University and you, Paul, were always what I dreamed of for my future, I reminded myself with a dull ache in my heart.

  ‘I’m really proud of you.’ His voice was like velvet, his words a balm and a curse. I missed him so much. Maybe I should have allowed us to be friends at least, but he said he loved me, and we could never just be friends after that.

  ‘Paul,’ I breathed out in a whisper, turning to face him. His deep blue eyes, so dear to me, stared back at me and I let myself believe again, for the first time in a very long time.

  He lifted his hand and gently stroked my cheek. His fingertips trailed slowly down my neck, over the straps of my dress and then down my arm, all the way to my wrist. His touch reminded me of that night in his bedroom. The memories of our passion were a fire in my belly. I closed my eyes, once again too overwhelmed to handle him. He took my hand in his and I couldn’t breathe any more, strangled by the emotions of this intimate moment.

  I had no idea what to do. All I really wanted, right now and always, was to be with him. Unwilling to let myself go, unable to pull back, I simply sat still.

  ‘Do you love me, Fran?’ he asked quietly, his lips close, his heart beating with mine.

  ‘I …’

  I love you, still love you, have always loved you, since ever and forever. That was the truth, the only truth. That was what I wanted to say to him, but the words were not forthcoming. I didn’t know if I could trust him with my heart.

  ‘Ask me,’ he suggested. ‘I’m not afraid to say it again. I have no ties now that would stop me from telling you a million times. And if that’s what you need – to hear it a million times before you can finally say it back – that’s what I’ll do.’

  I looked at him, trying to decide if I wanted to hear him say it again, if I was ready to believe after he told me he loved me, again and again. My thoughts were interrupted and my chance to decide was taken away from me. When I heard noises, I looked up to see a group of people coming over to where we were. They were closing in fast, so we had nowhere to go.

  It seemed the party guests had arrived and the night was about to begin. Frustrated that our moment was interrupted, I plastered a pretend smile onto my face and moved away from Paul slightly. Robert was leading a chorus of joyful voices singing ‘Happy Birthday’. They seemed to be oblivious of the tension between Paul and I, while we were still reeling from the surprise of been unexpectedly surrounded by friends.

  We were trapped by a circle of cheers, so Paul smiled at me and, after helping me up, he encircled my waist with his arm, while I smiled back at the crowd with as much glee as I could find in my troubled heart.

  ‘You owe me an answer,’ he muttered under his breath, only loud enough for me to hear.

  I had not managed a minute by myself since that moment. I noticed Paul watching me from afar as I mingled and danced and laughed with the guests. His gaze stayed on me until he suddenly disappeared from the party. It was both a relief and a disappointment but I decided not to dwell on either emotion.

  Midnight came and went, but as the clock approached two in the morning, most of the guests were finally on their way out. I walked to the pool house, hoping to get a minute to myself as I waited for the last few stragglers to go. I opened the door and kept the lights off, only managing a step into the living area when I heard his voice behind me.

  ‘Hi,’ he said. I turned around to look at Paul leaning against the doorframe.

  ‘Hi,’ I answered, feeling my stomach tightening.

  He looked so handsome with his jacket in his hands and his shirtsleeves rolled up. His arms were strong, his lips soft, and his eyes burning as he looked at me. The lights of the party were shimmering behind him, leaving his silhouette in shadow.

  ‘Can I come in?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course,’ I said, more pleased to see him than I wanted to admit. ‘I thought you’d left – I couldn’t see you anywhere.’

  ‘I was giving you some space,’ he answered, stepping closer, but staying at a safe, comfortable distance.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, sitting on the sofa. I could hear the noise of the catering people outside collecting bottles and glasses left behind by the guests. The music had stopped as well and I imagined the band meticulously placing the instruments in their cases to get ready to leave, returning to their families or driving to their next gig somewhere down the coast.

  Everywhere was silent apart from the beating of our hearts.

  Finally, he came to sit next to me. We sat in silence for a while, neither of us seemingly wanting to be the first to break it.

  Paul cracked first. ‘It was hard, painful, and frustrating, being away from you.’

  Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair.

  ‘At the beginning, I forced myself to stay away, t
o try to forget you, because I thought you were in love with Harry. It wasn’t just the kiss I saw – you guys were inseparable, and the way you looked at him, there were deep feelings in your eyes. He was everywhere you were, and it seemed plausible, possible. You looked happy together and I loved you both so I decided that taking myself out of the equation would be for the best.’

  ‘So, you searched for consolation,’ I said bitterly.

  ‘Oh, good God, Fran, are you hearing yourself? I loved you and it broke my heart to think that you were in love with my brother. I wanted to fight for you, but can’t you see why I couldn’t do that to Harry?’

  ‘No, I can’t see why not. Because it was all in your head and if you had just talked to me, I would have told you the truth. If you opened up to me and told me how you felt, we would have saved ourselves three years of heartbreak.’ The words tumbled out, but immediately I regretted them. I’d been unfair with him. I could have been the one upfront about my feelings. I could have forgiven him instead of stubbornly pushing him away.

  Of course, I could see why he didn’t tell me how he felt, why he didn’t try to make me fall in love with him, why he didn’t fight for me. Of course, I could see why he didn’t make love to me while he had a girlfriend waiting for him, why he didn’t say he loved me until he was free to say so. Paul is a man of principles, he has integrity, and would not let the goal justify the means to achieve it. Wasn’t that one of the reasons why I loved him so much?

  ‘As soon as you said that you loved me, I knew I wanted to be with you and no one else. It was always you, Fran … but your words were like a bucket of ice water on me, a reminder that nothing could ever happen between us until I was unattached. Stepping away from you that night felt like a stab in my heart. I broke up with her the minute I returned to Stanford, so that you and I could be together, so that I could tell you how much I loved you, but you just pushed me away.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter now. It’s too late, too much has happened,’ I said, resigned.

  ‘Don’t ever say that.’ I watched as his patience ran out. He looked at me carefully for a few seconds and when I shook my head, he sighed.

  ‘Do you know what, Fran? I’m done with this. We are done. There is no point in wasting any more time in trying to convince you of something that you’re never going to believe anyway. I spent an entire year trying to prove to you that my feelings are real and you ignored me, avoided me. Acting like a child tells me you’re not ready for the type of commitment I want to give you. So, like you once said to me, have a good life, Fran. I’m sure as hell not going to be in it!’ He stood up and looked down at me, clearly aggravated.

  My blood boiled. ‘You are so arrogant, Paul!’ I spat the words with a broken voice, then swallowed and channelled my frustration into the rest of my accusation. ‘How do you know how it feels to be left behind? You decided to study in the States; you just took off and left me without a word, without a promise, without any hope that you’d be ever be back for me.’

  I stood up too, enraged by his words and confused by the extreme, contrasting feelings I had for him.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘if I could turn back time, I would do things differently, but that’s not going to happen. We have a shot at it now. Are you going to walk away from it or stay with me and find out if all of this was worth it?’ We were facing each other and this felt more like a declaration of war than a proposal for a future together.

  ‘You are the one who had walked away from me!’ I said, thinking of how much time we’d spent apart in the past three years.

  ‘You’re scared of getting hurt, so scared in fact that if things aren’t going smoothly from the very beginning, you just close your heart to make sure you’re not the one who’s going to get it broken. Have you ever thought how much you’ve hurt me, trying to protect yourself?’ His eyes pierced mine as he finished his rant with a frustrating growl.

  I was stunned by the truth he had just laid in front of me. A truth that I’d never considered before. Had I really hurt him? I stood, speechless, and when he turned and walked out the door, without another word, I felt as if he had just taken my heart with him.

  It took me a few minutes to stop my hands from shaking, to pull myself together, and to realise that spending my life without him was going to be scarier than taking the risk to love him.

  Suddenly the fear that I may have lost him, that I may have pushed him too far this time, made me see clearly that I was ready to let him in, ready to take that risk, ready for the commitment he wanted. I dried my eyes and ran out of the pool house. I was wrong – I could see that now. I just had to tell him that. A smile tugged at my lips as I ran up to his bedroom, ready to commit to him, ready to declare my love.

  ‘Paul …’ I called out. When he didn’t answer, I opened the door. He wasn’t there. The bed was made, the room was empty, and I could see he hadn’t been there. I ran down the stairs, checked the lounge, checked the kitchen, checked everywhere, but Paul had just disappeared into the dark of the night.

  I dragged myself into my room and cried myself to sleep, hoping that he was just angry, that he needed some time to cool down and would eventually come back to me, when he was ready to talk. When I woke up, I checked his bedroom again. It was exactly as it had been last night, so I forced myself to accept the reality that Paul was gone.

  ***

  I jump out of the cab with a distracted ‘thank you’ to the driver and run into the hospital. I don’t bother with the lift that always takes too long to arrive and I use the stairs instead. When I finally reach the ward I’m out of breath. I give the nurses a quick wave as I head straight for Paul’s room. I step in and finally take a deep breath.

  Paul is still there, peacefully asleep in his bed. Harry is resting on the armchair in the corner of the room. He looks deeply asleep. I walk to Paul and kiss him as all my fear pours out of my heart. The memory of him leaving me then makes me even more worried for him now.

  ‘Paul! Paul!’ I call him softly, shaking him lightly. ‘Paul, it’s me; I’m here. Can you hear me?’ I keep asking him, taking his hand in mine and pressing it against my heart, hoping that he can feel it beating. Paul is still unresponsive but the fact that I’m with him now gives me a little bit of hope. Amongst the desperation of my words, I hear Harry approaching.

  ‘Hey,’ he says, putting his hand on my shoulder. ‘Are you all right?’ he asks, looking at me with a worried expression.

  ‘I won’t leave him again – do you understand?’ I warn Harry with a frantic voice. ‘I’m not going anywhere until Paul wakes up. Make peace with it because you’ll have to drag me out of this room with brute force if you want me gone because I’m not going to leave him, not even for a minute … not even for a second,’ I say as the tears flood into my eyes. I look at Harry as if he’s the bogey man. I know that’s unfair and I feel immediately ashamed.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ he says, taking me into his arms despite my angry words towards him. He’s stroking my back, patiently waiting for me to calm down. When my sobs start to subside, he pushes away from me slightly so that he can look at me again. He gently dries my tears with a gesture that he had used countless times before and then asks, ‘What brought this on?’

  I sniffle, unsure of what to answer. I didn’t really have a specific reason to panic – it just happened – and now that I’m here, with Paul again, safely in Harry’s arms, I feel as if I freaked out for nothing.

  ‘Nothing. It was nothing,’ I say. ‘But I don’t want to leave again. Please don’t make me, please,’ I beg him.

  ‘Sure, of course. I’m sorry I insisted you went home, Fran. I just thought that a shower and a change of clothes would make you feel better.’

  ‘It did but being away from him, even for a second, it’s too frightening,’ I say, leaning over to kiss Paul’s forehead.

  ‘We’ll do whatever makes you feel comfortable, okay? So, don’t worry, we’ll work together, like we always do. I’ll get you fresh clothes
when you need them, and I’m going to ask the nurses if they can bring a cot in here, so you can sleep in a proper bed without having to leave the room,’ he suggests.

  ‘Can you really do that?’ I ask, not wanting to get my hopes up.

  He shrugs his shoulders and says, ‘I guess we’re going to find out.’

  Harry manages to convince the head of the department of the necessity of my presence, so the armchair in the corner is swapped with a folding bed, which means I can actually lie down when the exhaustion is too much to bear.

  ‘Thank you, Harry, this is amazing,’ I tell him gratefully. ‘How did you convince them?’ I ask, expecting a convoluted explanation in return, maybe some gloating.

  ‘Sexual favours,’ he answers with his tongue firmly in cheek. I smile. Harry always makes me smile, and I can see he’s pleased about that more than his victory over the cot bed they’ve brought in for me.

  ‘Go home; get some sleep. You’ll need some energy to pay up what you owe that nurse,’ I tell him, leaning forward to kiss him goodbye. He hugs me briefly and seems happy to leave now that he can see I’m back in control.

  ‘I’ll text you later with the list of what to bring over in the morning,’ I say, trying to show him that I can be practical, that I’m not falling apart.

  ‘Sure, beware – if you don’t, I’ll just bring whatever I like,’ he says with a grin, before heading for the door.

  ‘Harry …’ I call out to him, before he goes. ‘Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

  ‘I’ll remind you about this at Christmas,’ he answers with a cheeky wink, and makes me smile again.

  Chapter Ten

  Alone with Paul, I climb into the small bed next to him and stroke his hair softly. ‘I found the suitcase you hid in the loft,’ I whisper into his ear. My head is resting lightly on his shoulder. ‘It’s incredible, you are incredible, and I can’t believe you kept that from me for all these years.’ I follow the shape of his mouth with my fingertips, caress his cheek, trace his eyebrows, his jaw, filling my heart with him.