Page 73 of Actually Yours

He doesn’t argue with me, like all my girlfriends have done, instead humming under his breath and nodding. “It’s not ideal.”

An understatement.

“But, not insurmountable, if you both want it? I guess that’s the question; do you want it? Him?”

Yes!my brain screams at me.Yes, I want him!

“I think so,” I say over my screeching brain. “But I also think that I’ve got a lot to work through before I let him, or anyone, in.” I tap my head to show where exactly I’m messed up, and he nods again.

“I know exactly how you feel.” And the funny thing is, I believe him. “Bella terrified me when we first met. I was scared of how I felt for her, scared to let her in, scared to have her leave me. I was in a permanent state of panic for months.”

“So, how did you get over the fear?” I’m dying for him to give me the answers. To sort out this jumble for me.

“I didn’t have a choice,” he says simply. “I had to be with her. And that fear? That fear of losing the person you love? Of being hurt? It never goes away. It’s just that all the good times, all the joy they bring to your life, all the love they pour into you, it drowns it out. Makes it easier to live with.” He stops to draw breath and I wipe at the tears gathering in my eyes. “Being with someone, really being with them, doesn’t suddenly make you all better, instead it makes you want to be better. For them. For her.”

He smiles behind me, a look of pure adoration on his handsome face.

“You turning into a counsellor now?” Bella asks him from the doorway, her voice husky with emotion. She must have heard the bulk of his advice to me, and if she’s anything like me, she must be melting inside.

“Just trying to help,” he grins at her, the smile that’s just for Bella. “Like Amelia did for us, when you were panicking and threatening to leave me.”

A warmth fills me at this reminder of the minor role I played in the two of them getting together. Really, I was just a sounding board for when Bella was behaving like a crazy in love person, but I think it helped. They’re married now, so it can’t have hurt.

“You’re a good man,” she says, walking over and planting a soft kiss on his lips. “And I bet you’re dying to spend the day watchingLove, Actuallywith us, aren’t you?”

He pulls her onto the couch in between us, tickling her while she giggles helplessly. “I think I’ll pass,” he yells over his shoulder as he makes a mad dash out of the living room, almost as if he feared we’d tie him down and force him to watch it.

Maybe Bella’s done that to him in the past?

“So was his advice useful?” she asks once she’s got her breath back. “Anything resonating with you?”

All of it.

“I think so. The part about feeling the fear and doing it anyway, that definitely struck a chord with me. I just need to get over myself and be brave.”

She snuggles into my side. “It’s not the easiest thing to do. Be kind to yourself, you’ll get there.”

“Thank you, Bella.”

“You’re welcome. You know I’m here for you always.”

Her words warm my heart. “So, let’s just watch the movie and forget about my boy troubles for a couple of hours.”

She grins. “Done. You’re going to love this movie.”

And she’s right. From the very first scene, I’m hooked. My attention is glued to the screen, watching Colin Firth fall in love through a language barrier, Emma Thompson’s husband emotionally cheat on her (that scene almost broke me), Keira Knightly being serenaded with handwritten signs and the little boy learning to play the drums to woo his teenage crush. But it’s the relationship between Hugh Grant, the Prime Minister, and his secretary, Natalie, that really has me enthralled. It’s funny, and it’s sweet and it’s just so charming.

“I can’t believe he had her fired,” I mumble through a mouthful of popcorn that Daniel had thoughtfully delivered to us halfway through the movie. “What an idiot.”

“Shush, just wait,” Bella pats my hand and we resume watching.

I watch, hugging a pillow to me, as Hugh Grant’s character regrets his decision to let the woman he loves go, how he sits down to read a bunch of Christmas cards and how one of them is from her.

“I’m actually yours,” the voice of Natalie reads the words of her card to him in her delightful British accent and my body is zapped like it’s been hit by lightning.

“What did she say?” I ask, my voice scratchy.

“Huh?” Bella’s eyes are glued to the TV, completely ignoring the lightbulb moment I’m having on my side of the couch.

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