Page 34 of Enemies to Lovers

He grins at me. ‘One or two,’ he tells me. ‘If we’re telling each other the truth.’

‘I appreciate that,’ I nod, noting how little I’m bothered. I don’t feel jealous. It’s almost a relief – confirmation that this doesn’t have to mean anything except practice at having a good time.

We’re interrupted by the ringing of my phone.

‘Mum,’ I say, answering. ‘Hey. How are you?’

‘Darling! Are you having a lovely time?’

I look at Adonis, laid out on the rock like a merman.

‘Yeah,’ I say, and he gives me a smile. ‘Thanks. What’s up?’

‘I wondered if you were coming out to dinner with us tonight? No pressure or anything, darling – don’t rush home. It’s just if you’ll be back late, we’ll already have left, you see. I don’t want you to feel abandoned.’

‘That’s kind of you to check,’ I say. I pull the phone away from my ear to see the time. It’s already 3 p.m. ‘I had a big lunch actually, Mum,’ I go on. ‘And we’re at a waterfall. Exploring. Leave me a key under the mat at the front door?’

‘Done,’ she says. ‘See you later.’ She pauses. ‘Or not,’ she adds, and I could die.

‘I’ll be back, Mum,’ I say, rolling my eyes. ‘Thanks for the encouragement, though.’

I hang up, and Adonis asks if everything is okay. And it’s so annoying, but as is my way, hot tears prick at my eyes, so I can’t speak, only nod. And then he looks at me all full of sympathy, and one tear falls over my waterline, a solitary escapee running straight down to my chin before I wipe it away, uttering, ‘Sorry. It’s just, she’s like, the best person I know. And I suppose from everything I told you, I wish I was stronger, you know? To be more like her? It’s a bit embarrassing to be a less amazing version of her. Like when you trace a picture at school and make a faint copy of the original. It’s like that.’

‘You feel,’ Adonis supplies, ‘not good enough because you are not like her?’

I nod again. ‘I suppose that’s about it, yeah,’ I say. ‘That feeling of inferiority is never far from the surface. Erupts without notice.’

He considers this and, after a beat, says, ‘I think Veronica is a very good woman. But so is Flo. I think you should think about being a very good Flo, instead of a not-so-good Veronica.’

I blink at him, shocked.

‘I’ve had a therapist for two years,’ I say, ‘and she’s never summed it up as well as that.’

Adonis pulls me in for a hug, holding me tight. I can feel, from the placement of his arms and the way he rubs my back, like Mum does when we’re sad, that itisn’t sexual. It’s fraternal. Reassuring, asking nothing in return.

‘Better?’ he asks, when I’ve let a few more tears pass.

‘Better,’ I say, wiping my eyes. ‘Adonis, you’re a very kind man.’ He smiles, gives a little shrug. ‘I’m sorry I’m a hot mess.’

Adonis tells me not to worry and suggests that I get in the water, let this magical place wash away my tears. So I do. I slide into the water and push off a rock to go down deep, holding my breath to see if I can touch the floor. I can’t, and I bob back up to the surface for more air. I swim to underneath the waterfall, letting the water hit my head, and tip my chin up like I’m in any other shower, except I’m not. I’m here, in a cove set back from the road, in Greece, with a man with a topknot who is called, implausibly, Adonis – and the freedom of it, the newness of it, lets me see life from a new angle. What if all I have to do is be the best Florence, instead of imitating Mum? What would that look like?

I’m not sure, in this moment, but asking the question is heady.

I let the waterfall wash away everything that I have ever let hold me back, baptising myself anew.

I’m okay, I tell my heart, and she swells in my chest in agreement, beating hard and steady and full of life. It feels good. It feels so,sogood to be finally letting go.

10

Hope

So, are you going to see this Greek god again?

Me

We didn’t discuss that! When he dropped me off, we just said bye

Do you think that’s bad?

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