Page 28 of Weekends with You

I knew it hadn’t been more than a kiss. In my brain, I knew that. But in my chest, hearing him say there was nothing for him in London made me realize I hadn’t accepted that it was just a kiss at all.

Despite the dropping early November temperatures, the heat under my skin was rising by the minute. I gathered my hair in a sloppy bun at the nape of my neck in an attempt to cool myself down, breathing intentionally and hoping I looked more relaxed than I felt.

I failed.

Henry grabbed my elbow as we were heading down the stairs, letting go the second I turned to face him. “Walk home with me,” he said.

“We’re all walking home together, aren’t we?”

“Let them go ahead.” I obliged, but didn’t look him in the eye right away. I was more embarrassed than I should have been, given that I was certain he hadn’t even been thinking of me when he said that, but embarrassment isn’t one of those emotions you can talk yourself out of.

Cal looked back and stopped walking, realizing we weren’t all together.

“We’ll catch up with you guys,” Henry called down the stairs.

Raja and Liv made kissing noises, and the heat climbed higher up the back of my neck. I tried to laugh it off, but instead just blew hot air into the night.

“So,” I said as we finally started walking. I wasn’t sure where to go from there, but someone had to say something.

“Lucy, I hope you’re not upset about what I said.” He was a man who got right to the point. Normally, I’d like that, if it was about something pleasant. Like how much he wanted to kiss me last time.

“Oh, that? Of course not,” I lied. “I get it. Your time in London has run its course. When a place has nothing to offer, you leave. I understand that.”

“I didn’t mean it had nothing to offer.”

“Well, that’s what you said, isn’t it?” I wasn’t trying to be argumentative. I just didn’t want him going back on something he meant because he thought it might have hurt my feelings.

“Yes, and I did mean it in some ways. Like, career ways. I didn’t mean it in terms of people.”

“But you’re leaving London regardless, right? Even if people here have something to offer?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, watching his feet as we walked. I felt bad for doing this tonight because I knew we were supposed to be enjoying the weekend, but in a way, he had started it. Or Margot had started it. Either way, it wasn’t me.

“I guess so. I mean, that was the plan. Is the plan. It’s just, I don’t—”

“Hen, it’s fine,” I said, desperate to stop his rambling. “You don’t have to explain it to me. Go do your soul-searching. Find wherever home is.” I wished he would find home in London, but what else was there to say? It would be selfish to be anything but supportive.

He stopped walking and once again touched his fingers to my elbow.

“I really liked kissing you, Lucy. And I’ve liked getting to know you even more. I don’t want a comment I made after a few drinks to make you think otherwise.” God, could this man be any more direct? The last guy I kissed had left me on Read when I texted to ask if I’d left my earrings at his place.

“Thank you,” I said. “And me too.” More fireworks exploded somewhere in the distance, and we both jumped at the sound.

“Is there a chance I might get to continue doing both of those things?” he asked, running his fingers from my elbow to my hand. Everything in me wanted to say yes, except my brain. My body certainly wanted to say yes to his exposed collarbone under his sweater, the warmth of his calloused hand in mine, the gentle way he held my gaze. But my brain wanted to run for the hills, knowing Margot was right and this was a recipe for disaster.

I had to protect myself. As much as I wished I was the kind of woman who didn’t mind her relationships having an expiration date, who would throw herself into something she knew was going to crash and burn just to enjoy the heat of the flames, I wasn’t. Not even close.

“Henry, I want to say yes, I just—”

“Can’t, because I’m always leaving. I know. And even though I keep coming back, it isn’t enough.”

“You read my mind,” I said. “I don’t know what’s more difficult—only getting two days a month, or being left to wait for the rest of it. But I’m not sure I’m okay with either. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He shook his head and dropped my hand, which immediately turned cold. “It’s an unreasonable ask. I get it.” We smiled sorry smiles at each other and returned to the walk.

“But,” he said, without looking at me, “if you change your mind...”

“I know where you live.”

---