Page 51 of Weekends with You

“I didn’t have you pegged as the jealous type,” I said, secretly relishing the confession.

“Of course I am,” he said. “You think I want to imagine someone else kissing you? On a major holiday, with fireworks and champagne?” Whatever kind of chat I thought we were going to have had not prepared me for this. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“You didn’t have a choice,” I said. “I get it.”

“But I’m here now.”

“You keep saying that, but it doesn’t mean much of anything when it’s only for a day or two,” I said. The scale was tipping from flattery to frustration, and I couldn’t stop it. “And who knows when you’re going to stop coming home at all, right?”

He tousled his hair in the way he did when he was frustrated, and I forced myself not to pay attention to his hands. “Right,” he said eventually. “I suppose that is still the plan.”

“So where does that leave me?” I asked, though we both knew the answer. “I think I deserve a little more than just waiting around, Henry. I spend so much time waiting for you to come home, but really all I’m doing is waiting for you to leave for good, and I’m not big into either, if I’m honest.”

He considered this, and I fought the urge to apologize. I wasn’t sorry; I was just feeling uncomfortable in the silence following confrontation. But it was something that needed to be said, and I didn’t intend to take it back.

“You’re right,” he said eventually. “You do deserve more. And I wish I could give it to you, Luce. I wish I could see more of you when I was on the road. Hell, I wish I could see more of the whole lot of you when I was on the road.”

“So, you do miss us,” I said.

“Some of you more than others.” His smile was a bit tired, but it sent a warm current coursing through me. How did he keep pulling me back in like this? Had I no self-control?

We stood in a heavy silence, closer than we needed to be, but I resisted the urge to reach out and touch him.

“If only, though, right?” I said. “There’s no way you could come home more than once a month, is there?”

“Sadly, no. Even getting these few days off every month is a stretch.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“For my sanity. I need a home base, even if I’m hardly ever here.”

“And you still want that home base to be London, even if it has nothing to offer?”

“Old habits die hard, I guess. And like I said, I miss you lot.”

If he couldn’t come home more and had no plans to stop traveling, there was still nowhere for us to go from here. But the more he said he missed me while he was away, the more I wanted to make this work while he was home.

“We miss you, too,” I said, but it came out hardly more than a whisper. I wasn’t really speaking for everyone, which I hoped he understood. “Which makes me want to make the most of our time together when you’re home.”

“But?”

“But I know it’ll end with one of us getting hurt. And that one is probably me.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you, Lucy.”

If there was a self-control Olympics, I would take home the gold. He pushed his hair behind his ears and out of his eyes, revealing the deep green they turned in the dark. He really sounded like he meant what he was saying, which was perhaps the hardest part.

“Not on purpose, maybe,” I said. “But the circumstances aren’t promising, are they?”

“How do we know if we haven’t even tried?”

“What is there to try?”

“We could try long distance, Luce. We’ll have no idea what we’re missing if we don’t give it a proper shot. We might not be able to see each other in person, but we do have phones and computers and video calls. It’s not such a crazy idea.”

I hummed, considering the proposal. If we couldn’t stay away from each other, maybe it was time to stop trying.

“At least give us a chance to decide we hate each other,” he continued, and I exhaled, relieved to be on lighter ground.

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