Page 62 of The Library of Second Chances
It had been only two years, but all that time, Harry had been on his own. She understood the guilt about being ready to start moving on. ‘Sometimes, when I’m feeling happy,’ she said, hervoice quiet, ‘I want to stop myself. I don’t think I deserve to feel happiness when Mum and Dad died so recently. Like I’m insulting their memory by smiling when I should be grieving them every moment of the day.’
Harry turned his gaze to her.
‘But they wouldn’t want that.’ Chloe swallowed, her own grief creeping up to form as tears. ‘I know it’s different, but in some ways it’s the same. You feel responsible. And Jason thinks you are, too. But I think if I were Julie, I would want the man I loved to be able to find happiness. And deciding when the time is right for that would be his choice, no one else’s.’
Harry took Chloe’s cold hand and brought it to his lips. He held it there, clasped before his mouth, warming it with his large hands. She kept her hand there, feeling the soft warmth of his breath against her knuckles, and he hung on to it like a life raft.
‘We can go as slow as you want,’ she whispered.
The sandwiches arrived, though the mood between them was now sombre. Chloe wished Julie’s brother, Jason, had been more forthright instead of giving her an ominous message. Maybe Gwen was right. She read too many books. She had read the situation all wrong. Guilt squirmed in her for thinking badly of Harry and letting the situation escalate, but at least now she knew the truth.
They ate in silence, Chloe trying to think of something to say to break the tension. If she mentioned doing something for Christmas in the library, would it just drag up memories of Christmases with Julie? But also, why should she skirt around the subject?
Skirting around subjects was . . . a speciality of Chloe’s, arguably.
‘That was nice,’ said Harry, finishing off his coffee. He lowered his voice. ‘But I think Hannah does it better.’
She giggled. ‘I owe you, remember?’ she said when Harry took out his wallet to pay. ‘Don’t think I’ve forgotten.’
He met her eyes, and she saw the ghost of a smile. ‘Aw, I thought you had.’
They ended up agreeing to pay half each, and left the warmth of the café to step into the chilly early winter air.
‘It’s snowing,’ said Chloe in delight. White flakes fell all around them. With the mystery of Jason’s words settled and her stomach full of bacon, Chloe’s mood lifted. She looked up at Harry, who returned her smile and took her hand.
The streets fell quiet with the snowfall, and already the roofs looked sprinkled with sugar. They walked to her place in comfortable silence, Chloe pondering everything. They were both grieving and vulnerable, but she felt she was ready to date. Harry seemed so, too, even if he wanted to take things slowly. Their entwined fingers were a testament to that.
‘So is this why you don’t want anyone to know that we’re going out?’ she asked Harry as they strolled up the street towards her house. ‘Because of Jason?’
‘Not only because of him,’ said Harry. ‘I was worried, I suppose. Of what people might think of me seeing someone new. Of whatImight think. Part of me felt I was betraying her. I know that’s silly.’
‘It’s not.’ They had stopped walking now. Here between the houses, the wind was gentle. Snow fell silently all around them, settling in Harry’s hair and melting on his pink cheeks. ‘I can’t understand it fully, but I can try. Like I said, I sometimes feel guilty when I’m not grieving my parents. When I start to enjoy being in their old house without crying for them. Even though they would want me to be happy.’
‘Julie said that to me, as well,’ Harry said. ‘When she was . . . near the end. She told me to find happiness.’
‘Then let yourself find it.’ Chloe cupped his face, feeling the stubble beneath her palm. She remembered seeing him at the graveyard, the book about flowers he had borrowed, how he had added daisies and freesias to the bouquet.
A snowflake fluttered between them to land cold on her nose. ‘Let yourself be happy. With me, or with whoever else. When you’re ready. Jason is angry now, but he won’t be for ever.’
‘I didn’t smile for a long time after her funeral.’ Harry covered the hand on his face with his own. His warm brown eyes roamed over her face. ‘And as you know, I was grumpy all the time.’
A reluctant laugh escaped her. ‘Yup.’
‘But that first time, meeting you in the library that day. The way you shouted “You’re welcome” after me when I was . . . less than polite.’
She groaned. ‘You heard me say that?’
‘I did. So did Mrs Cook.’ His eyes crinkled. ‘You made me smile again.’ He leaned towards her, his warmth draping over her, until their faces were nearly touching. ‘I smiled all day after that. People so often treat me like I’m fragile, awkward, they don’t know what to say, like I’ll fracture at the wrong word. But you only ever treated me normally. And ever since that day, you’ve only interested me more. Even when we argued at the pub. I was fascinated by you.’
He inclined his head to kiss her, tasting of peppermint. Chloe closed her eyes, savouring him as the snow fell in a flourish around them. His heat was delicious, and she leaned into his strength as his tongue slid along hers, full of hunger and promise.
When he broke the kiss, Chloe said, ‘I’m okay with taking things slowly for now. We’ll tell people when you’re ready to.’ She still hadn’t told Gwen about Harry, after all. All her sister knew was what she had worked out for herself.
The drama with Jason made Chloe think of her ex-boyfriend. Not Liam, her ex-fiancé who had kissed Gwen, but the guy she had been seeing in Sheffield. She told Harry about him as they covered the last few paces to Chloe’s house. ‘I was seeing this guy, but it wasn’t anything serious.’ She glanced skyward, briefly hoping the snow wouldn’t stick. ‘When I got the news about my parents’ accident, I came straight to Derbyshire to see them in the hospital. I was supposed to be meeting him that day, but I switched off my phone and forgot to tell him I couldn’t make it. I’d forgotten all about it.’ She sighed, recalling the nail-biting anxiety as she had driven as fast as she’d dared to the Royal Derby Hospital, everything related to Sheffield and the people in it completely gone from her mind.
Harry squeezed her hand. ‘That’s understandable. Who wouldn’t forget?’
‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you?’ Chloe said. ‘I went to visit them. I was at the hospital for hours.’ She didn’t want to go into all the terrible details about her parents’ injuries. ‘I finally remembered to switch my phone back on sometime later that night. Simon had blown up my phone. So many missed calls and text messages. I told him what had happened, hoping for some sympathy.’ She could still smell the garish antiseptic scent of the bright hospital hallway, taste the cheap coffee, hear the clack of her shoes as she’d stepped outside, trying to find enough phone signal to call him back. The angry tears she’d shed. ‘He just gave me a hard time over it, saying I should have let him know and that I was selfish for keeping him waiting.’
