Page 45 of The Rival in South Africa
“You know,” I said, turning back to him, “there’s a lot of different types of photography. You could do portraits or fashion or something else.”
“To be honest, I never had much interest in photography. It was really all about you.”
“Is that true with everything else? Sailing? Running?”
“Sailing was fun,” he admitted. “It’s encouraged me to learn from the crew onThemis, and now, when I visit, I take out one of the sailing dinghies and zip around. But running.” He shuddered. “I am never running again if I can help it. I didn’t find out you were participating in the marathon until two months beforehand, and I did a stupid training schedule that wasn’t nearly enough.”
We smiled at each other, and I leaned my head on the back of the couch.
“I walked bowlegged for days afterward.”
I snorted. “Serves you right. I trained for six months!”
Alex let his smile fade and sat up. “Right, well. I should get going.” He stood up, and I followed him toward the door. “I’ve said my piece, and…” His shoulders climbed toward his ears as he turned to face me while I opened the door. “I hope you forgive me.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered it anyway. “I do. We’re very different, Alex, but I can understand why you did what you did. I appreciate the apology.”
His shoulders settled as he stepped out into the night, and his head tilted back, looking up at the night sky glowing from the city lights. “Not at all like the stars we saw in South Africa, are they?”
“No,” I agreed. “Everything looks a little different now.”
He sighed, dropping his eyes down to his feet as he took the stairs down. “Goodnight, Nikki.”
When he hit the bottom step, I called out, “Hey, Alex?”
He turned, the light catching his face and highlighting the hopefulness.
“I have a few weeks until my next trip. Take me out to dinner next week.”
His smile lit up the shadows. “Yes, ma’am.”
EPILOGUE
A few months later,I hefted my backpack up higher and adjusted the straps as I walked through the arrivals terminal of Heathrow. I was returning from a weekend festival in Bearsden, where I’d had a press pass and a partnership with the local tourist board. It had been a whirlwind—I really should have suggested an additional day or two, but I knew they were on a tight budget.
As most travelers peeled off to the baggage claim, I slipped through the exit and pulled out my phone. Alex was picking me up from the airport, and I needed to text him which door I was coming out of.
“Nikki!”
I looked up at my name. Alex stood off to the right side, holding a bouquet of flowers and wearing a big smile.
“Hey, honey! What a surprise!” I threw my arms around him, and he carefully wove one hand between me and the backpack to hold me close.
We pulled back just enough for a quick peck before moving out of the way and out toward the parking lot. Alex held my hand tightly, asking how my flight had been and if I was hungry while he navigated the car away from the airport.
Dating Alex had been a balancing act for both of us. He emailed me a list of suggested dates, from a wine tasting to a polo club, which I emailed back with, “I don’t need you to entertain me...in that way.”
We did go out on dates. Lovely nights out where we just talked and enjoyed each other’s company. When I was gone on trips, Alex worked hard, staying late at the office and adjusting his schedule. When I was in town, he got more flexible until we were spending weekends at my house, both of us working on our laptops occasionally but mostly spending our time naked and in bed. Once he’d learned to relax and not try to force things too much, Alex was a bad influence. He was always pulling me back into bed, showing me his affection with physical touch, as well as our quality time together.
Instead of pulling up to the pavement outside my house, Alex parked and followed me up to my door. I checked my watch; it was two o’clock.
“Don’t you need to get back to the office?” I said as I unlocked my door.
“I took the rest of the day off today.”
“Oh?” I slumped my backpack against the entryway and kicked off my shoes. It felt good to be home.
“Yes,” he said, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. “I want to make sure you know how much you mean to me.”
