Page 82 of From Now On

The days pass slowly. Charlie hangs on to the hope that somehow he and Pippa will fall back into their friendship. He gives her the space she needs, deleting the heartfelt texts he regularly composes rather than sending them. Drags himself away from her door whenever he finds himself poised to knock on it. His heart hurts, he spends as much of his time gazing out of the window like a lovesick teenager hoping for a glimpse of her as he does writing.

The cursor on the blank screen winks on and off, taunting him.

It’s impossible for Charlie to focus on his manuscript. How can he write about being brave and taking chances when, next door, Pippa is preparing to leave, and he is letting her?

Desolate, he types another sad sentence and then immediately deletes it,wishing he could write his own ending to the story of his life. His own happily ever after.

Charlie folds Duke’s magic cape after he’s left for school. For the past two weeks Duke has practised his act and although he hasn’t exactly nailed it, it isn’t the disaster it was. He’s performed to his ‘audience’ each night, Charlie clapping enthusiastically, Billie looking bemused, Nina glued to her phone, watching something on YouTube.

Charlie thinks Duke will be okay. Better than Charlie is doing right now. The scant sightings of Pippa entering and leaving her house haven’t been enough. He knows he’s being selfish but he cannot bear it any longer.

He texts her,

Hey

And waits, and waits. He’s made the first move, now it has to be up to her.

It’s another hour before the doorbell rings. Charlie opens the door. His breath catches in his throat.

Pippa stands on the doorstep, uncertain and afraid, and he feels a desperate hope begin to swell inside of him until she begins to speak.

‘I’ve just brought back a few things you left at mine.’ She holds out a bag but Charlie knows that really she is holding out her heart. Offering him one last chance. He sees it in her eyes.

‘Come in. Please.’ He steps backwards and takes the bag from her.

‘I think we’ve said all there is to say, don’t you?’ Her arms are crossed; she’s hugging herself, whether to keep her emotions inside or to keep Charlie’s out he does not know.

She begins to turn and a cold, sharp fear grips him.

‘Wait. Please.’

She shrugs as though it doesn’t matter to her either way but she steps inside, the corners of her mouth flickering into a brief smile as Billie bounds to greet her.

Pippa sits at the kitchen. Outside of the window, heavy clouds threaten rain once more. He fills the kettle, spoons coffee into mugs, ‘I’ve really missed you these past couple of weeks. I’m glad you popped round,’ he says but when he turns, Pippa is on her feet, heading back down the hallway. He races after her.

‘Popped round?I can’t do this,’ she says. The expression on her face is disbelief but more than that. Charlie has never seen her look so hurt. ‘Ican’tjust have a casual coffee as though we are friends. We arenotfriends, Charlie.’

‘I know.’ And he does know this because if she were just a friend he wouldn’t have the fierce desire to cup her face in his hands, to lower his lips to hers. Unable to fight the urge, this is what he does now.

The kiss sates his soul the way that water quenches an endless thirst. It is nourishing, life-affirming.

Perfect.

‘Charlie?’ Her voice is a broken whisper as she pulls away. His name a question.

He can’t give her answer, can’t promise her a future. There is only here and now. This. He lifts her into his arms, carries her upstairs, lays her on his bed.

There’s an urgency as they undress each other, Pippa yanks his T-shirt over his head, he pulls down her jeans. He wants to be on her, in her. She wraps her legs around his waist, her nails digging into his shoulders as she cries his name.

It is over quickly. Too quickly.

Charlie hugs her tightly to him, feels her cheek press against his chest. He wonders if she can feel his heart and whether she knows every beat is for her. He wants her again.

Slowly, he begins to kiss her as though they’ve got all the time in the world, although they both know that they haven’t.

Later, Pippa sleeps peacefully in a way Charlie thinks she has not slept in days judging by the black bags that circle her eyes. She feels safe, held by him. He knows this because he feels it too. That security.

He is tired, exhausted by emotion, but he can’t stop thinking.

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