Page 78 of Hate You to Love You

‘We had a time and place to meet right before the Edinburgh tour officially started,’ she finally says, getting up from her chair and moving slowly towards the window. ‘But he never showed up. In the beginning, I wondered if it was because he had changed his mind and truly believed that I’d changed for the worse. It wasn’t until I saw on the news that a pedestrian had been killed while rushing out of Waverley Station that I knew what had happened. Stephen died on his way to see me. It was my fault.’

‘And that’s why you cancelled the rest of the tour,’ I say, as the weight of Claudia’s revelation hits me.

‘I couldn’t go out there and talk about the book when I had caused the death of the person I’d written it for.’

‘Claudia, it wasn’t your fault,’ I interject softly.

‘I’ve told myself that. But my mind keeps going back to all the decisions I made in the lead-up to that point. He was only there because of me. If I never called him that day in Dublin, or if I’d just been honest with him years before, he wouldn’t have been crossing that street that day.’

My heart breaks for her. ‘You can look back to the past and think of all the ways you would have done things differently, but it won’t change anything. And I know that this will always feel heavy, but you have to forgive yourself. It doesn’t mean you’ll miss him less, but maybe it won’t hurt so much to move forward. All you can do is carry him with you, wherever you go.’ I smile softly, remembering something my dad once told me. ‘E.E. Cummings would say you already carry his heart with yours.’

Claudia’s eyes fill with tears.

Leaning forward, I put my notebook and phone to the side. I press stop on my recording app and forget about the interview for a minute.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I tell her.

She gives me a forced smile. ‘Yes, well, there you have it.’

‘I know we’re not close, but I know what it’s like to lose someone you love—’

‘You should go,’ she says. ‘We’ve got a big day at the festival tomorrow. And I imagine you’ve got a lot to think about for your article.’

We sit in silence for a moment, and I can sense that Claudia needs some time to herself.

‘Of course.’ I get up and collect my things. Before I walk out the door I turn back to her. ‘Thank you for sharing that with me.’

But she’s already left the room.

As I stumble back onto the street, I zip my coat and think about everything Claudia has just told me. About how long she has lived with the guilt over losing the person she loved the most. About how she regretted not telling him her feelings sooner…

I picture Elliot, back in Sydney, but not in my life anymore. I can’t let us end up like that. So, I scrap my plans for The Writers’ Museum and dinner at Greyfriars Bobby’s Bar. Instead, I rush back to the hotel with only one thing on my mind: Elliot.

I hesitate before knocking on the door of Elliot’s room. The rest of my life rests on what happens after Elliot opens this door. If he even answers.

But whatever the answer is, I’m ready for it. Because at least I’ll know where I stand.

When Elliot opens the door, he’s wearing plaid pyjama bottoms, a wrinkled white tee and his hair ruffled and messy.

‘Carlos?’ he asks, his voice rough as if he has just woken up from a nap.

Nerves send my breathing rapidly out of control. ‘I was wrong.’

‘What is going on?’ he rubs his eyes, blinking himself awake.

‘I thought that it would be easier not having you in my life, because it meant I wouldn’t get hurt again. But I was wrong. I’d rather take my chances and risk losing you all over again.’

His mouth drops down.

‘Elliot?’

‘You’re not the only one who’s scared,’ he says, his voice almost a whisper.

I hold out my hand towards him. ‘Then let’s be scared together. But I want to do this if you do.’

He keeps his eyes on me as he takes my hand. He steps forward, and so do I. We’re moving slowly, but the adrenaline rush I get from being this close to him again makes it feels like we’re moving at the speed of light. And as if the weight of our past is pulling us back together, we lean into each other, our lips meeting. He kisses me gently, his skin soft against mine. But it’s a kiss that feels like fireworks in my heart.

Suddenly, Elliot pulls away. ‘You’re sure?’ he asks nervously.