Absent in the Spring (The Shakespeare Sisters 3)

She nodded, her chest rising and falling with her breaths. ‘The last time you flew in to see me you brought food. I’m just repaying the debt.’

‘You are?’ He was still having problems forming full sentences. She’d stolen those, too.

‘Yeah.’ She was nervous, he could tell by the way she was wringing her fingers together. ‘And the way I see it, apologies always go down better with food.’

His hands clenched and unclenched by his side. He wanted to reach out, to see if she was real. To feel the softness of her skin against his rough fingers, to feel her warmth melting into his own.

‘It’s not much fun eating alone,’ he said. ‘Will you join me?’ He pointed at the seat opposite his.

‘I only ordered one meal.’

‘I can share.’

Her hand shook as she reached for the chair, pulling it out so she could slide onto it. He sat back down, the table between them, and pushed the plate until it was in the middle, close enough for them both to reach. ‘Eat,’ he said.

She took a fry, but didn’t lift it to her mouth. He did the same, still staring at her. He’d forgotten how beautiful she was. How her skin looked like porcelain, the red discs on her cheeks as though they’d been painted by an artist. He knew every plane of that face; the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, the way her sharp cheekbones gave way to the smooth dips below. And then there were her lips – pink, swollen, always so goddamned kissable.

‘I’m not really hungry,’ she confessed, still holding the fry.

‘Why not?’ He frowned.

‘I lost my appetite somewhere across the Atlantic.’

‘You flew in today?’

‘I arrived an hour ago.’

His chest felt full. She managed to ignite every tender emotion it was possible to feel. He wanted to pull her against him, tell her it was going to be okay. He wanted to take care of her, the same way she took care of everybody else. ‘Lucy —’

She lifted her hand up. The fry was still between her fingers. ‘No, please just listen to me for a minute. If I don’t say this now, I might lose my courage.’

He smiled, but said nothing. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her she was the bravest person he knew.

‘I’ve been an idiot,’ she said, letting out a mouthful of air after her words, as if relieved at finally admitting it. ‘I thought that if I could just keep everything under wraps then my family would be okay. But I was wrong. You told me as much yourself. It wasn’t my job to hide secrets from my sisters, and all I did was make things so much worse.’

He bit down hard on the inside flesh of his lip to stop himself from protesting. He was too curious to hear what she had to say to stop her from talking now.

‘And by trying to clear things up, I ended up making things even harder for myself. If I’d have just taken a while to think things through instead of jumping on the first plane home, then I wouldn’t have ended up hurting you,’ she blinked, her long eyelashes sweeping down, ‘and hurting myself at the same time.’ The French fry was still clasped between her fingers. She twisted it, pulling it apart, revealing the fluffy white interior. ‘I fell for you. And I was so scared you didn’t feel the same way that I ran back to London. And then instead of calling you or messaging you straight away, I panicked. I wanted you to be the first one to make a move even though I was the one who walked away.’

‘That’s not true.’ His voice was raspy. ‘I pushed you away. I was the one who told you to leave and never come back.’ He shook his head at his own words. ‘I was a fucking fool, and I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean a word of it.’

He thought of that airplane ticket that Grant was cancelling as they spoke. She was so close to the truth – he was planning to make the first move. Even if it had taken him too long to do it.

Her eyes were soft. ‘I’m sorry, too. For hurting you. I’m sorry for promising to be by your side at the gala and then walking out on you. I’m sorry for hiding and being too scared and too proud to call you when I should have done it straight away.’ She abandoned the fry, wiping her fingers on the napkin, before lifting it to dab at her eyes. ‘And you have no reason to forgive me. God knows, you’ve dealt with enough people letting you down in your life, there’s no reason to have one more.’

‘I forgave

you before you even left the airport,’ he told her, his throat tight. ‘It’s me I’m finding it hard to forgive.’

Wrinkling her nose at the now-cooling plate of food, she glanced up at him. ‘Are you at all hungry?’

He shook his head, still silent.

‘In that case, will you come to my room?’

A rumble of laughter rolled up through his abdomen, escaping his lips in a deep chuckle. ‘Are you trying to pick me up?’ he asked her.

Her eyes widened. ‘Oh God, no. I just wanted to show you something.’ The pink on her cheeks deepened to a vivid red.