“If Sophie hadn’t broken it off, or if she’d changed her mind, we would have been related,” Abby said with a little smile. “Or really, I suppose, I’d never have been born.”
“I don’t like to think of that.” He reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers one by one, a deliberate act.
Abby’s heart caught in her chest, like someone had thrown it at a wall. She didn’t know what was coming, didn’t even know what she wanted to hear. I really like you, but… It’s been fun, hasn’t it? Or maybe just I’m sorry I have to go so soon.
“Abby.”
She made herself look at him and smile. “Yes.”
“I don’t want this to end here.”
Surprised by his certainty, she could only stare for a moment as she tried to collect her scattered thoughts. “But you live in England,” she finally managed. “And my life—my life still is at Willow Tree.” Even if she was only just starting to imagine that it might not be always. Or at least not just. But that was too far into the future to think about now, or to pin hazy hopes on it.
“I know. I’m not saying it will be easy.”
“What are you saying, then?”
“I don’t know.” He let out a little laugh, endearing in its uncertainty. “I’m saying I want to see you again. You could visit me in Cambridge. Meet Maggie.”
Surprised, she eased back a little. “You want me to meet Maggie?”
“Maybe. I called her last night. I’ve been WhatsApping her this whole time, but she’s never responded. But I realized that’s a bit like cheating, the coward’s way out, to just send a text. So I rang and she answered and we talked for twenty awkward and rather excruciating minutes, but in the end it was okay. I think. Sort of?” He gave her a lopsided smile, pain shining in his eyes. None of this was easy. Tha
t was why it hadn’t happened before. “I spoke to Sara, too, about stepping up a bit more. She liked the idea.”
“That’s wonderful, Simon.”
“And us?” He prompted. “If you think there could be an us, even if just one day?”
She stared down at their joined hands, her mind doing somersaults. “I don’t know,” she said slowly.
Simon wilted a little, although he tried to rally. “I understand.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she explained. “It’s not that at all. It’s just…” Things still felt fragile with her dad. And Willow Tree was her home. And even though she was trying, trying so hard, to make changes in her life, could she really do this? Did she want to risk what she’d only just started to have for something neither of them was ready to name? “I don’t even have a passport.”
“It’s quite easy to get one. Just fill out a form.”
She smiled at that. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do.”
What if she went to Cambridge, and whatever they’d shared here didn’t transfer? What if she came for a week or even two, and they remained awkward strangers the whole time, exchanging rather shamefaced smiles as they realized they really didn’t have anything in common after all, and it had just been one of those intense holiday things?
“Just think about it,” Simon said, and squeezed her hand.
SIMON
He left three days later, three glorious days he’d spent with Abby, on the farm, in town, and even another memorable lumberjack platter at the cook shanty. The last night, they’d had dinner with David, and Simon was gratified that the old man actually made an effort. It was awkward rather than easy, but it was the attempt that was important.
But none of it still felt settled as he said his goodbyes on the weathered porch where he’d first made her acquaintance, what felt like a lifetime ago, when he’d seen the pain in her eyes and wondered at it. Three short and yet endless weeks. He couldn’t believe he was already going back, even as he felt he’d been here for ages.
“This doesn’t have to be goodbye,” she reminded him as she nervously tucked her hair behind her ears, Bailey sitting loyally by her feet. “Not a final one, anyway. We can just say ‘see you later’, and give a wave.”
“I don’t want to give a wave.”
“You know what I mean—” Abby was cut off as he kissed her, pulling her close, reveling in the feel of her against him. Her eyes closed and his did too, and the kiss went on, a wish and a keepsake, and hopefully more than that. A promise.
He wanted to tell her that he was falling in love with her, that he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of holding her like this, but he suspected those were the kinds of sentiments he didn’t think either of them were ready for. The last few weeks had been wonderful and intense and yet also fragile.