What the Lightning Sees: Part Three (16 page)

“It’s looking good,” Eric said. He never got excited about anything.

“Good? It’s fucking fantastic.”

Eric grinned and nodded. “We need to start on the sensitivity analysis if this works.”

“I know, but fuck. Awesome.” I banged my fist on the table. Things were going exactly to plan.

My phone vibrated against my leg. I pulled it from my pocket. It was Beth.

“Hey, we just ran the first full simulation with the new data and it’s amazing,” I said, excited.

“All I hear when you talk about work is ‘blah blah blah science.’ Don’t waste your breath on me.”

I chuckled. “Okay. So tell me why you’re bothering me at work?”

“The boxes have arrived and I need to know if you want me to pack anything in the kitchen.”

“I thought the movers were packing? I hope they are because I’m not staying up all night to—”

“Keep your panties on. I’m packing some personal stuff myself but the movers will do it all if you want them to.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. The less I have to do, the better.”

“Everything in my room will go into my apartment, so I’m going to start moving some stuff from the living room and kitchen into my room tonight so it doesn’t get mixed up when they arrive tomorrow.”

“It’s going to be so strange not having to put up with your mess anymore.”

“As if. I’m not messy. You’re the one with the aversion to washing up.”

“Whatever, I want to get back to celebrating our major breakthrough, so I’m hanging up.”

“Oh yes, and Gay Dave called. He wants to talk to you about your Paris pictures or something.”

Tomorrow I’d move out of the apartment I’d lived in for the last decade. I would miss living with Beth but she would only be downstairs. This was good for her. Part of the reason for the move had been the baby but even now, without that motive, I was looking forward to a future that I’d been resisting for too long. With Elemental Energy gaining momentum every day, the next step was the move. Then I’d be ready for the final piece of the puzzle. I couldn’t see myself in the new apartment without Haven, and it was partly why I’d bought it. I knew it wouldn’t work without her. I just had to figure out how to convince her of that.

“Pizza,” I snapped.

“Chinese,” Beth countered.

“It’s like tradition that you have pizza after you’ve moved house. And we can’t order Chinese in the afternoon. It’s wrong.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Okay, as long as I can have garlic bread and ice cream.” She sighed as if she’d just given up her right to free speech.

I ordered the pizza and joined Beth on the sofa.

“This place is beautiful. It looks like somewhere a multi-millionaire would live.”

“It feels like a place I’ll grow into.” I felt more at home here than I’d expected to. Perhaps because Beth was with me. Perhaps because I was excited about what the new apartment meant.

“The only thing it’s missing is a woman’s touch—”

“Don’t get any ideas. I’m keeping the pool table.”

“I wasn’t talking about me, dumbass. I mean you. It’s been over two months since you split with Haven.”

“Yeah, I get it. You’re not subtle.”

“I think you should call her.”

“I got it covered. Leave it with me. I’m not letting her go.”

I hadn’t called her and I hadn’t decided on what I was going to say to her when I did. All I knew was that now I was here, sitting in the apartment she helped me choose, she had to be with me to share it. This was our future, and I wasn’t about to start it without her. My thoughts of her hadn’t lessened. Instead, I found myself imagining our future together, thinking about her hair, the way she looked right before she came. The images got clearer; they’d never dulled.

“You were right,” I said. “I should have fought harder for her. I knew she would try to push me away and when she did, I was so weakened by wanting what was best for her, so confused about everything going on in my own life, I gave in and let her walk away. I should have fought.”

“It’s not too late.”

“It will never be too late.” I smiled. It might be the fight of my life. She could be with someone else, but I didn’t care. I wouldn’t stop until she was here with me. I knew how she felt about me. She might not have said the words, but she loved me and that was worth a fight. And now was as good a time to start as any.

“Where are you going?” Beth asked as I leapt to my feet and grabbed my keys and my phone.

“Dave wants to see me at the gallery, and I have a stop to make first.”

“A stop? What about the pizza?”

“Pizza can wait. Like you said, this place needs a woman’s touch.”

Haven

Getting lost in London was quickly becoming one of my favorite things to do. It was the beginning of my second week working as a freelance writer. I’d contacted various Internet news outlets and one of them had said they would look at an article about sexism in the workplace. I’d barely slept for the last few days as I dug up as much background as I could on the subject. I was more excited about writing than I had been in years.

To get myself out of my flat, a few times a week I had taken the first bus that came along, and got off at a random stop and found myself a café to work in. I enjoyed the freedom of it. Today I’d ended up in Chelsea.

I found myself a seat outside an uber-cool coffee house, ordered a drink and opened my laptop. I sat back as my computer booted up and I watched the world go by. It was a busy street, and I took in the shoppers paused at windows and delivery drivers unloading their packages. Everyone had a role to play. To the left of me, there was someone busying away on their BlackBerry, and to the right a group of three women having a catch up over coffee. I smiled. It felt good that this was my place of work.

Jake was never far from my mind, but I pushed him back into my memories whenever he escaped. It was too painful to think about him for long and I was sure the pain would consume me, pull me under like a riptide. I had to hold that in—I wasn’t ready to deal with that yet. I wasn’t sure if I ever would be. I hoped he was happy. If I could have done things over, I would have fought harder for him. Millie might be having his baby, but I knew I could make him happy. He loved me, and I should have trusted that.

I pulled my attention back to my laptop and began to type.

Two drained coffee cups and a half-eaten sandwich later, it started to rain lightly. The hours had slipped by. I gathered up my things, left money for my coffee and headed back to the bus stop. As I was about halfway down the street, my phone began to buzz in my bag. I stopped and dug it out.

It was Ash.

“Hey.” As I answered, I lifted my head and found myself staring into a familiar art gallery window. It looked like the place Jake’d had his exhibition.

“Hi, what are you doing? Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” Ash asked.

I stood back slightly to see the name of the gallery painted above the awning. I was sure it was the one. I squinted through the glass, past the painting hanging in the window to see if I could spot anything familiar.

“Haven?” Ash said.

“Ash, I’m going to have to call you back.” Without waiting for a response, I hung up. Was that Jake’s picture of the bridge?

It felt like the riptide was calling to me. I couldn’t not go inside. The urge to be near a piece of Jake overwhelmed my need to prevent myself from breaking down.

I pushed the door open. A small bell rang and I stepped through the entrance, going immediately to the picture of the bridge. It was just as beautiful as I’d remembered it. I stood staring at it for long minutes before my attention was drawn to the picture next to it. I hadn’t seen it before but the scene seemed familiar. It was of a cobbled street, full of people, cafes and street musicians. You could hear the noises from it, feel the atmosphere. I leaned closer to read the description printed on the information card, next to the photograph. It read “Jake Harrison, Falling in Love in
Ile de la Cité
”. The words struck me like a thunderbolt and my legs weakened.

“I could get you a discount if you’re interested. I know the photographer,” a voice said from behind me. My breath caught as my legs started to collapse from under me.

“Hey.”

I felt Jake’s hands on me, steadying me.

“Are you okay? Come sit.”

I couldn’t look up. I couldn’t see it was him, confirm what I knew was happening. If I did, I would be sure to crumble into pieces.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I sat down. “Too much coffee.” I slid my hands over my face to delay the inevitable sight of him.

He knelt in front of me and wrapped his hands around my wrists, gently uncovering my face. I didn’t have the strength to fight him. I dropped my hands, and we locked eyes and my heart actually stopped.

“Are you okay?” he asked again.

I shook my head. I wasn’t okay. Seeing him was the worst thing that could have happened. The walls I’d built around my thoughts came crashing down and I allowed myself to properly experience the grief of losing him.

He stood abruptly. He was angry at me, and I couldn’t blame him.

“Dave, I’m going. I’ll speak to you later.” I heard a voice respond and then Jake was back, his hands on my back. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

I stood as Jake guided me out of the gallery. His car was just outside and he helped me in and fastened my seatbelt for me. I was helpless, unable to do the most basic things.

As we drove, I was aware of Jake alternating his gaze between me and the road.

“Should I call Ash?” he asked. “Or Luke?”

I shook my head. “I’m so sorry.” My throat was tight. Being so close to him made my loss all the more acute. I’d missed his smell, his hands, the way he took care of me.

“Don’t be sorry. Tell me what’s wrong.”

I dropped my head into my hands and I tried to concentrate on not crying. We spent the rest of the journey in silence.

“I thought we were going back home? To my place?” I asked as he parked on an unfamiliar street.

“Yeah,” he said. “We are.”

I didn’t get a chance to ask him why we were making a pit stop as he swiftly exited the car, rounded the hood and opened the passenger door.

“Come on,” he said and he held out his hand to help me out of the car.

Where were we? Maybe it did look familiar, but I didn’t know why. He led me though large double doors into a lobby with a black slate floor and a security guard behind a shiny chrome desk. I’d been here before.

“I want to show you something,” he said as he led me into the elevator. I stared at my toes, trying to keep everything inside and contained. Trying to keep myself from crumbling into small pieces. I didn’t have spare energy to ask him where he was taking me.

I followed him out of the elevator. We were in an apartment block. He fiddled with some keys and opened a large door, holding it open wide and ushering me inside a darkened hallway. The walls were dark grey panels of silk surrounded by an edge of light. Where were we?

At the end of the hallway, I saw the view and realized where we were. We’d been to this place before, he and I.

“Sit down and let me get you some water,” he said as I stumbled between boxes toward the sofa and the huge window.