I leave work a little over an hour later, having spent that time in Vicky’s office talking and drinking whiskey.
I feel a little lighter after the chat, and a lot lighter after the whiskey, and now I’m more than ready to see Jake.
Eight hours to go.
As I push out of the glass doors of my building, the cool air hits my skin, and the lightness, kindly provided by Jim Beam, unfortunately, starts to lift.
Taking a right, I turn to head toward the Tube station for home.
“Tru?”
Pausing, I turn around to see Will standing about twenty yards away from me.
He’s dressed in blue jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. He looks like he hasn’t shaved in a while, and I can see the bruising left from his fight with Jake around his eye. I hate that they fought because of me.
He looks different, but still handsome. Just Will. The Will I loved – love.
I feel a sudden pang for him. The intensity of it surprises me.
“Will? What-what are you doing here?” I try to recover myself from the shock of just seeing him here in the street.
“Sorry I just–” he takes a step forward.
“Have you followed me?” I ask.
That sounded really conceited. I wish I could take it back.
“No,” he answers softly. “I’d just popped into work to drop something off, and I saw you go into your building. I just … I wanted to talk to you, so I hung around and waited.” He pushes his hands deep in his pockets. “I called you … left messages but you never called me back.”
“I’m sorry.” I hug my bag to my side. “I just didn’t think it was a good idea to talk then, you were angry … rightly so and I didn’t want to make things worse for you.”
“How are you?” He takes another step closer.
“I’m okay.” I tuck my hair nervously behind my ear. “How are you?”
“Oh, you know.” He shrugs, and runs his hand through his lovely blonde hair. It looks all mussed up. Very un-Will. It suits him.
His eyes meet with mine.
He looks nervous and sad. My heart is aching seeing him here standing before me looking this way.
This is what I’ve done to him.
“Do you have time to have a coffee?” he asks.
“Um…”
“I mean if you too busy, I understand.”
“I’m not too busy. Of course I’ll have coffee with you.” I smile.
He smiles too. It’s nice to see. I’ve missed his lovely smile.
I’ve missed him. I just didn’t realise how much until now.
“Shall we go to Callo’s?” he asks.
“Yes, lets.”
We walk side by side in relative silence for the five minute walk to Callo’s.
When we arrive, Will holds the door open for me. I walk into the café, the aroma of coffee hitting me straight away, and memories, so many memories.
This was our place. We always had lunch together here.
It’s sad being here with him now, like this, apart. I guess I never thought there would be a day that I would ever be without Will.
As it’s early Callo’s is empty, only Will and I here, so we get a small table by the window and order two lattes.
“Are you not in work today?” I ask, at a vain attempt in small talk, while we wait for our drinks.
“No,” he shakes his head. “I took a little time off after I got back from Paris – you know.”
I bite my lip. I can feel tears forming in my eyes, but I don’t want to cry in front of him. I don’t deserve the right to cry.
I knot my fingers on the table in front of me. Taking a deep breath, I say, “I’m so sorry, Will. For everything. For the pain I’ve caused you”
He meets my eyes, and all I can see in them is hurt. And I can’t help the tear that escapes from my eye.
I quickly catch it falling.
“Tru, that day … when I pushed you away in the hall and you fell … I didn’t hurt you did I?” He sounds tormented.
After everything I have done to him, and he still cares whether he hurt me or not.
It makes my heart hurt more.
Another tear drops. “No, of course you didn’t,” I shake my head.
“I saw the papers,” he utters quietly. “You … and Jake.”
I close my eyes briefly.
“Are you happy?” he asks.
“Yes … and no. I’m not happy for what I’ve done to you. I’m so sorry, Will.” Tears are running freely from my eyes now, and I don’t care who sees.
I can see Will’s eyes shining, but he’s holding himself together.
“I hate myself for what I did to you.” I wipe the dripping tears from my chin with the back of my hand.
“I don’t hate you, Tru. I wanted to, but I can’t … I love you too much.”
I bite my trembling lip.
I never deserved this wonderful man here, before me, in the first place. And I most certainly don’t deserve him now.