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He made a noise of disagreement.
“I did. I was tall and didn’t know what was trendy and wore awful clothes. But after a while I realized no one had anything figured out. That’s when I began to find my place here. To know who I was. People liked me. They valued me at work. I had friends who were in my same boat, broke and eating noodles in a cup and were behind on whatever classes they were taking.”
She waved at an acquaintance across the river who motionedCall meandDrinks. She nodded, but already knew she wouldn’t be staying long enough to do it.
She had outgrown her life here. Zermatt had been her chrysalis. It was time to break free and become something bigger. But what? A backpacking explorer? An innkeeper in Greece? A CEO in a global chain of hotels?
A divorcée?
“That’s good news about DVE,” she said, testing the waters. “Congratulations.”
“I don’t care about that.” His voice was hard. His expression altered into something softer as he met her surprised gaze. “I care aboutyou, Stella.” He swore and ran his hand over his face. “Do you have any idea how sick I felt that I let you go home alone? Even before this happened?” He motioned at her arm.
“You ‘let’ me?” She paused on the bridge to watch the water travel under her feet. “I came here the first time because I was tired of asking permission to live my own life.”
“I let yougo,” he stressed. “I pushed you away and let you think I didn’t care. I hated myself the minute you were out of my sight, but I thought I was doing the right thing.” His tone turned contrite. “How could you love me if I hated myself? I was saving you.”
“I don’t need saving, Atlas. I know how to save myself.”
“I know.” He leaned his hip next to her and covered her hand, stroking her cool knuckles where they were exposed by the plaster of her splint. “It’s something I admire so deeply in you. I hope you know that?”
She swallowed, so moved she teared up.
“What I really wanted to say was no, you can’t go. Stay in London while I’m in that meeting because I need you. You, Stella. Not a wife.You. I thought if I told you I love you, it would be coercion. Emotional blackmail. I didn’t feel I deserved your love. I still don’t.” He scowled to the other side of the bridge. “Not when I’m hoping that telling you I love you will bring you back to me.”
“It’s not coercion if it’strue. Is it?” she asked with a streak of hope jolting her heart.
“It’s as real inside me as air and blood and bone,” he said with quiet heat. “It’s so all-encompassing, saying the words isn’t enough. But if loving you means giving you your independence…” He swallowed. His gaze filled with agony. “I’ll find a way to do that.”
As she looked into eyes that wanted to hand her the world even when it would cost his soul, she saw the bigger sky and the broader universe she could fly into. The love in his eyes filled her with a sense of expansion, one that made her turn and set her good hand on his jaw.
“What if knowing you love me makes me feel free to be exactly who I am? What if I believe you’ll support me no matter what, and that makes me feel so big and powerful, I can do anything?”
His features relaxed into tenderness. Admiration. Intense joy. He cupped her face.
“What if holding you up makes me feel stronger? What if all that light inside you chases my shadows away?”
“What if we’re better together?”
“More than we would be on our own.” He nodded. “I believe we could be. Do you?”
“I do.” She said it with as much solemn conviction as the first time she’d said those words to him.
She didn’t know what their future looked like, but she already knew it would be wide and wonderful.
They kissed softly, keeping it chaste because they were in public, but it still had the impact of a thousand volts of wildly pulsing electricity. It still made her eyes sting and her heart feel too big for her chest.
“Do you want to go to my flat?” she asked.
“I’ll go anywhere with you. I thought I just made that clear.”
She’d never seen such a lighthearted gleam in his eye. They both smiled all the way to her building and held hands up the stairs.
“I like to claim I live in the penthouse,” she said of her studio apartment, since it was tucked into the rafters at the peak of the block, with only one neighbor across the landing.
“Should we keep it as a love nest?” He moved around the tiny space, taking in the childish art that the twins had made at different times, the photo of her and Beate, the framed diploma that proved she had a degree and— He frowned. “Why is there a man’s bicycle on your balcony?”
“Because I’m too tall for the ones that are marketed to women. Elijah thinks it sends a message that I don’t live alone.”