Page 38 of Falling for You

Nate

It’s like I’ve stepped into a fairy tale.

The sky is white with thick, silent snow falling around us like powder and sitting on top of the sidewalk like icing sugar.

All the noise I could hear earlier of cars, clinking pint glasses and laughter has vanished.

It’s like it’s only me and Annie left in the world, making our way down yet another street full of cottages with thatched roofs and square windows, sparkling yellow with the life and light of everyone inside them.

And then there’s Annie. I couldn’t believe it when I turned around and there she was.

I’d been stood on the platform for hours, silently panicking.

My train had been cancelled, as had the ones before and after it, and my phone was playing a game of cat and mouse with the single bar of signal it managed to pick up all day.

There were no Ubers around, and the taxi office at the front of the station was closed.

I was paralysed, trying to work out whether it was better to wander back down into the town and see if a pub would take me in for the night, Mary and Joseph style, or to stay put in the hope that a train may turn up or someone who ran the taxi rank.

Basically, I was waiting for a miracle. And that’s when Annie showed up.

With everything that has happened this week with Mom and Stevie, I’d almost forgotten how it felt to be around Annie.

How I felt lighter, freer, a bit brighter.

My smile was bigger, always waiting to grow on my face, my eyes constantly looking for her.

I can’t believe I didn’t message her again. Why didn’t I message her?

But it doesn’t matter now. Even though she’s saving me from sleeping on a bench in the snow, I’ve ruined it. Someone like Annie doesn’t need to be with a flake like me. She deserves someone who knows how brilliant she is.

Well, I know how brilliant she is. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.

She catches my eye and laughs. ‘Will you stop it?’

I can’t help it, I laugh too. ‘Stop what?’

‘Looking at me like that.’ She pushes her hands into her pockets. ‘I can see you.’

‘Sorry. I’ll play it cool.’ I force myself to look forward. She steals a glance at me and I can’t help it, I look at her again. We both laugh and she pushes me with her elbow.

‘I bet this is your dream,’ she says, and for a moment I’m about to spill out that yes, this is exactly like my dream, until I realise that she’s talking about our picturesque surroundings. ‘You don’t get more quintessentially British than the Cotswolds.’

‘You’re right,’ I say. ‘That’s why I came here for the day. I can’t believe you grew up here, you’re so lucky.’

Another wave of snow sprays us both in the face and we wince. The snowflakes stick to my eyelashes and I notice the tip of Annie’s nose has turned pink.

‘Go on, then,’ she says.

‘What?’

‘Tell me what the fantasy is.’ She grins at me. ‘I want to know what your perfect British life would be and how realistic it actually is. You do know that we don’t all have magic umbrellas or eat marmalade sandwiches?’

‘I hope not,’ I say, giving her a look. ‘Marmalade is disgusting.’ She laughs and I scan along the street.

At the end, there’s a house set further back than the others.

It has a small garden path with stones leading the way like lily pads up to the cottage made of warm, golden stone, and strings of ivy weaving around towards the uneven tiled roof. It looks just like the Holiday house.

‘This,’ I say, nodding towards the house. ‘I’d live somewhere like this. I’d be happy—’

‘And in love?’

I feel a warm glow in my chest. ‘Of course. Isn’t life a bit better when you’re in love?’

Annie snorts and I look round at her. ‘Sorry,’ she says, trying to hide her smile. ‘I just don’t know if I can deal with how cheesy you are. You’re like a cartoon character.’

‘Maybe I’m just saying what everyone else is too cool to say.’ I raise my eyebrows at her and she cocks her head.

‘Go on, then,’ she says. ‘What’s in this house? A wife?’

‘Yup,’ I nod, pushing my face further into my scarf. ‘Some kids. A big study filled with books.’

‘Sounds nice. A sewing machine?’

I smile. ‘Yeah, of course. A whole room full of clothes and fabrics and … needles. I don’t know, whatever you need to sew.’

She laughs. ‘A fire?’

‘Definitely, and a big dining table.’

‘And a cat?’

‘No.’ I scrunch up my face. ‘A dog.’

‘Ah.’ She kicks a patch of snow and pulls a face of mock disappointment. ‘You’ve lost me there, I’m afraid.’

‘Who said you were invited?’ I tease.

‘Wasn’t I?’ She gives me a knowing look.

I smile and shake my head. ‘I think you belong there with me. Who else will keep the room with the sewing machine alive?’

She nods and points over a small bridge. ‘My parents’ house is just over here.’

I smile, tucking my hands into my pockets.

What I don’t say is: who else would I be in love with?