Page 46 of The Retreat

The main course arrived: roasted duck breast with a glaze so shiny you could check your teeth in it.

The conversation at the table swirled around them, people laughing, sharing stories of their own awkward or hilarious couple moments. It was fun and light-hearted, everyone bonding over shared experiences.

But for Imogen, the further the conversation went, the more uncomfortable it became. Every word was bringing the problem closer to the surface. She felt as though she might explode.

But the evening couldn’t last forever. Theoretically.

And tomorrow, Talia could drop her off and never see her again. They would have no cause to cross paths.

Because the moment had passed.

She’d tried. She had tried to open a door, just a crack. But Talia hadn’t walked through. Maybe she hadn’t even noticed the door existed. Or maybe she had and chose not to. Imogen didn’t know which was worse.

Rhona came over from the other end of the table. ‘It’s very dull where I’m sat, so I’m seeking refuge.’

Talia budged up enough to create a Rhona-sized gap. ‘Please. Sit.’

Rhona sat. ‘I hope the conversation at this part of the table is a bit more scintillating. Daniel keeps trying to talk to me about work.’

‘I bet he is,’ Celeste said, glancing at Talia. She didn’t exactly wink at her, but she might as well have. Talia gave her a knowing look back.

Imogen was happy this was going so well for her. She deserved to win over Daniel. Imogen wasn’t sure of much, but she knew that was true. You didn’t have to spend ten minutes with him to know he was a bell-end. Talia was worth a hundred of him.

‘Oh, um, we were talking about relationships,’ Celeste said, a touch nervously. ‘But we’re done now.’

Rhona smiled dryly. ‘Oh, don’t mind the widow. I can handle a bit of young romance.’

There was a nervous laugh at the table.

‘So, you two have been together how long now?’ she asked Talia and Imogen.

‘It’s been... what, a year?’ Talia said, the smile on her face stiff.

‘Alex, tell her the story of how you met,’ Marcus practically exploded. ‘You’ll die, Rhona.’

Oh god, not again. Why couldn’t Imogen keep this bloody story in her head? It was like water through a sieve.

Talia cleared her throat nervously. ‘Um, Alex, could I tell it this time?’

Imogen smiled, relieved. ‘You tell it better, anyway.’

‘Thanks,’ Talia said, lifting her glass and taking a rather big swallow.

Imogen thought that was odd, the nerves in that action. She’d wanted to tell the story. Why was she scared?

Talia began. As she told it, Imogen remembered quickly how it went. The accident, the trip to A&E. Joking about how Imogen had been unimpressed with her charm. The group laughed right on cue.

Imogen watched her performance, trying not to feel sad. Trying not to imagine how it might have been if any of this were real.

But then something shifted. It wasn’t dramatic, just a softening in Talia’s voice. A slowing down.

‘She said I was lucky,’ Talia said, her tone gentler now. ‘That I could’ve hit the kerb wrong, fractured something worse. I barely heard her. I was too busy trying to find a segue to ask her out.’

Still smooth, still charming, but something in the delivery made Imogen blink. She looked at her properly now and realised Talia wasn’t playing to the room anymore. Her eyes were on Imogen. Not for long. But just long enough.

‘She didn’t flirt back, of course,’ Talia went on. ‘Too professional for that. But I left a note the next day. I thought… what the hell? If she doesn’t reply, I’ll take the hit. But she did.’

Talia’s voice dipped lower. Like this bit wasn’t for the room.

‘That drink turned into dinner. And then...’ She paused. ‘I don’t know. I don’t want to get soppy about it, but she made me feel—’ A brief laugh escaped her, but there was no mask in it this time. She reached over with a shaky breath that only Imogen could hear and softly took her hand. ‘She made me feel things I didn’t think I remembered how to. I don’t know how I got lucky enough to meet her, but I’m glad I did.’

OK, that part was new.

Talia looked at Imogen for a moment, and then her eyes slid away nervously to Imogen’s hand. ‘It was worth a bad thing happening to me. To get here. With her.’ She paused. ‘With you.’

Imogen couldn’t breathe.

It wasn’t a story anymore. This was something else. A confession dressed up as a joke, and then slowly, carefully, not a joke at all.

Talia caught her eyes again and didn’t look away this time.

For the first time all night, Imogen forgot to keep her expression in check. She stared back at Talia, and suddenly the room was empty except for her.

Because Talia meant it. Imogen knew it. She just knew it.

Talia’s colleagues smiled warmly at them. No one aware of the emotional maelstrom swirling beneath the surface.

‘That’s so sweet,’ Celeste said, holding up her wineglass. ‘It’s obvious you two are meant to be.’

Imogen turned to Talia and smiled with all the sincerity she was allowed in this strange, shapeshifting moment. ‘I wasn’t sure if it made sense at first. But we just clicked,’ she said quietly. ‘Like I’ve never clicked with anyone.’

She leaned in before she could second-guess herself and kissed her. A soft brush of lips, almost chaste. But Talia didn’t hesitate. She met her halfway, closing that sliver of distance with something sure and open and warm.

It lasted no more than a second. But it was enough. Enough to short-circuit Imogen’s thoughts, to make her pulse spike.

It was electric. And so fucking real.

‘Aww,’ Marcus said, a little too loudly.

Imogen barely heard him. She was looking into Talia’s eyes. And Talia was looking right back.