STEPH
Iglance up at him with sad eyes, but don’t speak. What is there to say? He’s moving to Australia to be with his girls. My kids are here. I chew on my fingernail. How can we have a relationship on two continents? I know how much a flight to Australia costs, and neither of us has that sort of money to sustain a relationship. He’s not good at long distance. I’d end up hurt again, I just know it. I can’t return to that dark place. My heart just can’t take another rejection from him.
“Thought so.” He runs his hands through his hair and fists it in frustration. “I doubt I’ll ever meet anyone I love as much as you, Steph, but don’t deny me going on a fucking date once in a while when you’re playing happy families with golden balls.”
I cover my face with my hands, so he doesn’t see me ugly cry. My shoulders shake as emotion rocks through me. He moves around the table and slides in beside me, and his hand runs down my spine before pulling me into his chest.
His other hand caresses my cheek. “Baby, don’t cry.” His lips press against the top of my head, and I sob into his t-shirt.
With a muffled voice, I say, “I know it’s unfair of me to expect you not to date. I want you to be happy. I just hate seeing you with anyone else.”
“Welcome to the fucking club.”
“I’m so sorry, Cal.”
He kisses my forehead, then lifts my chin to gaze into my eyes. “Are you gonna let me kiss you properly now, without getting another slap?” He lets out a puff of laughter, and I smile along with him. “Was that a smile?” He pecks my nose, then moves away, wary of my hand. “I want to kiss you, Steph.”
“You can.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to walk through customs with a black eye.”
I wrap my fingers around his neck and press my lips to his. My tongue glides into his mouth in a swirling motion, full of love and sadness from my heart.
His hands move to my cheeks, continuing the caress of his tongue. As he pulls away with small pecks of adoration, he wipes my stained cheeks with his thumb. “This is becoming a habit, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“Me, wiping away tears that I’ve caused.” He presses his warm lips against my cheek, then my nose and my forehead, as if trying to kiss away all my sorrow. “When I saw you on the train. I thought… hoped…maybe you’d left Justin and come to tell me you wanted to be with me.”
“I would never ask you to choose between me or your girls.”
“Why are you here, Steph? I’m glad you are, but what are you doing on the train?”
“I only came to say goodbye, then the train set off. I didn’t mean to stay on, but it was too late.”
He laughs. “That’s so typical of you. Why didn’t you just call me? I would’ve got off the train and caught the next one.”
“You don’t want to risk being late for your flight.”
“But what about you? You’re halfway to London.”
“I know. I’m so stupid. I didn’t even put a parking ticket on the car. I’m gonna get a fine.”
He presses his lips to mine in a slow and tender kiss and with every stroke of his tongue and brush of his lips; I feel all the love this man carries for me.
“Tickets please.”
I pull away from Cal’s embrace as the conductor approaches.
Cal pulls his wallet from his jeans. “I take it you don’t have a ticket either?”
I shake my head. “I was hoping I could get off at the next stop and miss the whole ticket thing.”
Cal hands the conductor his ticket, and with his gift of the gab, explains my situation. The elderly man takes one look at my stained cheeks, sad eyes and general dishevelled appearance and, with pity, lets me off on the understanding I get off at the next stop.
“He must have felt sorry for me. I look so pathetic.”
Cal strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. “Not pathetic, but you do look like a homeless person.”