Lucy in the Sky

I see you here, in this amazing flat with this great job and lovely friends—’
    ‘And let’s not forget James,’ I say, before I can stop myself.
    ‘As if I could.’
    We fall silent for a moment.
    Eventually I speak. ‘What about you? You’re going back to Sydney in two and a half weeks. Surely you wouldn’t consider staying on?’
    ‘Even if I could delay my flight for a bit, where would that leave us? I’d still want to go back home eventually. I miss the beaches. I miss the surfing. I miss my brother–he’s the closest family I have.’
    ‘My mum is the closest family I have,’ I reply quietly.
    ‘I know! And I’m sorry. It’s a bloody nightmare.’
    ‘I don’t even know how you feel about me.’
    ‘Yes, you do.’ He holds my gaze. ‘Yes, you do.’
    My heart pounds in my chest. ‘James will be back from work soon,’ I say finally.
    ‘I should be going, then.’ He stands up, while I stay seated. Oh, God, I don’t want to let him leave. But I have to.
    ‘What are you doing for Christmas?’ I blurt as he reaches the door, trying to delay his departure. Is this it? The moment I let him walk out of my life for good?
    ‘Just spending it with Richard and Ally and everyone at the house. None of us has any family over here, so, you know…’
    ‘Well, I hope you have a good one,’ is all I can muster. Please don’t leave. Please.
    ‘You too.’ He smiles sadly. ‘Maybe we’ll catch up when you get back? Before I fly home?’
    ‘Maybe.’ Let him go, Lucy. Let him go.
    He opens the door and pauses for a moment to look back at me. Oh, God, no! He starts to walk through, then stops suddenly, and gets something out of his pocket.
    ‘You forgot your tape…after the funeral,’ he says, placing it on a shelf.
    And then he’s gone.
    ‘Nathan! Wait!’ I run towards the door, open it and pull him back inside. And then he’s kissing me, up against the wall, pressing his lips to mine, and I never, ever want him to stop.
    Finally he tears himself away, rough hands still holding my face. He bends down and kisses me again, slower this time, touching his lips to my jaw, my neck and back to my mouth again. I slide my hands up inside his jumper and feel his taut, toned stomach. I know I have to stop. It takes all the willpower in me to pull gently away. I lean back on the wall and he rests against the door, watching me, breathing heavily.
    ‘What now?’ he asks and we both smile guiltily.
    ‘Whoops,’ I say.
    ‘Bugger,’ he replies.
    Then we become serious.
    ‘Oh, God,’ I say. ‘This has just become a whole lot more complicated.’ I try to curse my head for letting my heart get one over it.
    He pulls me to him and wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly for a minute.
    ‘I’m sorry this is such a mess,’ he says into my hair. ‘But I don’t want to lose you.’
    ‘No, I’m the one who’s sorry.’ I pull away. ‘It’s over with James. I’ll speak to him tonight. It will be okay.’ I will myself to believe it.
    But as soon as he’s gone I realise more profoundly than ever what a complete and utter fuck-up I’ve got myself into.
    When James comes home half an hour later, I’m sitting on the sofa, absent-mindedly fingering Nathan’s Concorde charm, totally caught up in my thoughts.
    ‘Hi!’ He grins at me as he takes off his jacket. ‘Changed your mind?’ he asks, noticing both the full mug of cold coffee on the table and the glass of wine in my hand.
    ‘Mmm,’ I nod.
    ‘What’s up?’ he says when he sees my expression.
    ‘We need to talk,’ I say sadly, and his face freezes in fear as he sits down on the sofa.
    ‘I can’t do this anymore, James. I’m sorry.’
    ‘Lucy, what are you saying?’ he asks nervously, eyeing the silver charm in my hand.
    I’ve made up my mind. Nathan understands me, he ‘gets’ me, he loves me. I know it will be a rocky road for us; he’s going home soon and that thought fills me with sickness and dread, but I can’t let him leave without giving us a try. I want to be with him. In every sense of the word.
    ‘It’s Nathan,’ I tell James.
    ‘What about him?’
    ‘I love him.’ I have to be honest. No more secrets. No more lies.
    ‘What? What ?’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ I say again.
    ‘Lucy, what the hell—? I…No!’ He tries to take my hand, but I scrunch it up into a fist. ‘Lucy, no! Don’t do this…’ he pleads.
    ‘I’m sorry, James.’
    ‘Stop saying you’re fucking sorry!’ He’s shouting