He’s stood by the gate when I leave. I pull my coat tighter as a biting wind whips through the street. I’m not surprised to find him loitering. I’d resigned myself to him being here.  Damn, I wish my heart didn’t speed and race at the sight of him. He’s got a few people staring, and who can blame them. He’s leaning against the railings, legs crossed at the ankles. His navy coat is wrapped tight, and a beanie covers his extra short hair—he looks like he’s fallen out of the pages of a men’s health magazine. Broad and tall, he’s head and shoulders above most people passing.

“You aren’t getting this, are you?” I question as I get closer, his blues burning through me as he kicks away from the gate.

“Maybe I’m just not listening.” He has the cheek to smirk. It’s like he’s forgotten he broke my heart. Not just broke it, but smashed it to pieces and ground the remaining particles into dust.

“Elijah.” I sigh. I’m tired, a full day of classes has zapped every cell of energy I contain. I roll my shoulders and try to find the words that will make him understand. “Thanks for the bag, and the pen.” His eyes settle on my face, reading me, analysing me in that way only he can. I begin to mumble. “It was kind, but you know how I feel. I can’t let you close again. Not now. Not ever.”

Why does that hurt to say? It’s the right thing. The only way.

“Come on. Dinner.” He cups his hand around my elbow guiding me in the opposite direction to the one I want to go in—home.

“Eli, I said no.” I don’t mean it, but the familiar abbreviation of his name slips from my lips, tasting dark and forbidden, like a rare fruit bursting onto my tongue. His eyes flicker across my face.

“Walk with me, Faith.”

And fuck it. My feet just follow.

“So how was it?” he asks like we are two old friends out for a stroll.

“Fine. I guess.”

“What did you do?” he presses some more.

I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone apart from Al ask me what I’ve learned or done.

“Uh.” I blow a gust of air, puffing out my cheeks which makes him smile. “Uh.”

“First day back, Faith. Come on.” He circles his hand in the air, encouraging me to come up with words—any words. But I can’t. My eyes are skirting across his skin, my body is jangling with unrestrained electricity. It’s taking everything I have to bolt it all down and bury it. What’s wrong with me? This guy stamped on my heart. He stopped me from seeing Al before he died, and he humiliated me in front of a large gathering of people all wearing black tie.

So why am I greedily eating him up with my eyes like he’s the best thing I’ve looked at all day?

“I saw Dylan.” I breathe a sigh of relief when I finally come up with something to say.

“I had a feeling he’d find you.” Elijah lips curve up at the corner.

“What does that mean?”

“He’s got a soft spot for you. Come on, you can see that, right?”

I frown and smack my hand in his direction. It meets solid abs and my fingers tingle with the impact. I can recall all too well what he looks like under his beautiful clothes.

“I doubt it. I’m far too old and scary.”

Elijah chuckles a little. “Yes, you are truly frightening.”

“How’s work going?” Oh, this is why this is a bad idea. I’m starting conversation now. I don’t do conversation.

I stare down at my feet and notice we are walking in time. It’s like the universe is laughing at my attempts at self-preservation.

“It’s, uh, boring.” He chuckles again, the sound lifting above the hum of traffic and the mingled rumble of a million other conversations taking place in London.

“Boring? Is that the way a barrister is supposed to talk?” The blues flash over me again. “Or are you still battling to free the artist inside?” This is low, even for me. Even after what he did.

“Ouch.”

I shrug, keeping my cool, but inside I’m regretting the little dig. But then maybe if I was more of a bitch, he’d leave me alone.

“Now the question of the night is, what do you prefer? Chicken nuggets or a Big Mac?”

“What?” I look at where we’ve stopped. A McDonalds...

“For real? You are taking me to eat at McDonalds for your apology meal?”

He grins and I know he thinks he’s winning. Maybe he is. Just a little bit. “Who says this was my apology meal? Maybe I’m just craving some processed beef.”

I raise an eyebrow and his gaze drops to my mouth. My breathing hitches painfully in my throat. I need to stop that shit.

“Big Mac?” I send him a small smile.

“All the way. Please tell me you aren’t going to make me hurl by dipping fries into your chocolate milkshake?”

My eyes narrow. “Who told you that?”

He smiles but doesn’t give anything away. “I would never reveal my sources.”

Am I really going to go and have a McDonalds value meal with the man who broke my heart?

Did he though? Wasn’t he just protecting me? Trying to protect me the way he’s always trying to protect Tabitha...

I sigh and it’s a deep desperate sound.

“Come on then. I am really hungry.”

He grins and hell it’s beautiful, the most gorgeous thing I’ve seen in weeks. He pulls on the handle of the door and ushers me in with his other hand. “After you, my fair lady.”

And I giggle. Hell do I giggle.

***

“SO, TELL ME.” I DUNK a chip into my shake and then pop it in my mouth while he stares at me in disgust. “Why the focus on you? Why do your mother and godawful grandbaronessy care if you get married? Or what you do even?” I slurp some chocolate milkshake up the straw, keeping my eyes trained on him. “I mean Peter is going to inherit the family title. He’s the one who will take the family forward.”

Elijah’s eyes harden at the mention of his brother. “It’s complicated.”

“How’s it complicated?” I straighten my back and push away my drink. “You always say things are complicated.”

He inclines his head, at least he looks a little sheepish. “Everything is complicated. All the time, Faith. You know that. You’ve met my family.”

His unspoken words hang in the air between us. You know what they made me do to you.

“Talk to me.”

He sighs and plays with the straw in his cup of coke. “Peter isn’t what mother would want as a first-born son.”

“Why not? He’s going to be baron, though?”

Elijah nods. “Yes, there is nothing that can be done about that.”

I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

He smiles, but it’s a little tight. “And I don’t want to talk about my brother when I’ve finally got you to sit down with me.”

“I sat down with you the other night,” I retort.

He sniggers and shakes his head. “Without being in the confines of a moving vehicle.”

I flicker a smile. “Well if you’re going to trap me in a car, the MG is a good choice to make.”

“I was thinking of getting rid of it.”

“What? Why?”

He sucks in his straw to delay his answer. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s time to stop hanging on to sentimental history.” The car had been his grandfather’s.

“That car is beautiful.”

His eyes level on my face, kicking up my heart rate as the delphinium blues take in every inch of the story my face is telling.  “I’ve lost more precious things.”

My mouth dries. Please don’t say things like that. I’ve believed him before—the night at Bowsley when he gave me the diamond and told me he loved me. Then he broke me.

“So, does your mother know you aren’t getting married?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t elaborate, so I raise an eyebrow to show I’m waiting for more. “I’m not welcome at Bowsley right now.”

I sigh with frustration. “I’m sorry we ever met. Everything is a mess. If you hadn’t met me you’d never be in this situation with your family, and...”

I pause.

He fills the gap. “And you wouldn’t be heartbroken.” We stare at one another, silent.  “Have you got classes tomorrow?” he asks, changing the subject and taking me by surprise.

“No idea. Remember I didn’t know I was going to uni until today?”

He smirks. “It was the right choice, wasn’t it?”

I mull over the day’s events. “No. Wanker Gerard made me teach the class.”

Elijah chuckles softly and it sounds like magical bells. Magical bells? Shoot me.

I dunk another cold fry into the even colder shake. “You know you should try it instead of judging,” I say when I see his face crease with a grimace. “You see, I’d never be posh enough for the Faircloughs. It’s as well our fling is over.”

His hand grabs mine with lightning speed and he pops the chip into his mouth, his lips grazing the tips of my fingers. An almost spontaneous molten river of lava swirls around my insides. He chews thoughtfully before gallantly swallowing the potato and ice cream concoction. “Not bad.”

“Such a liar.” I shake my head and smile. I can sense myself softening towards him, it’s running through my veins, tugging me closer.

“It was never just a fling.” His gaze is fierce as he holds my stare. “So tomorrow? Your lectures?”

I reach down and pull the disintegrated timetable out of my pocket, smoothing it across the table. “Ooh it’s a lie in, followed by.” I peer closer at the small text. “Glass work.” I lift my gaze to meet his. “Is this for real? I’ve done glass work before.”

“Well then, you can practice what you can do for Channel 4’s Fart Off.”

“Angela told you I said that?”

He grins and it’s electric. “Yep. I know everything.” For a moment his smile falters and sobers. He doesn’t know everything. He doesn’t know how broken I was in Brighton, the places it took me to.

I block the thought. I haven’t done anything wrong.

Tell that to my heart though.

“Are you at work tomorrow?” I don’t know why I’m asking—I shouldn’t be interested. But I am.

“Yes.” He doesn’t look overly excited, but I don’t ask anything more. About that...

“When are you going to tell your mother about Tabitha... can I have some warning so I can leave the country before the nuclear bomb goes off?”

A smile ghosts across his lips but he shrugs. “It’s up to her.”

“So that will be never knowing Tabitha. Do you think Philip is going to be okay? He’s been through a lot.”

Elijah studies me for a long hard moment. “You know for a woman who says she’s always liked to be by herself, cut off from intimacy, you certainly do care a lot about other people.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t until you made me look after all those kids.”

He tilts his head to the side. “I think it was before that.”

“Whatever.” I cross my hands across my chest.

“Have you finished your disgusting dinner? I’ll walk you home.” He stands and starts to collect the wrappers and cups onto the plastic tray.

“Hey, you bought me here.”

“Next time I’ll take you to The Ritz.” He winks.

“There won’t be a next time.”

“We’ll see.”

With nothing to say to that comment, I stand and shrug on my coat and he waits for me to shift my way out from my side of the table.

“I can get a cab,” I say when we are outside and darkness is beginning to fall.

“I’ll walk you.”

We fall into step alongside one another. Every so often his arm brushes mine but he pulls away like he’s consciously giving me space.

“Have you ever seen the pelicans at St James’ Park?” he asks, breaking the silence that’s settled between us.

“Yeah.” They were one of the first things I sought out when I moved to London. Pelicans in London. I couldn’t believe it until I’d seen it. “They are amazing.” I sense his gaze watching me intently. “What are you looking at?”

“You,” he says like I’m stupid for even questioning it. “Where are you going to work now you don’t have a studio space?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe I can convince Gerard to give me one again?” I don’t even know why I say it. I guess I want to see his reactions, as childish as that may be.

His face tightens into a hard mask and my stomach drops at the intensity of it. “Is that so?”

I bash my hand into his stomach. “No. That’s not so.” I chuckle loudly and before I even know what he’s doing or can pull away, he’s grasped my hand and entwined our fingers together.

This is all so wrong. We aren’t together. We can’t be walking along pretending that what’s happened hasn’t happened. If we’d left Bowsley the night he’d told me he loved me, I would have held his hand forever. But we didn’t, and now we won’t.

“Elijah.” I turn slightly to make eye contact, but the look I find on his face steals my words. He’s a man broken and in pieces. Burning and drowning all at once. Shadows and light, pain and joy. Night and day. Two men at war with one another.

I don’t say a word and we walk in silence holding hands.

Outside the apartment my feet slow. “Tell me something,” I eventually say, breaking the fragile web of quiet spun moments that have weaved between us in a fragile glass of silence.

“Yes?” Under the street light his face is illuminated as though from heaven above. Golden and shadowed, his jaw flexes as he clenches his teeth. I want to run my hand along his cheek, but I won’t.

“What would your mother say if she knew you were here?”

He shrugs. “I’m past caring.”

“But I’d never be accepted, would I? I’d always be on the outside; the secret.”

His eyes burn with chagrin, illuminated from above until their colour has deepened to the depths of midnight.

“Good night, Elijah.” I go to turn but he holds me back, his fingers still tangled with mine.

His free hand cups my cheek, his thumb caressing the curve of my cheekbone. “You are the only thing I want, Faith. Since we met you’ve been under my skin, seeping into my soul. I did wrong by you, but only because I was protecting you from all the worst the Faircloughs have to offer.”

“You’re a Fairclough.”

He shakes his head, his face moving nearer until his nose is on the point of brushing mine. “Only in name. Not in any way that matters.”

“Eli—”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

My heart flutters, my pulse racing. No. This isn’t what I do. There are no second chances.

But this is what Elijah does. He breaks every rule without consequence. Even those of his family.

When his lips graze across mine, I catch my breath, pulling it deep into my lungs as though it can keep me afloat like a lifebuoy. It’s tender and sweet, just the lightest of flutters. I sigh, exhaling into his mouth, my body relaxing just a degree. One of his hands loops into my hair, tilting my face as he sweeps his tongue along my lower lip seeking entry, and I give it to him. Opening myself up as his thumb runs along the edge of my jaw. We are a tangle of sighs and tongues until he smiles against my mouth. His eyes are closed, his forehead pressed against mine. He’s all I can taste, all I can smell.

“Go out with me tomorrow. Someplace better than McDonalds.”

I should be running. Slamming doors, screaming no.

Instead, I stare into his eyes as our chests press together with each rise and fall of our breath. “Okay.” Curse myself to the depths of hell. “Not The Ritz, though.”

He grins and my heart squeezes painfully. “Not The Ritz.”

“Bye, Elijah.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven thirty.”

“Wait, I need to check my—”

“Seven thirty.” He backs away, still watching me as he walks down the pavement.

I turn and let myself into the outer door. This is bad.

It’s more than bad.

It’s hopeless, but I can’t stop it happening for the simple fact my heart doesn’t want me to.

Elijah may have broken it, but my heart wants him to be the one to put it back together again.

I just don’t know if he can.